
would rather look at a kite on the wing than a pheasant on the board, are of kin
to the fool, and he should succeed to the stools, as a part of their movable
estate.«
    »That is but a stale jest, my friend Tiel,« said the Duke; »but, fools or
wise men, here come the defaulters.«
    As he spoke, Comines and D'Hymbercourt entered the room, and, after having
made their reverence to the two Princes, assumed in silence the seats which were
left vacant for them.
    »What ho! sirs,« exclaimed the Duke, addressing them, »your sport has been
either very good or very bad, to lead you so far and so late. Sir Philip des
Comines, you are dejected - hath D'Hymbercourt won so heavy a wager on you? -
You are a philosopher, and should not grieve at bad fortune. - By Saint George!
D'Hymbercourt looks as sad as thou dost. - How now, sirs? Have you found no
game? or have you lost your falcons? or has a witch crossed your way? or has the
Wild Huntsman53 met you in the forest? By my honour, you seem as if you were
come to a funeral, not a festival.«
    While the Duke spoke, the eyes of the company were all directed towards
D'Hymbercourt and Des Comines; and the embarrassment and dejection of their
countenances, neither being of that class of persons to whom such expression of
anxious melancholy was natural, became so remarkable, that the mirth and
laughter of the company, which the rapid circulation of goblets of excellent
wine had raised to a considerable height, were gradually hushed; and, without
being able to assign any reason for such a change in their spirits, men spoke in
whispers to each other, as on the eve of expecting some strange and important
tidings.
    »What means this silence, Messires?« said the Duke, elevating his voice,
which was naturally harsh. »If you bring these strange looks, and this stranger
silence, into festivity, we shall wish you had abode in the marshes seeking for
herons, or rather for woodcocks and howlets.«
    »My gracious Lord,« said Des Comines, »as we were about to return hither
from the forest, we met the Count of Crèvecoeur.«
    »How!« said the Duke; »already returned from Brabant? - but he found all
well there, doubtless?«
    »The Count himself will presently give your Grace an account of his news,«
said D
