blood. Look! there is M. Charpillon running after his hare.'
'You know that I have just put some pellets into your Pritchard?' Charpillon called out as soon as he saw me.
'You did quite right.'
'He carried off my hare.'
'There! You see,' said Michel, 'it is impossible to cure him.'
'But when he carried away your hare, he must have had it in his mouth? '
'Of course. Where else would he have it?'
'But how could he howl with a hare in his mouth?'
'He put it down to howl, then he took it up again and made off.'
'There's deceit for you, gentlemen!' exclaimed Michel.
Pritchard succeeded in bringing the hare to me, but when he reached me he had to lie down.
'I say,' said Charpillon, 'I hope I haven't hurt him more than I intended—it was a long shot.' And forgetting his hare, Charpillon knelt down to examine Pritchard's wound. It was a serious one; Pritchard had received five or six pellets about the region of his tail, and was bleeding profusely.
'Oh, poor beast!' cried Charpillon. 'I wouldn't have fired that shot for all the hares in creation if I had known.'
'Bah!' said Michel; 'he won't die of it.' And, in fact, Pritchard, after spending three weeks with the vet. at St.-Germains, returned to Monte Cristo perfectly cured, and with his tail in the air once more.
IX
Soon after the disastrous event which I have just related the revolution of 1848 occurred in France, in which King Louis Philippe was dethroned and a republic
