"What is that?"

"I was riding one of them when it took fright at the report of a gun
that was fired close to me, and ran away; it made for the bank of the
Dordogne and plunged in."

"With you?"

"No; luckily I had time to slip off, or I should have been drowned with
him."

"Ah! then the poor beast was drowned?"

"Pardioux! you know the Dordogne--half a league across."

"And then?"

"Then I resolved not to return home, but to go away as far as possible
from my father's anger."

"But your hat?"

"Diable! my hat had fallen."

"Like you."

"I did not fall; I slipped off."

"But your hat?"