There are his tracks distinctly." Basil dismounted, giving Lucien his rein.

He knelt upon the grass, and examined the hoof-prints, one after the other, with extreme care.
"So!" he muttered, as he rose again to his feet, "I shall know _you_ among a thousand." "Make yourself ready for a hard ride," he continued, addressing Lucien.
"The dog, no doubt, will lead us in a gallop.

Marengo!" The hound came running up to where the young hunter was stooping over the trail.

The latter held a red object in his arms.

It was Francois' blanket, which he had loosed from his horse's flank, and flung away when starting on the chase.