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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Carlovingian Coins, by Eugène Sue
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Carlovingian Coins
+ Or The Daughters of Charlemagne. A Tale of the Ninth Century
+
+Author: Eugène Sue
+
+Translator: Daniel De Leon
+
+Release Date: June 29, 2010 [EBook #33021]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CARLOVINGIAN COINS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was
+produced from scanned images of public domain material
+from the Google Print project.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE CARLOVINGIAN COINS
+
+THE FULL SERIES OF
+
+The Mysteries of the People
+
+OR
+
+History of a Proletarian Family Across the Ages
+
+By EUGENE SUE
+
+_Consisting of the Following Works_:
+
+THE GOLD SICKLE; or, _Hena the Virgin of the Isle of Sen_.
+
+THE BRASS BELL; or, _The Chariot of Death_.
+
+THE IRON COLLAR; or, _Faustine and Syomara_.
+
+THE SILVER CROSS; or, _The Carpenter of Nazareth_.
+
+THE BASQUE'S LARK; or, _Victoria, the Mother of the Camps_.
+
+THE PONIARD'S HILT; or, _Karadeucq and Ronan_.
+
+THE BRANDING NEEDLE; or, _The Monastery of Charolles_.
+
+THE ABBATIAL CROSIER; or, _Bonaik and Septimine_.
+
+THE CARLOVINGIAN COINS; or, _The Daughters of Charlemagne_.
+
+THE IRON ARROW-HEAD; or, _The Buckler Maiden_.
+
+THE INFANT'S SKULL; or, _The End of the World_.
+
+THE PILGRIM'S SHELL; or, _Fergan the Quarryman_.
+
+THE IRON PINCERS; or, _Mylio and Karvel_.
+
+THE IRON TREVET; or, _Jocelyn the Champion_.
+
+THE EXECUTIONER'S KNIFE; or, _Joan of Arc_.
+
+THE POCKET BIBLE; or, _Christian the Printer_.
+
+THE BLACKSMITH'S HAMMER; or, _The Peasant Code_.
+
+THE SWORD OF HONOR; or, _The Foundation of the French Republic_.
+
+THE GALLEY SLAVE'S RING; or, _The Family Lebrenn_.
+
+Published Uniform With This Volume By
+
+THE NEW YORK LABOR NEWS CO.
+
+28 CITY HALL PLACE NEW YORK CITY
+
+
+
+
+THE CARLOVINGIAN COINS
+
+OR
+
+THE DAUGHTERS OF CHARLEMAGNE
+
+A Tale of the Ninth Century
+
+By EUGENE SUE
+
+TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL FRENCH BY
+
+DANIEL DE LEON
+
+NEW YORK LABOR NEWS COMPANY. 1908
+
+Copyright 1908, by the
+
+NEW YORK LABOR NEWS CO.
+
+
+
+
+INDEX
+
+
+TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. v
+
+PART I--AIX-LA-CHAPELLE.
+
+CHAPTER.
+
+I. AMAEL AND VORTIGERN. 3
+
+II. THE COURTYARD OF THE PALACE. 18
+
+III. IN THE GALLERIES OF THE PALACE. 24
+
+IV. CHARLEMAGNE. 29
+
+V. THE PALATINE SCHOOL. 40
+
+VI. THE BISHOP OF LIMBURG. 44
+
+VII. TO THE HUNT. 54
+
+VIII. THE FOREST OF OPPENHEIM. 58
+
+IX. AT THE MORT. 71
+
+X. EMPEROR AND HOSTAGE. 77
+
+XI. FRANK AND BRETON. 88
+
+
+PART II--THE CONQUEST OF BRITTANY.
+
+I. IN THE BLACK MOUNTAINS. 107
+
+II. THE BRETON CHIEF. 112
+
+III. ABBOT AND BRETON. 120
+
+IV. THE DEFILE OF GLEN-CLAN. 132
+
+V. THE MARSH OF PEULVEN. 139
+
+VI. THE FOREST OF CARDIK. 146
+
+VII. THE MOOR OF KENNOR. 151
+
+VIII. THE VALLEY OF LOKFERN. 156
+
+EPILOGUE. 159
+
+
+
+
+TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE
+
+
+The Age of Charlemagne is the watershed of the history of the present
+era. The rough barbarian flood that poured over Western Europe reaches
+in that age a turning point of which Charlemagne is eminently the
+incarnation. The primitive physical features of the barbarian begin to
+be blunted, or toned down by a new force that has lain latent in him,
+but that only then begins to step into activity--the spiritual, the
+intellectual powers. The Age of Charlemagne is the age of the first
+conflict between the intellectual and the brute in the principal
+branches of the races that occupied Europe. The conflict raged on a
+national scale, and it raged in each particular individual. The colossal
+stature, physical and mental, of Charlemagne himself typifies the epoch.
+Brute instincts of the most primitive and savage, intellectual
+aspirations of the loftiest are intermingled, each contends for
+supremacy--and alternately wins it, in the monarch, in his court and in
+his people.
+
+_The Carlovingian Coins; or, The Daughters of Charlemagne_ is the ninth
+of the brilliant series of historical novels written by Eugene Sue under
+the title, _The Mysteries of the People; or, History of a Proletarian
+Family Across the Ages_. The age and its people are portrayed in a
+charming and chaste narrative, that is fittingly and artistically
+brought to a close by a veritable epopee--the Frankish conquest of
+Brittany, and, as fittingly, serves to introduce the next epopee--the
+Northman's invasion of Gaul--dealt with in the following story, _The
+Iron Arrow Head; or, The Buckler Maiden_.
+
+DANIEL DE LEON.
+
+New York, May, 1905.
+
+
+
+
+PART I.
+
+AIX-LA-CHAPELLE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+AMAEL AND VORTIGERN.
+
+
+Towards the commencement of the month of November of the year 811, a
+numerous cavalcade was one afternoon wending its way to the city of
+Aix-la-Chapelle, the capital of the Empire of Charles the Great--an
+Empire that had been so rapidly increased by rapidly succeeding
+conquests over Germany, Saxony, Bavaria, Bohemia, Hungary, Italy and
+Spain, that Gaul, as formerly during the days of the Roman Emperors, was
+again but a province among the vast domains. The ambitious designs of
+Charles Martel had been realized. Childeric, the last scion of the
+Merovingian dynasty, had been got rid of. Martel's descendants took his
+seat, and now the Hammerer's grandson wielded the sceptre of Clovis over
+an immensely wider territory.
+
+Eight or ten cavalry soldiers rode in advance of the cavalcade. A little
+apart from the smaller escort, four cavaliers ambled leisurely. Two of
+them wore brilliant armor after the German fashion. One of these was
+accompanied by a venerable old man of a martial and open countenance.
+His long beard, snow white as his hair that was half hidden under a fur
+cap, fell over his chest. He wore a Gallic blouse of grey wool, held
+around his waist by a belt, from which hung a long sword with an iron
+hilt. His ample hose of rough white fabric reached slightly below his
+knees and left exposed his tightly laced leather leggings, that ended in
+his boots whose heels were armed with spurs. The old man was Amael, who
+under the assumed Frankish name of Berthoald had, eighty years before,
+saved the life of Charles Martel at the battle of Poitiers against the
+Arabs, had declined the post offered him by Charles, as jailer of the
+last descendant of Clovis, and, finally, smitten by conscience, had
+renounced wealth and dignity under the Frankish enslavers of Gaul, and
+returned to his people and country of Brittany, or Armorica, as the
+Romans named it. Amael now touched his hundredth year. His great age and
+his somewhat portly stature notwithstanding, he still looked full of
+vigor. He handled with dexterity the black horse that he rode and whose
+spirit seemed no wise abated by the long road it had traveled. From time
+to time, Amael turned round upon his saddle in order to cast a look of
+paternal solicitude upon his grandson Vortigern, a lad of hardly
+eighteen years, who was accompanied by the other of the two Frankish
+warriors. The face of Vortigern, of exceptional beauty for a man, was
+framed in long chestnut ringlets, that, escaping from his scarlet coif,
+tumbled down below a chin that was as dainty as a woman's. His large
+blue eyes, fringed with lashes black as his bold arched eyebrows, had an
+air at once ingenuous and resolute. His red lips, shaded by the down of
+adolescence, revealed at every smile two rows of teeth white as enamel.
+A slightly aquiline nose, a fresh and pure complexion somewhat tanned by
+the sun, completed the harmonious make-up of the youth's charming
+visage. His clothes, made after the fashion of his grandfather's,
+differed from them only in a touch of elegance that bespoke a mother's
+hand, tenderly proud of her son's comely appearance. Accordingly, the
+blue blouse of the lad was ornamented around the neck, over the
+shoulders and at the extremities of the sleeves with embroideries of
+white wool, while a calfskin belt, from which hung a sword with
+polished hilt, encircled his supple waist. His linen hose half hid his
+deerskin leggings, that were tightly laced to his nervy limbs and
+rejoined his boots, made of tanned skin and equipped with large copper
+spurs that glistened like gold. Although his right arm was held in a
+scarf of some black material, Vortigern handled his horse with his left
+hand with as much ease as skill. For traveling companion he had a young
+warrior of agreeable mien, bold and mercurial, alert and frolicsome. The
+mobility of his face recalled in nothing the stolidity of the German.
+His name was Octave. Roman by birth, in appearance and character, his
+inexhaustible Southern wit often succeeded in unwrinkling the brow of
+his young companion. The latter, however, would soon again relapse into
+a sort of silent and somber revery. Thus for some time absorbed in
+sadness, he walked his horse slowly, when Octave broke in gaily in a
+tone of friendly reproach:
+
+"By Bacchus! You still are preoccupied and silent."
+
+"I am thinking of my mother," answered the youth, smothering a sigh. "I
+am thinking of my mother, of my sister and of my country."
+
+"Come now; you should, on the contrary, chase away, such saddening
+thoughts. To the devil with sadness. Long live joy."
+
+"Octave, gayness ill beseems a prisoner. I cannot share your
+light-heartedness."
+
+"You are no prisoner, only a hostage. No bond binds you but your own
+word; prisoners, on the contrary, are led firmly pinioned to the slave
+market. Your grandfather and yourself ride freely, with us for your
+companions, and we are escorting you, not to a slave market, but to the
+palace of the Emperor Charles the Great, the mightiest monarch of the
+whole world. Finally, prisoners are disarmed; your grandfather as well
+as yourself carry your swords."
+
+"Of what use are our swords now to us?" replied Vortigern with painful
+bitterness. "Brittany is vanquished."
+
+"Such are the chances of war. You bravely did your duty as a soldier.
+You fought like a demon at the side of your grandfather. He was not
+wounded, and you only received a lance-thrust. By Mars, the valiant god
+of war, your blows were so heavy in the melee that you should have been
+hacked to pieces."
+
+"We would not then have survived the disgrace of Armorica."
+
+"There is no disgrace in being overcome when one has defended himself
+bravely--above all when the forces that one resisted and decimated, were
+the veteran bands of the great Charles."
+
+"Not one of your Emperor's soldiers should have escaped."
+
+"Not one?" merrily rejoined the young Roman. "What, not even myself? Not
+even I, who take such pains to be a pleasant traveling companion, and
+who tax my eloquence to entertain you? Verily, you are not at all
+grateful!"
+
+"Octave, I do not hate you personally; I hate your race; they have,
+without provocation, carried war and desolation into my country."
+
+"First of all, my young friend, I am not of the Frankish race. I am a
+Roman. Gladly do I relinquish to you those gross Germans, who are as
+savage as the bears of their forests. But, let it be said among
+ourselves, this war against Brittany was not without reason. Did not you
+Bretons, possessed of the very devil as you are, attack last year and
+exterminate the Frankish garrison posted at Vannes?"
+
+"And by what right did Charles cause our frontiers to be invaded by his
+troops twenty-five years ago? His whim stood him instead of right."
+
+The conversation between Vortigern and Octave was interrupted by the
+voice of Amael, who, turning in his saddle, called his grandson to him.
+The latter, anxious to hasten to his grandfather, and also yielding to
+an impulse of anger that the discussion with the young Roman had
+provoked, brusquely clapped his spurs to the flanks of his charger. The
+animal, thus suddenly urged, leaped forward so violently that in two or
+three bounds it would have left Amael behind, had not Vortigern,
+restraining his mount with a firm hand, made the animal rear on its
+haunches. The youth then resumed his walk abreast of his grandfather and
+the other Frankish warrior, who, turning to the old man, remarked:
+
+"I do not marvel at the superiority of your Breton cavalry, when a lad
+of the age of your grandson, and despite the wound that must smart him,
+can handle his horse in such a manner. You yourself, for a centenarian,
+are as firm in your saddle as the lad himself. Horns of the devil!"
+
+"The lad was barely five years old when his father and I used to place
+him on the back of the colts raised on our meadows," answered the old
+man. The recollection of those peaceful happy days now ended, cast a
+shadow of sorrow upon Amael's face. He remained silent for a moment.
+Thereupon, addressing Vortigern, he said:
+
+"I called you to inquire whether your wound had ceased smarting."
+
+"Grandfather, I hardly feel it any longer. If you allow me, I would free
+my arm of the embarrassing scarf."
+
+"No; your wound might open again. No imprudence. Remember your mother,
+and also your sister and her husband, both of whom love you like a
+brother."
+
+"Alas! Will I never see that mother, that sister, that brother whom I
+love so dearly?"
+
+"Patience!" answered Amael in an undertone, so as not to be heard by the
+Frankish warrior at his side. "You may see Brittany again a good deal
+sooner than you expect--prudence and patience!"
+
+"Truly?" inquired the youth impetuously. "Oh, grandfather, what
+happiness!"
+
+The old man made a sign to Vortigern to control himself, and then
+proceeded aloud: "I am always afraid lest the fatigue of traveling
+inflame your wound anew. Fortunately, we must be approaching the end of
+our journey. Not so, Hildebrad?" he added, turning to the warrior.
+
+"Before sunset we shall be at Aix-la-Chapelle," answered the Frank. "But
+for the hill that we are about to ascend, you could see the city at a
+distance."
+
+"Return to your companion, my child," said Amael; "above all, place your
+arm back in its scarf, and be careful how you manage your horse. A
+too-sudden lurch might re-open the wound that is barely closed."
+
+The young man obeyed and gently walked his horse back to Octave. Thanks
+to the mobility of the impressions of youth, Vortigern felt appeased and
+comforted by the words of his grandfather that had made him look forward
+to a speedy return to his family and country. The soothing thought was
+so visibly reflected in his candid features that Octave met him with the
+merry remark:
+
+"What a magician that grandfather of yours must be! You rode off
+preoccupied and fretful, angrily burying your spurs into the flanks of
+your horse, who, poor animal, had done nothing to excite your wrath.
+Now, behold! You return as placid as a bishop astride of his mule."
+
+"The magic of my grandfather has chased away my sadness. You speak
+truly, Octave."
+
+"So much the better. I shall now be free, without fear of reviving your
+chagrin, to give a loose to the increasing joy that I feel at every
+step."
+
+"Why does your joy increase at every step, my dear companion?"
+
+"Because even the dullest horse becomes livelier and more spirited in
+the measure that he approaches the house where he knows that he will
+find provender."
+
+"Octave, I did not know you for such a glutton!"
+
+"In that case, my looks are deceptive, because a glutton, that am
+I--terribly gluttonous of those delicate dainties that are found only at
+court, and that constitute my provender."
+
+"What!" exclaimed Vortigern ingenuously. "Is that great Emperor, whose
+name fills the world, surrounded by a court where nothing is thought of
+but dainties and gluttony?"
+
+"Why, of course," answered Octave gravely and hardly able to refrain
+from laughing outright at the innocence of the young Breton. "Why, of
+course. And what is more, more so than any of the counts, of the dukes,
+of the men of learning, and of the bishops at court, does the Emperor
+himself lust after the dainties that I have in mind. He always keeps a
+room contiguous to his own full of them. Because in the stillness of the
+night--"
+
+"He rises to eat cakes and, perhaps, even sweetmeats!" exclaimed the lad
+with disdain, while Octave, unable longer to contain himself, was
+laughing in his face. "I can think of nothing more unbecoming than
+guzzling on the part of one who governs empires!"
+
+"What's to be done, Vortigern? Great princes must be pardoned for some
+pecadillos. Moreover, with them it is a family failing--the daughters of
+the Emperor--"
+
+"His daughters also are given to this ugly passion for gormandizing?"
+
+"Alas! They are no less gluttonous than their father. They have six or
+seven dainties of their own--most appetizing and most appetized."
+
+"Oh, fie!" cried Vortigern. "Fie. Have they perhaps, also next to their
+bed-chambers, whole rooms stocked with dainties?"
+
+"Calm your legitimate indignation, my boiling-over friend. Young girls
+can not allow themselves quite so much comfort. That's good enough for
+the Emperor Charles, who is no longer nimble on his legs. He is getting
+along in years. He has the gout in his left foot, and his girth is
+enormous."
+
+"That is not to be wondered at. Bound is the stomach to protrude with
+such a gourmand!"
+
+"You will understand that being so heavy on his feet, this mighty
+Emperor is not able, like his daughters, to snatch at a stray dainty on
+the wing, like birdies in an orchard, who nibble lovingly here at a red
+cherry, there at a blushing apple, yonder at a bunch of gilded grapes.
+No, no; with his august paunch and his gouty foot, the august Charles
+would be wholly unable to snap the dainties on the wing. The attention
+due to his empire would lose too much. Hence the Emperor keeps near at
+hand, within easy reach, a room full of dainties, where, at night, he
+finds his provender--"
+
+"Octave!" exclaimed Vortigern, interrupting the young Roman with a
+haughty mien. "I do not wish to be trifled with. At first, I took your
+words seriously. The laughter that you are hardly able to repress, and
+that despite yourself breaks out at frequent intervals, shows me that
+you are trifling with me."
+
+"Come, my brave lad, do not wax angry. I am not bantering. Only that,
+out of respect for the candor of your age, I have used a figure of
+speech to tell the truth. In short, the dainty that I, Charles, his
+daughters, and, by Venus! everybody at court lusts after more or less
+greedily is--love!"
+
+"Love," echoed Vortigern, blushing and for the first time dropping his
+eyes before Octave; but as his uneasiness increased, he proceeded to
+inquire: "But, in order to enjoy love, the daughters of Charles are
+surely married?"
+
+"Oh, innocence of the Golden Age! Oh, Armorican naïveness! Oh, Gallic
+chastity!" cried Octave. But noticing that the young Breton frowned at
+hearing his native land ridiculed, the Roman proceeded: "Far be it from
+me to jest about your brave country. I shall tell you without further
+circumlocution--I shall tell you that Charles' daughters are not
+married; for reasons that he has never cared to explain to anyone, he
+never has wanted them to have a husband."[A]
+
+"Out of pride, no doubt!"
+
+"Oh, oh, on that subject many things are said. The long and short of it
+is that he does not wish to part with them. He adores them, and, except
+he goes to war, he always has them near him during his journeys, along
+with his concubines--or, if you prefer the term, his 'dainties.' The
+word may be less shocking to your prudery. You must know that after
+having successively married and discarded his five wives, Desiderata,
+Hildegarde, Fustrade, Himiltrude and Luitgarde, the Emperor provided
+himself with an assortment of dainties, from which assortment I shall
+mention to you incidentally the juicy Mathalgarde, the sugary
+Gerswinthe, the tart Regina, the toothsome Adalinde--not to mention many
+other saints on this calendar of love. For you must know that the great
+Charles resembles the great Solomon not in wisdom only; he resembles him
+also in his love for _seraglios_, as the Arabs call them. But, by the
+way of the Emperor's daughters. Listen to a little tale. Imma, one of
+these young princesses, was a charming girl. One fine day she became
+smitten with Charles' archchaplain, named Eginhard. An archchaplain
+being, of course, arch-amorous, Imma received Eginhard every night
+secretly in her chamber--to discuss chapel affairs, I surmise. Now,
+then, it so happened that during one winter's night there fell so very
+much snow that the ground was all covered. A little before dawn,
+Eginhard takes his departure from his lady-love; but just as he is about
+to climb down from the window--an ordinary route with lovers--he beholds
+by the light of a superb full moon that the ground is one sheet of white
+snow. To himself he thinks: 'Imma and I are lost! I cannot get out
+without leaving the imprint of my steps in the snow'--"
+
+"And what did he do?" asked Vortigern, more and more interested in the
+story that threw an undefined sense of uneasiness in his heart. "How
+did the two escape from their perilous plight, the poor lovers!"
+
+"Imma, a robustious doxy, a girl both of head and resolution, descends
+by the window, bravely takes the archchaplain on her back, and, without
+tripping under the beloved burden, crosses a wide courtyard that
+separates her quarters from one of the corridors of the palace. Although
+weighted down by an archchaplain, Imma had such small feet that the
+traces left by them could not choose but keep suspicion away from
+Eginhard. Unfortunately, however, as you will discover when you arrive
+at Aix-la-Chapelle, the Emperor is possessed of a demon of curiosity,
+and has had his palace so constructed that, from a kind of terrace,
+contiguous to his own room and which dominates the rest of the
+buildings, he is able to discover as from an observatory, all who enter,
+go out, or cross the open space. Now, then, the Emperor, who frequently
+rises at night, saw, thanks to the brilliant moonlight, his daughter
+crossing the yard with the amorous fardel."
+
+"Charles' anger must have been terrible!"
+
+"Yes, terrible for an instant. Soon, however, no doubt greatly elated at
+having procreated a maid who was able to carry an archchaplain on her
+back, the august Emperor pardoned the guilty couple. After that they
+lived lovingly in peace and joy."
+
+"And yet that archchaplain was a priest? What of the sanctity of the
+clergy!"
+
+"Ho, ho! my young friend. The Emperor's daughters are far from failing
+in esteem for priests. Bertha, another of his daughters, desperately
+esteems Enghilbert, the handsome Abbot of St. Riquier. Fairness,
+nevertheless, compels me to admit that one of Bertha's sisters, named
+Adeltrude, esteemed with no less vehemence Count Lambert, one of the
+most intrepid officers of the imperial army. As to little Rothailde,
+another of the Emperor's daughters, she did not withhold her lively
+esteem from Romuald, who made his name glorious in our wars against
+Bohemia. I shall not speak of the other princesses. It is fully six
+months that I have been away from court. I would be afraid to do them
+injustice. Nevertheless, I am free to say that the Crosier and the Sword
+have generally contended with each other for the amorous tenderness of
+the daughters of Charles. Yet I must except Thetralde, the youngest of
+the set. She is still too much of a novice to esteem any one. She is
+barely fifteen. She is a flower, or rather, the bud of a flower that is
+about to blossom. I never have seen anything more charming. When I last
+departed from the court Thetralde gave promise of eclipsing all her
+sisters and nieces with the sweetness and freshness of her beauty,
+because, and I had forgotten this detail, my dear friend, the daughters
+of Charles' sons are brought up with his own daughters; and are no less
+charming than their aunts. You will see them all. Your admiration will
+have but to choose between Adelaid, Atula, Gonarade, Bertha or
+Theodora."
+
+"What! Do all these young girls inhabit the Emperor's palace?"
+
+"Certainly, without counting their servants, their governesses, their
+chambermaids, their readers, their singers and innumerable other women
+of their retinue. By Venus! My Adonis, there are more petticoats to be
+seen in the imperial palace than cuirasses or priests' gowns. The
+Emperor loves as much to be surrounded by women as by soldiers and
+abbots, without forgetting the learned men, the rhetoricians, the
+dialecticians, the instructors, the peripatetic pedagogues and the
+grammarians. The great Charles, as you must know, is as passionately
+fond of grammar as of love, war, the chase, or choir chants. In his
+grammarian's ardor, the Emperor invents words--"
+
+"What!"
+
+"Just as I am telling you. For instance: How do you call in the Gallic
+tongue the month in which we now are?"
+
+"The month of November."
+
+"So do we Italians, barbarians that we are! But the Emperor has changed
+all that by virtue of his own sovereign and grammatical will. His
+peoples, provided they can obey him without the words strangling them,
+are to say, instead of November, 'Herbismanoth'; instead of October,
+Windumnermanoth.'"
+
+"Octave, you are trying to make merry at my expense."
+
+"Instead of March, 'Lenzhimanoth'; instead of May--"
+
+"Enough! enough! for pity's sake!" cried Vortigern. "Those barbarous
+names make me shiver. What! can there be throats in existence able to
+articulate such sounds?"
+
+"My young friend, Frankish throats are capable of everything. I warn
+you, prepare your ears for the most uncouth concert of raucous,
+guttural, savage words that you ever heard, unless you have ever heard
+frogs croaking, tom-cats squalling, bulls bellowing, asses braying,
+stags belling and wolves howling--all at once! Excepting the Emperor
+himself and his family, who can somewhat handle the Roman and the Gallic
+languages, the only two languages, in short, that are human, you will
+hear nothing spoken but Frankish at that German court where everything
+is German, that is to say, barbarous; the language, the customs, the
+manners, the meals, the dress. In short, Aix-la-Chapelle is no longer
+in Gaul. It now lies in Germany absolutely."
+
+"And yet Charles reigns over Gaul!--is not that enough of a disgrace for
+my country? The Emperor who governs us by no right other than conquest,
+is surrounded with a Frankish court, and with officers and generals of
+the same stock, who do not deign even to speak our tongue. Shame and
+disgrace to us!"
+
+"There you are at it again, plunging anew into sadness. Vortigern! By
+Bacchus! Why do you not imitate my philosophy of indifference? Does,
+perchance, my race not descend from that haughty Roman stock that made
+the world to tremble only a few centuries ago? Have I not seen the
+throne of the Caesars occupied by hypocritical, ambitious, greedy and
+debauched Popes, with their black-gowned and tonsured militia? Have not
+the descendants of our haughty Roman Emperors gone in their imbecile
+idleness to vegetate in Constantinople, where they still indulge the
+dreams of Universal Empire? Have not the Catholic priests chased from
+their Olympus the charmful deities of our fathers? Have they not torn
+down, mutilated and ravished the temples, statues, altars--the
+master-works of the divine art of Rome and Greece? Go to, Vortigern, and
+follow my example! Instead of fretting over a ship-wrecked past, let's
+drink and forget! Let our fair mistresses be our Saints, and their
+couches our altars! Let our Eucharist be a flower-decked cup, and for
+liturgy, let's sing the amorous couplets of Tibullus, of Ovid, and of
+Horace. Yes, indeed, and take my advice: let's drink, love and enjoy
+life! That's truly to live! You will never again come across such an
+opportunity. The gods of joy are sending you to the Emperor's court."
+
+"What do you mean?" queried Vortigern almost mechanically, and feeling
+his inexperienced sense, though not perverted, yet dazzled by the facile
+and sensuous philosophy of Octave. "What would you have one become in
+the midst of that court so strange to me, who have been brought up in
+our rustic Brittany?"
+
+"Child that you are! A swarm of beautiful eyes will be focused upon
+you!"
+
+"Octave, you are mocking again. Am I to be taken notice of? I, a field
+laborer's son? I, a poor Breton prisoner on parole?"
+
+"And do you think your reputation for a bedevilled Breton goes for
+nothing? More than once have I heard told of the furious curiosity with
+which, about twenty-five years ago, the hostages taken to
+Aix-la-Chapelle, at the time of the first war against your country,
+inspired everyone at court. The most charming women wished to behold
+those indomitable Bretons whom only the great Charles had been able to
+vanquish. Their haughty and rude mien, the interest centred in their
+defeat, everything, down to their strange costumes, drew upon them the
+looks and the sympathy of the women, who, in Germany, are ever strongly
+prone to love. The fascinating enthusiasts of then are now become
+mothers and grandfathers. But, happily, they have daughters and
+grand-daughters who are fully able to appreciate you. I can assure you
+that I, who know the court and its ways, had I only your youth, your
+good looks, your wound, your graceful horsemanship and your renown as a
+Breton, would guarantee myself the lover of all those beauties, and that
+within a week."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE COURTYARD OF THE PALACE.
+
+
+The conversation between the young Roman and Vortigern was at this point
+interrupted by Amael, who, turning back to his grandson and extending
+his arm towards the horizon said to him:
+
+"Look yonder, my child; that is the Queen of the cities of the Empire of
+Charles the Great--the city of Aix-la-Chapelle."
+
+Vortigern hastened to join his grandfather, whose eyes he now, perhaps
+for the first time, sought to avoid with not a little embarrassment.
+Octave's words sounded wrong on his ears, even dangerous; and he
+reproached himself for having listened to them with some pleasure.
+Having reached Amael, Vortigern cast his eyes in the direction pointed
+out by the old man, and saw at still a great distance an imposing mass
+of buildings, close to which rose the high steeple of a basilica.
+Presently, he distinguished the roofs and terraces of a cluster of
+houses dimly visible through the evening mist and stretching out along
+the horizon. It was the Emperor's palace and the basilica of
+Aix-la-Chapelle. Vortigern contemplated with curiosity the, to him, new
+panorama, while Hildebrad, who had cantered ahead to make some inquiries
+from a cartman coming from the city, now returned to the Bretons,
+saying:
+
+"The Emperor is hourly expected at the palace. The forerunners have
+announced his approach. He is coming from a journey in the north of
+Gaul. Let's hasten to ride in ahead of him so that we may salute him on
+his arrival."
+
+The riders quickened their horses' steps, and before sunset they were
+entering the outer court of the palace--a vast space surrounded by many
+lodges of variously shaped roofs and architecture, and furnished with
+innumerable windows. Agreeable to a unique plan, with many of these
+structures the ground floor was wholly open and had the appearance of a
+shed whose massive stone pillars supported the masonry of the upper
+tiers of floors. A crowd of subaltern officers, of servants, and slaves
+of the palace, lived and lodged under these sheds, open to the four
+winds of heaven and heated in winter by means of large furnaces that
+were kept lighted night and day. This bizarre architecture was conceived
+by the ingenuity of the Emperor. It enabled him, from his observatory,
+to see with all the greater ease all that happened in these wall-less
+apartments. Several long corridors, profusely ornamented with richly
+sculptured columns and porticos after the fashion of Rome, connected
+with another set of buildings. A square pavilion, raised considerably
+above ground, dominated the system of structures. Octave called
+Vortigern's attention to a sort of balcony located in front of the
+pavilion. It was the Emperor's observatory. Everywhere a general stir
+announced the approaching arrival of Charles. Clerks, soldiers, women,
+officers, rhetoricians, monks and slaves crossed one another in great
+haste, while several bishops, anxious to present the first homages to
+the Emperor, were speeding towards the peristyle of the palace. So
+instantly was the Emperor expected and such was the hurly at the event,
+that when the cavalcade, of which Vortigern and his grandfather were a
+part, entered the court, several people, deceived by the martial
+appearance of the troupe, began to cry: "The Emperor!" "Here is the
+Emperor's escort!" The cry flew from mouth to mouth, and in an instant
+the spacious court was filled with a compact mass of servitors and
+pursuivants, through which the escort of the two Bretons was hardly able
+to break its way in order to reach a place near the principal portico.
+Hildebrad had chosen the spot in order to be among the first to meet
+Charles and to present to him the hostages whom he brought from
+Brittany. The crowd discovered its mistake in acclaiming the Emperor,
+but the false rumor had penetrated the palace and immediately the
+concubines of Charles, his daughters and grand-daughters, their servants
+and attendants, rushed out and grouped themselves on a spacious terrace
+above the portico, near which the two Bretons, together with their
+escort, had taken their stand.
+
+"Raise your eyes, Vortigern," Octave said to his companion. "Look and
+see what a bevy of beauties the Emperor's palace contains."
+
+Blushing, the young Breton glanced towards the terrace and remained
+struck with astonishment at the sight of some twenty-five or thirty
+women, all of whom were either daughters or grand-daughters of Charles,
+together with his concubines. They were clad in the Frankish fashion,
+and presented the most seductive variety of faces, color of hair, shapes
+and beauty imaginable. There were among them brunettes and blondes,
+women of reddish and of auburn hair, some tall, others stout, and yet
+others thin and slender. It was a complete display of Germanic feminine
+types--from the tender maid up to the stately matron of forty years. The
+eyes of Vortigern fell with preference upon a girl of not more than
+fifteen, clad in a tunic of pale green embroidered with silver. Nothing
+sweeter could be imagined than her rosy and fresh face crowned and set
+off by long and thick strands of blonde hair; her delicate neck, white
+as a swan's, seemed to undulate under the weight of her magnificent head
+of hair. Another maid of about twenty years--a pronounced brunette,
+robust, with challenging eyes, black hair, and clad in a tunic of
+orange--leaned on the balustrade, supporting her chin in one hand, close
+to the younger blonde, on whose shoulders she familiarly rested her
+right arm. Each held in her hand a nose-gay of rosemary, whose fragrance
+they inhaled from time to time, all the while conversing in a low voice
+and contemplating the group of riders with increasing curiosity. They
+had learned that the escort was not the Emperor's, but that it brought
+the Breton hostages.
+
+"Give thanks to my friendship, Vortigern," Octave whispered to the lad.
+"I am going to place you in evidence, and to display you at your true
+worth." Saying this, Octave covertly gave Vortigern's horse such a sharp
+touch of his whip under the animal's belly that, had the Breton been
+less of a horseman, he had been thrown by the violence of the bound made
+by his mount. Thus unexpectedly stung, the animal reared, poised himself
+dangerously for a moment and then leaped so high that Vortigern's coif
+grazed the bottom of the terrace where the group of women stood. The
+blonde young girl grew pale with terror, and hiding her face in her
+hands, exclaimed: "Unhappy lad! He is killed! Poor young man!"
+
+Yielding to the impulse of his age as well as to a sense of pride at
+finding himself the object of the attention of the crowd that was
+gathered around him, Vortigern severely chastised his horse, whose leaps
+and bounds threatened to become dangerous. But the lad, preserving his
+presence of mind and drawing upon his skill, displayed so much grace and
+vigor in the struggle, despite his right arm's being held in the scarf,
+that the crowd wildly clapped its hands and cried: "Glory to the
+Breton!" "Honor to the Breton!" Two bouquets of rosemary fell, at that
+moment, at the feet of the horse that, brought at last under control,
+champed his bit and pawed the ground with his hoofs. Vortigern raised
+his head towards the terrace whence the bouquets had just been thrown at
+him, when a formidable din arose from a distance, followed immediately
+by the cry, echoed and re-echoed: "The Emperor!" "The Emperor!"
+
+At the announcement, all the women forthwith left the balcony to descend
+and receive the monarch under the portico of the palace.
+
+While the crowd swayed back and forward, crying: "Long live Charles!"
+"Long live Charles the Great!" the grandson of Amael saw a troop of
+riders approaching at a gallop. They might have been taken for
+equestrian statues of iron. Mounted upon chargers caparisoned in iron,
+their own iron casques hid their faces; cuirassed in iron and gloved in
+iron, they wore leggings of iron, and bucklers of the same metal. The
+last rays of the westering sun shone from the points of their iron
+lances. In short, nothing was heard but the clash of iron. At the head
+of these cavaliers, whom he preceded, and, like them, cased in iron from
+head to foot, rode a man of colossal stature. Hardly arrived before the
+principal portico, he alighted slowly from his horse and ran limping
+towards the group of women who there awaited him, calling out to them,
+as he ran, in a little shrill and squeaky voice that contrasted
+strangely with his enormous build:
+
+"Good-day, little ones. Good-day, dear daughters. Good-day to all of
+you, my darlings." Without giving any heed to the cheers of the crowd
+and to the respectful salutations of the bishops and other dignitaries,
+who hurried to meet him, the Emperor Charles, that giant in iron,
+disappeared within the palace, followed by his feminine cohort.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+IN THE GALLERIES OF THE PALACE.
+
+
+Amael and his grandson were lodged in one of the upper chambers of the
+palace, whither they were conducted by Hildebrad to rest after the
+fatigue of their recent journey. Supper was served to them and they were
+left to retire for the night.
+
+At break of day the next morning, Octave knocked at the door of the two
+Bretons and informed them that the Emperor wished to see them. The Roman
+urged Vortigern to clothe himself at his best. The Breton lad had not
+much to choose from. He had with him only two suits of clothes, the one
+he wore on the journey, another, green of color and embroidered with
+orange wool. This notwithstanding, thanks to the fresh and new clothes,
+in which the colors were harmoniously blended and which enhanced the
+attractiveness of the charming face as well as the gracefulness of his
+supple stature, Vortigern seemed to the critical eyes of Octave worthy
+of making an honorable appearance before the mightiest Emperor in the
+world. The centenarian could not restrain a smile at hearing the praises
+bestowed upon the figure of his grandson by the young Roman, who advised
+him to draw tighter the belt of his sword, claiming that, if one's
+figure is good, it was but right to exhibit it. While giving his
+advices to Vortigern in his wonted good humor, Octave whispered in his
+friend's ear:
+
+"Did you notice yesterday the nose-gays that fell at the feet of your
+horse? Did you notice who the girls were from whom the bouquets came?"
+
+"I think I did," stammered the young Breton in answer, and he blushed to
+the roots of his hair, while despite himself, his thoughts flew to the
+charming young blonde. "It seems to me," he added, "that I saw the two
+bouquets fall."
+
+"Oh, it seems to you, hypocrite! Nevertheless, it was my whip that
+brought down the two bouquets! And do you know what imperial hands it
+was that threw them down in homage to your address and courage?"
+
+"Were the bouquets thrown down by imperial hands?"
+
+"Yes, indeed, seeing that Thetralde, the timid blonde child and
+Hildrude, the tall and bold brunette, are both daughters of Charles. One
+of them was dressed in a green robe of the color of your blouse, the
+other in orange of the color of your embroidery. By Venus! Are you not a
+favored mortal? Two conquests at one clap!"
+
+Engaged at the other end of the chamber, Amael did not overhear the
+words of Octave that were turning Vortigern's face as scarlet as the
+color of his chaperon's cloak. The preparations for the presentation
+being concluded, the two hostages followed their guide to appear before
+the Emperor. After crossing an infinite number of passages and mounting
+and descending an equal number of stairs, in all of which they
+encountered more women than men, the number of women lodged in the
+Imperial Palace being prodigious, the Bretons were led through vast
+halls. To describe the sumptuous magnificence of these galleries would
+be no less impossible than to enumerate the pictures with which their
+halls were ornamented. Artisans, brought from Constantinople, where, at
+the time, the school of Byzantine painting flourished, had covered the
+walls with gigantic designs. In one place the conquests of Cyrus over
+the Persians were displayed; at another, the atrocities of the tyrant
+Phalaris, witnessing the agonies of his victims, who were led to be
+burned alive in a brass caldron red with heat; at still another place,
+the founding of Rome by Romulus and Remus was reproduced; the conquests
+of Alexander and Hannibal, and many other heroic subjects. One of the
+galleries of the palace was consecrated wholly to the battles of Charles
+Martel. He was seen triumphing over Saxons and Arabs, who, chained at
+his feet, implored his clemency. So striking was the resemblance that
+while crossing the hall Amael cried out:
+
+"It is he! Those are his features! That was his bearing! He lives again!
+It is Charles!"
+
+"One would think you recognize an old acquaintance," observed the young
+Roman, smiling. "Are you renewing your acquaintance with Charles
+Martel?"
+
+"Octave," answered the old man melancholically, "I am one hundred years
+old--I fought at the battle of Poitiers against the Arabs."
+
+"Among the troops of Charles Martel?"
+
+"I saved his life," answered Amael, contemplating the gigantic picture;
+and speaking to himself, he proceeded with a sigh: "Oh, how many
+recollections, sweet and sad, do not those days bring back to me! My
+beloved mother, my sweet Septimine!"
+
+Octave regarded the old man with increasing astonishment, but, suddenly
+collecting himself, he grew pensive and hastened his steps, followed by
+the two hostages. Dazzled by the sights before him Vortigern examined
+with the curiosity of his age the riches of all kinds that were heaped
+up all around him. He could not refrain from stopping before two objects
+that attracted his attention above all others. The first was a piece of
+furniture of precious wood enriched with gilt mouldings. Pipes of
+copper, brass and tin, of different thicknesses rose above each other in
+tiers on one side of the wooden structure. "Octave," asked the young
+Breton, "what kind of furniture is this?"
+
+"It is a Greek organ that was recently sent to Charles by the Emperor of
+Constantinople. The instrument is truly marvelous. With the aid of brass
+vessels and of bellows made of ox-hides, which are concealed from view,
+the air enters these tubes, and, when they are played upon, one time you
+think you hear the rumbling of thunder, another time, the gentle notes
+of the lyre or of cymbals. But look yonder, near that large table of
+massive gold where the city of Constantinople is drawn in relief, there
+you see no less ingenious an object. It is a Persian clock, sent to the
+Emperor only four years ago by Abdhallah, the King of Persia." Saying
+this, Octave pointed out to the young Breton and his grandfather, who
+became no less interested than Vortigern himself, a large time-piece of
+gilt bronze. Figures denoting the twelve hours surrounded the dial,
+which was placed in the centre of a miniature palace made of bronze, and
+likewise gilt. Twelve gates built in arcades were seen at the foot of
+the monumental imitation. "When the hour strikes," Octave explained to
+the Bretons, "a certain number of brass balls, equal in number to the
+hour, drop upon a little cymbal. At the same moment, these gates fly
+open, as many of them as the corresponding hour, and out of each a
+cavalier, armed with lance and shield, rides forth. If it strikes one,
+two or three o'clock, one, two or three gates open, the cavaliers ride
+out, salute with their lances, return within, and the gates close upon
+them."
+
+"This is truly a marvelous contrivance!" exclaimed Amael. "And are the
+names of the men known who fashioned these prodigies around us, these
+magnificent paintings, that gold table where a whole city is reproduced
+in relief, this organ, this clock, in short, all these marvels! Surely
+their authors must have been glorified!"
+
+"By Bacchus, Amael, your question is droll," answered Octave smiling.
+"Who cares for the names of the obscure slaves who have produced these
+articles?"
+
+"But the names of Clovis, of Brunhild, of Clotaire, of Charles Martel
+will survive the ages!" murmured the centenarian bitterly to himself,
+while the young Roman remarked to Vortigern:
+
+"Let us hurry; the Emperor is waiting for us. It will take whole days,
+months and years to admire in detail the treasures that this palace is
+full of. It is the favorite resort of the Emperor. And yet, as much as
+his residence at Aix-la-Chapelle, he loves his old castle of Heristal,
+the cradle of his mighty stock of mayors of the palace, where he has
+heaped miracles of art."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+CHARLEMAGNE.
+
+
+Following their guide, the two hostages left the sumptuous and vast
+galleries, and ascended, closely behind Octave, a spiral staircase that
+led to the private apartment of the Emperor, the apartment around which
+wound the balcony that served as observatory to Charles. Two richly
+dressed chamberlains stood in the outer vestibule. "Stay for me here,"
+Octave said to the Bretons; "I shall notify the Emperor that you await
+his pleasure, and learn whether he wishes to receive you at this
+moment."
+
+Despite his race and family hatred for the Frankish Kings or Emperors,
+the conquerors and oppressors of Gaul, Vortigern experienced a thrill of
+emotion at the thought of finding himself face to face with the mighty
+Charles, the sovereign of almost all Europe. This first emotion was
+speedily joined by a second--that mighty Emperor was the father of
+Thetralde, the entrancing maid, who, the evening before, had thrown her
+bouquet to the youth. Vortigern's thoughts never a moment fell upon the
+brunette Hildrude. An instant later Octave reappeared and beckoned to
+Amael and his grandson to step in, while in an undertone he warned them:
+"Crook your knees low before the Emperor; it is the custom."
+
+The centenarian cast a look at Vortigern with a negative sign of the
+head. The youth understood, and the Bretons stepped into the bed-chamber
+of Charles, whom they found in the company of his favorite Eginhard, the
+archchaplain whom Imma had one night bravely carried on her back. A
+servitor of the imperial chamber awaited the orders of his master.
+
+When the two hostages entered the room, the monarch, whose stature,
+though now unarmed, preserved its colossal dimensions, was seated on the
+edge of his couch clad only in a shirt and hose that set off the
+pre-eminence of his paunch. He had just put on one shoe and held the
+other in his hand. His hair was almost white, his eyes were large and
+sparkling, his nose was long, his neck short and thick like a bull's.
+His physiognomy, of an open cast and instinct with joviality, recalled
+the features of his grandfather, Charles Martel. At the sight of the two
+Bretons the Emperor rose from the edge of the couch, and keeping his one
+shoe in his hand, took two steps forward, limping on his left foot. As
+he thus approached Amael he seemed a prey to a concealed emotion
+somewhat mingled with a lively curiosity.
+
+"Old man!" cried out Charles in his shrill voice that contrasted so
+singularly with his giant stature, "Octave tells me you fought under
+Charles Martel, my grandfather, nearly eighty years ago, and that you
+saved his life at the battle of Poitiers."
+
+"It is true," and carrying his hand to his forehead where the traces of
+a deep wound were still visible, the aged Breton added: "I received this
+wound at the battle of Poitiers."
+
+The Emperor sat down again on the edge of his bed, put on the other shoe
+and said to his archchaplain: "Eginhard, you who compiled in your
+chronicle the history and acts of my grandfather, you whose memory is
+ever faithful, do you remember ever to have heard told what the old man
+says?"
+
+Eginhard remained thoughtful for a moment, and then answered slowly: "I
+remember to have read in some parchment scrolls, inscribed by the hand
+of the glorious Charles and now preserved in your august archives, that,
+indeed, at the battle of Poitiers"--but interrupting himself and turning
+to the centenarian he asked: "Your name? How are you called?"
+
+"Amael is my name."
+
+The archchaplain reflected for a moment, and shaking his head observed:
+"While I can not now recall it, that was not the name of the warrior who
+saved the life of Charles Martel at the battle of Poitiers--it was a
+Frankish name, it is not the name which you mentioned."
+
+"That name," rejoined the aged Amael, "was Berthoald."
+
+"Yes!" put in Eginhard quickly. "That is the name--Berthoald. And in a
+few lines written in his own hand, the glorious Charles Martel commended
+the said Berthoald to his children; he wrote that he owed him his life
+and recommended him to their gratitude if he ever should turn to them."
+
+During the exchange of these words between the aged Breton and the
+archchaplain, the Emperor had continued and finished his toilet with the
+aid of his servitor of the chamber. His costume, the old Frankish
+costume to which Charles remained faithful, consisted in the first place
+of a pair of leggings made of thick linen material closely fastened to
+the nether limbs by means of red wool bandelets that wound criss-cross
+from below upwards; next of a tunic of Frisian cloth, sapphire-blue, and
+held together by a silk belt. In the winter and the fall of the year the
+Emperor also wore over his shoulders a heavy and large otter or
+lamb-skin coat. Thus clad, Charles sat down in a large armchair placed
+near a curtain that was meant to conceal one of the doors that opened
+upon the balcony which served him for observatory. At a sign from
+Charles the servitor stepped out of the chamber. Left alone with
+Eginhard, Vortigern, Amael and Octave, Charles said to the elder Breton:
+"Old man, if I understood my chaplain correctly, a Frank named Berthoald
+saved my grandfather's life. How does it happen that the said Berthoald
+and you are the same personage?"
+
+"When fifteen years of age, driven by the spirit of adventure, I ran
+away from my family of the Gallic race, and then located in Burgundy.
+After many untoward events, I joined a band of determined men. I then
+was twenty years of age. I took a Frankish name and claimed to be of
+that race in order to secure the protection of Charles Martel.[B] To the
+end of interesting him all the more in my lot I offered him my own sword
+and the swords of all my men, just a few days before the battle of
+Poitiers. At that battle I saved his life. After that, loaded with his
+favors, I fought under his orders five years longer."
+
+"And what happened then?"
+
+"Then--ashamed of my imposition, and still more ashamed of fighting on
+the side of the Franks, I left Charles Martel to return into Brittany,
+the cradle of my family. There I became a field laborer."
+
+"By the cape of St. Martin, you then turned rebel!" exclaimed the
+Emperor in his squeaky voice, which then assumed the tone of a
+penetrating treble. "I now see the wisdom of those who chose you for an
+hostage, you, the instigator and the soul of the uprisings and even wars
+that broke out in Brittany during the reign of Pepin, my father, and
+even under my own reign, when your devil-possessed countrymen decimated
+my veteran bands!"
+
+"I fought as well as I could in our wars."
+
+"Traitor! Loaded with favors by my grandfather, yet were you not afraid
+to rise in arms against his son and me?"
+
+"I felt remorse for only one thing--and that was to have merited the
+favor of your grandfather. I shall ever reproach myself for having
+fought on his side instead of against him."
+
+"Old man," cried the Emperor, purple with rage, "you have even more
+audacity than years!"
+
+"Charles--let us stop here. You look upon yourself as the sovereign of
+Gaul. We Bretons do not recognize your claims. These claims you hold,
+like all other conquerors, from force. To you might means right--"
+
+"I hold them from God!" again cried the Emperor, this time stamping the
+floor with his foot and breaking in upon Amael. "Yes! I hold my rights
+over Gaul from God, and from my good sword."
+
+"From your sword, from violence, yes, indeed. From God, not at all. God
+does not consecrate theft, whether a purse or an empire be involved.
+Clovis captured Gaul. Your father and grandfather plundered of his crown
+the last scion of that Clovis. Little does that matter to us, Bretons,
+who refuse to obey either the stock of Clovis or that of Charles Martel.
+You dispose over an innumerable army; already have you ravished and
+vanquished Brittany. You may ravage and vanquish her over again--but
+subjugate her, never. And now, Charles, I have spoken. You shall hear
+not another word from me on that subject. I am your prisoner, your
+hostage. Dispose of me."
+
+The Emperor, who more than once was on the point of allowing his
+indignation to break loose, turned to Eginhard and, after a moment of
+silence, said to him in a calm voice: "You, who are engaged in writing
+the history and deeds of Charles, the august Emperor of Gaul, Caesar of
+Germany, Patrician of Rome, Protector of the Suevians, the Bulgarians
+and the Hungarians, I command you to write down that an old man held to
+Charles a language of unheard-of audacity, and that Charles could not
+prevent himself from esteeming the frankness and the courage of the man
+who had thus spoken to him." And suddenly changing his tone, the
+Emperor, whose features, for a moment stern in anger, now assumed an
+expression of joviality shaded with shrewdness, said to Amael: "So,
+then, Breton seigneurs of Armorica, whatever I may do, you want none of
+me at any price for your Emperor. Do you so much as know me?"
+
+"Charles, we know you in Brittany by the unjust wars that your father
+and yourself have waged against us."
+
+"So that, to you, gentlemen of Armorica, Charles is only a man of
+conquest, of violence, and of battle?"
+
+"Yes, you reign only through terror."
+
+"Well, then, follow me. I may perhaps cause you to change your mind,"
+said the Emperor after a moment's reflection. He rose, took his cane and
+put on his cap. His eyes then fell upon Vortigern, whom, standing
+silently at a distance, he had not noticed before. "Who is that young
+and handsome lad?" he asked.
+
+"My grandson."
+
+"Octave," the Emperor remarked, turning to the young Roman, "this is
+rather a young hostage."
+
+"August Prince, this lad was chosen for several reasons. His sister
+married Morvan, a common field laborer, but one of the most intrepid of
+the Breton chieftains. During this last war he commanded the cavalry."
+
+"And why, then, was not that Morvan brought here? That would have been
+an excellent hostage."
+
+"August Prince, in order to bring him we would have first had to catch
+him. Although severely wounded, Morvan, thanks to his heroine of a wife,
+succeeded in making his escape with her. It has been impossible to reach
+them in the inaccessible mountains whither they both fled. For that
+reason two other chiefs and influential men of the tribe were chosen for
+hostages; we left them on the road on account of their wounds, and
+proceeded only with this old man, who was the soul of the last wars, and
+also this youth, who, through his family connections, is related to one
+of the most dangerous chieftains of Armorica. I must admit that in
+taking him, we yielded also to the prayers of his mother. She was very
+anxious that he should accompany his grandfather on this long journey,
+which is very trying to a centenarian."
+
+"And you," resumed the Emperor, addressing Vortigern, whom, during the
+account given by Octave, he had been examining with attention and
+interest, "no doubt also hate inveterately that Charles, the conqueror
+and devastator?"
+
+"The Emperor Charles has white hair; I am only eighteen years old,"
+retorted the young Breton, blushing. "I can not answer."
+
+"Old man," observed Charles, visibly affected by the lad's
+self-respecting yet becoming modesty, "the mother of your grandson must
+be a happy woman. But coming to think of it, my lad, was it not you who
+yesterday evening, shortly before my arrival, came near breaking your
+neck with a fall from your horse?"
+
+"I!" cried Vortigern, blushing with pride; "I, fall from my horse! Who
+dared to say so!"
+
+"Oh! Oh! my lad. You are red up to your ears," the Emperor exclaimed,
+laughing aloud. "But, never mind. Be tranquil. I do not mean to wound
+your pride of horsemanship. Far from it. Before I saw you to-day my ears
+have rung with the interminable praises of your gracefulness and daring
+on horseback. My dear daughters, especially little Thetralde and the
+tall Hildrude, told me at least ten times at supper that they had seen a
+savage young Breton, although wounded in one arm, manage his horse like
+the most skilful of my equerries."
+
+"If I deserve any praise, it must be addressed to my grandfather,"
+modestly answered Vortigern. "It was he who taught me to ride on
+horseback."
+
+"I like that answer, my lad. It shows your modesty and a proper respect
+for your elders. Are you lettered? Can you read and write?"
+
+"Yes, thanks to the instruction of my mother."
+
+"Can you sing mass in the choir?"
+
+"I!" cried Vortigern in great astonishment. "I sing mass! No, no, by
+Hesus! We do not sing mass in my country."
+
+"There they are, the Breton pagans!" exclaimed Charles. "Oh, my bishops
+are right, they are a devil-possessed people, those folks of Armorica.
+What a pity that so handsome and so modest a lad should not be able to
+sing mass in the choir." Saying this, the Emperor pulled his thick cap
+close over his head and leaning heavily on his cane, said to the aged
+Breton: "Come, follow me, seigneur Breton. Ah, you only know of Charles
+the Fighter; I shall now make you acquainted with another Charles whom
+you do not yet know. Come, follow me." Limping, and leaning on his cane,
+the Emperor moved towards the door, making a sign to the others to
+follow; but stopping short at the threshold, he turned to Octave: "You,
+go to Hugh, my Master of the Hounds, and notify him that I shall hunt
+deer in the forest of Oppenheim. Let him send there the hounds, horses
+and all other equipments of the chase."
+
+"August Prince, your orders will be executed."
+
+"You will also say to the Grand Nomenclator of my table that I may take
+dinner in the pavilion of the forest, especially if the hunt lasts long.
+My suite will dine there also. Let the repast be sumptuous. You will
+tell the Nomenclator that my taste has not changed. A good large joint
+of roast venison, served piping hot, is now, as ever, my favorite
+treat."
+
+The young Roman again bowed low; Charles stepped out first from the
+chamber. He was followed by Eginhard, then by Amael. As Vortigern was
+about to follow his grandfather, he was retained for an instant by
+Octave, who, approaching his mouth to the lad's ear, whispered to him:
+
+"I shall carry to the apartments of the Emperor's daughters the news
+that he intends to hunt to-day. By Venus! The mother of love has you
+under her protecting wings, my young Breton."
+
+The lad blushed anew, and was about to answer the Roman when he heard
+Amael's voice calling out to him: "Come, my child, the Emperor wishes to
+lean on your arm in order to descend the stairs and walk through the
+palace."
+
+More and more disturbed in mind, Vortigern stepped towards Charles as
+the latter was saying to the chamberlains: "No, nobody is to accompany
+me except the two Bretons and Eginhard;" and nodding to the lad he
+proceeded: "Your arm will be a better support to me than my cane; these
+stairs are steep; step carefully."
+
+Supported by Vortigern's arm the Emperor slowly descended the steps of a
+staircase that ran out at one of the porticos of an interior courtyard.
+When the bottom was reached Charles dropped the young man's arm, and
+resuming his cane, said: "You stepped cleverly; you are a good guide.
+What a pity that you do not know how to sing mass in the choir!" While
+thus chattering, Charles followed a gallery that ran along the
+courtyard. The men who accompanied him marched a few steps behind.
+Presently the Emperor noticed a slave crossing the courtyard with a
+large hamper on his shoulders. "Halloa! You, there, with the basket!"
+the Emperor called out in his piercing voice. "You, there, with the
+basket! Come here! What have you in that basket?"
+
+"Eggs, seigneur."
+
+"Where are you taking them to?"
+
+"To the kitchen of the august Emperor."
+
+"Where do those eggs come from?"
+
+"From the Muhlsheim farm, seigneur."
+
+"From the Muhlsheim farm?" the Emperor repeated thoughtfully, and almost
+immediately added: "There must be three hundred and twenty-five eggs in
+that basket. Are there not?"
+
+"Yes, seigneur; that's the exact rent brought in every month from the
+farm."
+
+"You can go--and be careful you do not break the eggs." The Emperor
+stopped for a moment, leaned heavily upon his cane, and turning to
+Amael, called out to him: "Halloa, seigneur Breton, come here, draw
+near me." Amael obeyed, and the Emperor resuming his walk proceeded to
+say: "Charles the Fighter, the conqueror, is at least a good
+husbander--does it not strike you that way? He knows to an egg how many
+are laid by the hens on his farms. If you ever return to Brittany, you
+must not fail to narrate the incident to the housekeepers of your
+country."
+
+"If I ever again see my country, I shall tell the truth of what I have
+seen."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE PALATINE SCHOOL.
+
+
+Thus chatting, the Emperor Charles the Great arrived before a door that
+opened on the gallery. He knocked with his cane, and a clerk dressed in
+black opened. Struck with surprise, the clerk bent the knee and cried:
+"The Emperor!" And as he seemed to be about to rush to the door of a
+contiguous hall, the Emperor ordered him to stop:
+
+"Do not budge! Master Clement is giving his lessons, is he?"
+
+"Yes, my august Prince!"
+
+"Remain where you are," and addressing Amael: "Seigneur Breton, you
+shall now visit a school that I have founded. It is under the direction
+of Master Clement, a famous teacher, whom I have summoned from Scotland.
+The sons of the principal seigneurs of my court come here, in obedience
+to my orders, to study at this school, together with the poorest of my
+attendants."
+
+"This is well done, Charles--I congratulate you on that!"
+
+"And yet it is Charles the Fighter that has done this good thing--let us
+go in;" and turning to Vortigern: "Well, my young man, you who cannot
+sing mass, open your eyes and ears at their widest; you are about to see
+pupils of your own age, and of all conditions."
+
+The Palatine school, directed by the Scotchman Clement, into whose
+precincts the two Bretons followed the Emperor, held about two hundred
+pupils. All rose at their benches at the sight of Charles, but he
+motioned to them to resume their seats, saying:
+
+"Be seated, my boys; I prefer to see you with your noses in your books,
+than in air, under the pretext of respect for me." And seeing that
+Master Clement, the director of the school, was himself about to descend
+from his high desk, Charles cried out to him: "Remain on your throne of
+knowledge, my worthy master; here I am only one of your subjects. I only
+wanted to cast a glance over the work of these boys, and to learn from
+you whether they have made any progress during my absence. Let the boys
+come forward, one by one, with the copy-books in which to-day's work is
+being done."
+
+The Emperor prided himself not a little on his literacy. He sat down on
+a stool near the chair of Master Clement, and carefully examined the
+copy-books brought to him. It appeared that the pupils who were the sons
+of noble or rich parents, exhibited to the Emperor mediocre, or even
+poor work, while, on the other hand, the poorer pupils, or those whose
+parents were of lower rank, exhibited such excellent work that Charles,
+turning to Amael, said: "If you were as proficient in letters as myself,
+seigneur Breton, you would be able to appreciate, as I do, these
+manuscripts that I have just been looking over. The sweetest flavor of
+science is exhaled by these writings." Thereupon addressing the scholars
+who had distinguished themselves, the Emperor said impressively: "I give
+you great praise, my children, for the zeal you display in carrying out
+my wishes; strive after perfection, and I shall endow you with rich
+bishoprics and magnificent abbeys." The Emperor stopped and turned
+towards the lazy noblemen's sons and the sons of the idle rich; his brow
+puckered, and casting upon them an angry look, he cried out: "As to you,
+the sons of my Empire's principal men, as to you, dainty and prim lads,
+who, resting upon your birth and fortune, have neglected my orders and
+your studies, preferring play and idleness--as to you," the Emperor
+proceeded in a voice of ever heightening anger, and smiting the table
+with his cane, "as to you, look for admiration from other quarters than
+mine. I care nothing for your birth and your fortune! Listen to my words
+and keep them firm in your minds: if you do not hasten to make amends
+for your negligence by constant application, you will never receive
+aught from me!"
+
+The rich idlers dropped their eyes all of a tremble. The Emperor rose
+and said to a young clerk, named Bernard, barely twenty years of age,
+the excellence of whose work had attracted Charles' attention: "And you,
+my lad, you may now follow me. I appoint you from to-day a clerk in my
+chapel, nor will the evidence of my protection end there."
+
+The Emperor looked satisfied with himself. With a complaisant air he
+turned to Amael: "Well now, seigneur Breton, you have seen Charles the
+Fighter, emulating in his humble capacity of man, the acts of our Lord
+God when on earth. He separates the wheat from the chaff, he places the
+just at his right, the wicked at his left. If you ever return to
+Brittany, you will tell the school-masters of your country that Charles
+is not altogether a bad superintendent of the schools that he has
+founded."
+
+"I shall say, Charles, that I saw you officiating in the midst of the
+pupils with wisdom, justice, and kindness."
+
+"I wish letters and science to shed splendor upon my reign. Were you
+less of a barbarian, I would have you assist at a sitting of our
+academy. We there assume the illustrious names of antiquity. Eginhard is
+called 'Homer,' Clement 'Horace,' and I 'King David.' These immortal
+names fit us as giants' armors do pigmies. But, at least, we do honor,
+at our best, to those geniuses. Now, however," said the Emperor, rising
+and breaking off the thread of his discourse on his academy, "let us,
+like good Catholics, proceed to church, and hear mass upon our knees."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE BISHOP OF LIMBURG.
+
+
+Preceding his suite, that consisted of Eginhard, Amael, Vortigern and
+the newly-created clerk Bernard, the Emperor left the school-room and
+hobbled his way along a winding gallery. Encountering at one of the
+sharp and rather dark turns a young and handsome female slave, Charles
+addressed her with the same familiarity that he ever used towards the
+innumerable women of all conditions that stocked the palace. The Emperor
+chucked her under the chin, put his arm around her waist, and was about
+to carry his libertine freedom even further when, recollecting that,
+despite the darkness of the spot, he might be seen by the men in his
+suite, he motioned to the female slave that she withdraw, and laughing,
+observed to Amael: "Charles likes to show himself accessible to his
+subjects."
+
+"And above all to the female ones," retorted the aged Breton. "But I
+know that the priest's holy-water sprinkler will readily absolve you of
+all your sins."
+
+"Oh, the pagan of a Breton; the pagan of a Breton!" murmured the Emperor
+as he hobbled along and presently entered the basilica of
+Aix-la-Chapelle, contiguous to the palace.
+
+Vortigern and his grandfather were both dazzled by the indescribable
+magnificence of the temple, where all the attendants at the imperial
+palace were now gathered. At a distance Vortigern discerned, seated near
+the choir and among the numerous concubines of Charles, the Emperor's
+daughters and grand-daughters, clad in brilliant apparel, with the
+blonde and charming Thetralde close to her sister Hildrude. The Emperor
+took his accustomed seat at the chanter's desk among the sumptuously
+dressed choristers. One of these respectfully offered the Emperor an
+ebony baton, with which he beat time and gave the signal for the several
+chants in the liturgy. A little before the end of each stanza Charles,
+by way of signal, would raise his shrill voice and emit a gutteral cry,
+so strange and weird, that, on one of these occasions, Vortigern, whose
+eyes had accidentally encountered the large blue eyes of Thetralde
+obstinately fixed upon him, could hardly keep from laughing outright. So
+ridiculous was the figure cut by the Emperor, that despite the imposing
+appearance of the ceremony and despite the embarrassment into which the
+glances of Thetralde threw him, the youth's sense of decorum was
+severely taxed.
+
+The mass being over, Charles said to Amael: "Well, now, seigneur Breton,
+admit that, at a pinch, however much of a fighter I may be, I would make
+a passable clerk and a good chaunter."
+
+"I am not skilled in such matters. Yet I am free to tell you that, as a
+singer, the cries you uttered were frequently more discordant than those
+of the sea-gulls along our Brittany beach. Moreover, to me it looks as
+if the head of an Empire should have better things to do than to sing
+mass."
+
+"You will ever remain a barbarian and an idolater," cried the Emperor,
+stepping out of the basilica. At that moment, and still under the
+portico of the monumental building, a dignitary of the court pushed
+himself forward and bowing low, said to Charles:
+
+"August Prince, magnanimous Emperor, tidings have just been received of
+the death of the Bishop of Limburg."
+
+"Oh! Oh! Only now? That surprises me greatly. People are so hot after
+the quarry of bishoprics that the death of a bishop is always announced
+two or three days in advance. Did the deceased bishop die in the odor of
+sanctity? Did he commend himself to the next world by the founding of
+pious establishments, or by rich bequests to the poor?"
+
+"August Prince, it is said that he bequeathed only two pounds of silver
+to the poor."
+
+"How light a viaticum for so long a journey!" exclaimed a voice. It
+proceeded from Bernard, the poor and learned pupil whom Charles had just
+appointed clerk of his own chapel, and who, agreeable to the orders of
+the Emperor, had kept close to his master since they left the Palatine
+school.
+
+Charles turned abruptly towards the young man, who, crimson with
+confusion, already regretted the boldness of his language and was
+trembling at every limb. "Follow me!" said Charles with severity; and
+observing that other dignitaries of the court took the call as if
+addressed to themselves, he added: "No, only the two Bretons, Eginhard
+and the young clerk. The rest of you may keep yourselves in readiness
+for the hunt that we shall start upon in a few minutes."
+
+The brilliant crowd kept itself aloof, and the Emperor regained the
+gallery of the palace accompanied only by Vortigern, Amael, Eginhard and
+the poor Bernard, the last more dead than alive. The clerk walked last,
+fearing that he had angered the Emperor by his stinging sally on the
+niggardliness of the deceased bishop. The surprise of the young clerk
+was, accordingly, great when, arrived at the extremity of the gallery,
+Charles half turned to him, and with beaming eyes, said:
+
+"Draw near, draw near! Do you really think the Bishop of Limburg left
+too little money for the poor?"
+
+"Seigneur, pardon my inadvertent boldness!"
+
+"Answer. If I bestow that bishopric upon you, would you, the day you
+appear before God, have a better record for liberality than the Bishop
+of Limburg?"
+
+"August Prince," answered the clerk, his head swimming at the thought of
+such unheard-of good fortune, and dropping on his knees: "It rests with
+God and your will to decide my fate."
+
+"Arise. I appoint you Bishop of Limburg. But follow me. It will be well
+for you to learn, from personal observation, the greed with which
+bishoprics are striven for. The riches that they entail may be judged
+from the ardor with which their possession is pursued. And yet, once
+won, the cupidity of the incumbents, so far from being assuaged, seems
+whetted. Do you remember, Eginhard, that insolent Bishop of Mannheim?
+When, at the time of one of my campaigns against the Huns, I left him
+near my wife Hildegarde, did not the worthy feel so inflated with the
+friendship that my wife showed him, that he carried his audacity to the
+point of demanding from her as a gift the gold wand that I use as a
+symbol of my authority, for the purpose, as that impudent bishop
+declared, of using it for a cane? By the King of the Heavens! The
+sceptre of Charles, of the Emperor, is not so readily to be converted
+into a walking stick for the bishops of his empire!"
+
+"You are in error, Charles," put in Amael. "Sooner or later, the bishops
+will use your sceptre for a baton by means of which to drive peoples
+and kings as may suit themselves."
+
+"By the hammer of my grandfather! I will break the bishops' mitres on
+their own heads if ever they dare to usurp my power!"
+
+"No; you will do no such thing, and for the simple reason that you stand
+in fear of them. As a proof, behold the vast estates and the flatteries
+that you shower upon them."
+
+"I, fear the bishops!" cried the Emperor; and turning to Eginhard: "Is
+that matter of the rat settled with the Jew?"
+
+"Yes, seigneur," answered Eginhard, smiling. "The bishop closed the
+bargain yesterday."
+
+"That happens in time to prove to you that I am not afraid of the
+bishops, seigneur Breton--I, flatter them? When, on the contrary, I miss
+no opportunity to give them severe or gentle lessons wherever they
+deserve reproof. As to the worthy ones, I enrich them; and even then I
+look twice before bestowing upon them lands and abbeys belonging to the
+imperial domains. And the reason is plain. With this or that abbey or
+farm I am certain of securing to myself some soldier vassal greatly more
+faithful than many a count or bishop."
+
+Thus pleasantly chatting, the Emperor regained his palace, and in the
+company of Vortigern, Amael, Eginhard and the freshly appointed Bishop
+of Limburg, re-ascended the steep spiral staircase that led to his
+private apartment. Hardly had Charles entered his observatory when one
+of his chamberlains announced to him:
+
+"August Emperor, several of the leading officers in the palace have
+solicited the honor of being admitted to your presence in order to lay a
+pressing request before you--the noble lady, Mathalgarde (she was one of
+the numerous concubines of Charles) also called twice on the same
+errand. She awaits your orders."
+
+"Let the petitioners come in," answered Charles to the chamberlain, who
+immediately left the room. Addressing the young clerk, now bishop, with
+a jovial yet impressive air, Charles pointed to the curtain of the door,
+near which his usual seat was located, and said: "Hide yourself behind
+that curtain, young man; you are about to learn the number of rivals
+that the death of a bishop raises. It will aid your education."
+
+The young clerk had barely vanished behind the curtain, before the
+chamber was invaded by a large number of the palace familiars, officers
+and seigneurs at court. Urging their own claims, or the claims of the
+clients whom they recommended, the mob deafened the Emperor's ears with
+their clamor. Among these was a bishop magnificently robed, and of
+haughty, imperious mien. He elbowed himself forward into Charles'
+presence as fast as he could.
+
+"This is the bishop of the rat," Eginhard whispered to the Emperor. "The
+price he paid the Jew was ten thousand silver sous. The Jew scrupulously
+reported the amount to me, as you ordered."
+
+"Bishop of Bergues, have you not enough with one bishopric?" Charles
+cried out to the haughty prelate. "Do you come to solicit a second?"
+
+"August Prince--I have come to pray you that you grant me the bishopric
+of Limburg, just vacant, in exchange for that of Bergues."
+
+"Because the former is richer?"
+
+"Yes, seigneur; and if I obtain it, the share of the poor will only be
+all the larger."
+
+"Now, all of you, listen to me attentively," the Emperor cried, pointing
+his finger at the bishop and in a tone of severity: "Knowing the
+passionate love of this prelate for frivolous and ruinous curiosities,
+which he purchases at prodigious prices, I ordered the Jew Solomon to
+catch a rat in his house, the vilest looking rat ever caught in a
+rat-trap, to embalm the beast in precious aromatics, to wrap it up in
+oriental materials embroidered in gold, to offer it to the Bishop of
+Bergues as a most rare rat imported from Judea upon a Venetian vessel,
+and to sell it to the prelate as the most prodigious and miraculous of
+rats."
+
+A loud outburst of laughter broke from the throats of all the
+dignitaries in the audience, except the Bishop of Bergues, who
+shamefacedly cast down his eyes. "Now, then," proceeded Charles, "do you
+know what price the Bishop of Bergues paid for that prodigious rat? _Ten
+thousand silver sous!_ The Jew reported to me the amount--which will be
+distributed among the poor!" Charles stopped for a moment, and presently
+resumed with heightened severity: "Ye bishops, have a care! It should be
+your duty to be the fathers, the purveyors of the poor, and not to show
+yourselves greedy of vain frivolities. Yet here you are, doing exactly
+the opposite. More than all other mortals are you given to avarice and
+idle cupidity! By the King of the Heavens, take a care! The Emperor's
+hand raised you, it may also pull you down. Keep that in mind."
+
+As Charles was uttering these last words, the courtiers were seen to
+part and make way for Mathalgarde, one of the Emperor's concubines. The
+woman, a dame of surpassing beauty, approached Charles with a confident
+air and said to him gracefully:
+
+"My kind Seigneur, the bishopric of Limburg is vacant. I have promised
+it to a clerk who is under my protection, not doubting your kind
+approval."
+
+"Dear Mathalgarde, I have bestowed the bishopric upon a young man--a
+very learned and deserving young man; I could not think of taking it
+back from him."
+
+Mathalgarde was not disconcerted. Assuming the most insinuating voice at
+her command, she seized one of the Emperor's hands and proceeded
+tenderly: "August Prince, my gracious master, why bestow the bishopric
+so ill by giving it to a young man, perhaps a child. I conjure you,
+grant the bishopric to my clerk."
+
+Suddenly a plaintive voice that proceeded from behind the curtain fell
+upon the startled ears of the attendants: "Seigneur Emperor, be
+firm--allow not that a mortal tear from your hands the power that God
+has placed in them. Be firm, Seigneur." It was the voice of poor
+Bernard, who, fearing Charles was about to allow himself to be seduced
+by the caressing words of Mathalgarde, wished to remind him of his
+promise. The Emperor immediately rolled back the curtain, behind which
+the clerk stood, took him by the hand, drew him forward, and presenting
+him to the audience, said: "This is the new Bishop of Limburg!" Before
+the audience could recover from their stupor Charles said to Bernard in
+a voice loud and piercing enough to be heard by all present: "Do not
+forget to distribute abundant alms--it will some day be your viaticum on
+that long journey from which man never returns."
+
+The beautiful Mathalgarde, whose hopes had thus been rudely dashed,
+reddened with anger and abruptly left the apartment. The other
+courtiers, along with the Bishop of Bergues, speedily followed the
+chagrined woman, no less disappointed than herself.
+
+"Seigneur Breton," the Emperor said, as soon as the chamber was cleared,
+and motioning Amael to approach the door, which he opened wider to step
+out upon the balcony and enjoy the pleasant warmth of the autumn sun,
+"do you still think Charles is of a mood to allow the bishops to use his
+sceptre for a baton with which to drive him and his people?"
+
+"Charles, should it please you this evening, the experiences of the day
+being over, to accord me a short interview, I shall then express to you
+sincerely my thoughts upon all that I have seen here. I shall praise
+what seems good to me--and I shall censure the evil."
+
+"Then you see evil here!"
+
+"Here--and elsewhere."
+
+"How 'elsewhere'?"
+
+"Do you imagine that your palace and your city of Aix-la-Chapelle, this
+favorite residence of yours, is all there is of Gaul?"
+
+"What do you say of Gaul! I have just traversed the North of those
+regions. I have been as far as Boulogne, where I had a lighthouse
+erected for the protection of the ships. Moreover--" but breaking off,
+the Emperor pointed in the direction of that portion of the courtyard
+that the balcony commanded, saying: "Look yonder--listen!"
+
+Amael saw near one of the galleries a young man, robust and tall of
+stature, wearing a thick black beard, and clad in the robes of a bishop.
+Two of his slaves had just brought out to him a gentle horse, as befits
+a prelate, and led the animal near a stone bench in order to aid their
+master in mounting. But the young bishop, having noticed two women
+looking at him from a nearby casement, and no doubt wishing to give
+them a proof of his agility, impatiently ordered his attendants to take
+the horse from the bench. Thereupon, disdaining even the help of a
+stirrup, he seized the animal's mane with one hand and gave so vigorous
+a jump that he had great difficulty to keep his saddle, lest he fall
+over on the other side. The perilous leap attracted the Emperor's
+attention to the prelate, and he called out to him in his shrill,
+squeaky voice: "Eh! Eh! You, there, my nimble prelate. One word with
+you, if you please!" The young man looked up, and recognizing Charles,
+respectfully bowed his head.
+
+"You are quick and agile; you have good feet, good arms and a good eye.
+The quiet of our empire is every day disturbed by wars. We stand in
+great need of 'clerks' of your kidney. You shall stay with us and share
+with us our fatigues, seeing you can mount a horse so nimbly. I shall
+bestow your bishopric upon someone who is less sprightly. You shall take
+your place among my men-at-arms."
+
+The young bishop lowered his head in confusion. He looked at the Emperor
+with a suppliant eye. But the latter's attention was speedily drawn from
+the discomfited prelate by the distant barking of a large pack of
+hounds, and the reveille of hunting trumps.
+
+"It is my hunting-train," exclaimed the Emperor. "We shall depart for
+the hunt, seigneur Breton. This evening we shall continue our chat.
+Return with your grandson to your apartment. You will be served the noon
+meal. After that you will both join me. I am curious to see whether this
+youngster is as good a horseman as report makes him. Moreover, although
+the exercise of the chase is a frivolous pastime, you may, perhaps, find
+that Charles the Fighter makes good use even of frivolities. Be off now
+to dinner--and then, to horse!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+TO THE HUNT.
+
+
+Octave had come to take Amael and his grandson to the noon meal. While
+they walked towards one of the courtyards of the palace, in order to
+join the hunting suite of the Emperor, the young Roman, profiting by a
+moment when the aged Breton could not overhear him, said in a low voice
+to Vortigern:
+
+"Lucky boy. I am convinced that two pairs of eyes, one black as ebony,
+the other of azure blue, have been peering through the crowd of
+courtiers--" but interrupting the flow of his words at the sight of the
+deep crimson that suffused the lad's visage, he proceeded to say: "Wait
+till I have finished before you grow purple. Well, as I was saying, two
+beautiful blue eyes and two equally beautiful black ones have, more than
+once, sought to detect in the crowd of courtiers--Whom?--the venerable
+figure of your grandfather, because there is nothing so attractive as a
+long white beard. So much is that so that this forenoon, at mass, the
+blonde Thetralde and the brunette Hildrude quite forgot the thread of
+the divine service in order to contemplate incessantly--your
+grandfather, who was seated next to you. Come, now, you are blushing
+again. Are you, perchance, afraid lest the fascinating daughters of the
+Emperor fall in love with the centenarian?"
+
+"Your jokes are becoming insupportable."
+
+"Oh, how contagious is the court air. Hardly is this Breton away from
+his native fogs than he has become as full of wiles as an old clerk."
+
+More and more embarrassed by the banterings of Octave, Vortigern only
+stammered a few words. The noon meal was disposed of. The aged Breton,
+his grandson and the young Roman were presently mounted upon their
+spirited horses that they found held ready for them by slaves in the
+courtyard of the palace, and they rode briskly out to join the Emperor.
+
+Two of the sons of Charles, Carloman and Louis, or Luthwig as the Franks
+pronounced it, had arrived that same morning from their castle of
+Heristal and now accompanied their father, together with five of his
+daughters and four of his concubines, the other women of the palace
+being this time excluded from the hunt. Among the huntresses was Imma,
+the paramour who had so bravely borne Eginhard, the archchaplain, upon
+her back. Still handsome, she now bordered on the full ripeness of
+womanhood. Near her rode Bertha, searching with her eyes for Enghilbert,
+the handsome Abbot of St. Riquier. A little behind the couple came
+Adelrude, who, from afar, smiled upon Audoin, one of Charles' most
+daring captains. Last of all trotted the brunette Hildrude, together
+with the blonde Thetralde, both endeavoring to detect, no doubt, the
+Breton centenarian, as Octave had told Vortigern. Most of the seigneurs
+of Charles' suite wore singular costumes, brought at great expense from
+Pavia, whither commerce unloaded the riches of the Orient. Among the
+Emperor's courtiers, some were clad in tunics of Tyrian purple furnished
+with broad capes, ornamented with facings of embroidered Phoenician
+birds'-skin, while feathers of Asiatic peacocks' tail, neck and back,
+caused their rich vestments to glitter in all the shades of blue, gold,
+and emerald. Others of the courtiers wore precious jackets of Judean
+dormouse, or weasel--gowns much prized and as dainty and delicate as the
+skin of a bird. Finally caps with floating feathers, leggings of silk,
+boots of oriental red or green leather, embroidered with gold or silver,
+completed the splendid accoutrement of these people of the court.
+
+The rude rusticity of the Emperor's costume stood off in marked contrast
+with the magnificence of his courtiers. His coarse and large leather
+boots, furnished with iron spurs, reached up to his thighs; under his
+tunic he wore a broad sheep-skin coat with the fleece on the outside,
+and his head was covered with a cap of badger-skin. In his hand the
+Emperor carried a short-handled whip which he used to stir up the
+hunting dogs with. Thanks to his tall stature, which greatly exceeded
+that of any of his officers, Charles was able to detect Vortigern and
+Amael from afar, whereupon he cried out to the grandfather:
+
+"Eh, seigneur Breton. Come, if you please, to my side, with your
+grandson. I wish to ascertain whether, indeed, he is as good a horseman
+as my little girls claim."
+
+The ranks of the courtiers parted in order to allow a passage to Amael
+and his grandson, the latter of whom modestly followed his grandfather,
+not daring to raise his eyes lest they should fall upon the group of
+women that surrounded the Emperor. Charles watched Vortigern
+attentively, and the gracefulness with which the youth handled his
+horse, drew from the Emperor the remark:
+
+"Old Charles can judge at a glance of the skill of a rider. I am
+satisfied. But I suspect you love the hunt better than you do the mass,
+and a horse's saddle better than a church bench."
+
+"I do prefer the hunt to the mass," frankly responded Vortigern; "but I
+prefer war to the hunt."
+
+"Though your answer is not that of a good Catholic, it is the answer of
+a sincere lad. What do you think, my little ones?" added the Emperor,
+turning towards the group of huntresses. "Are you not of my mind?"
+
+"You asked the young man for his opinion, and he spoke out with
+sincerity. He says what he does; he will do what he says. Valor and
+loyalty are written upon his face," was the prompt answer that came from
+Hildrude.
+
+The blonde Thetralde, not daring to speak after her elder sister, grew
+cherry-red, and cast a look of intense jealousy, almost of rage, upon
+the brunette Hildrude, whose quick repartee she envied.
+
+"There is nothing left to me but to join in the praise of the young
+pagan's frankness, lest I get into trouble with my little girls. Come
+forward," and leaning over towards Amael, he pointed angrily with his
+whip at the crowd of courtiers who shimmered in their costly finery, and
+prinked in their flowing plumes. "Look at that bevy of richly
+caparisoned customers. Look at them well. You will presently wish to
+remember the figures they are now cutting," saying which, the Emperor
+rode off at a gallop, followed by all his court, and calling out to the
+courtiers as well as to the Bretons:
+
+"Once in the forest, each to himself, and at the mercy of his own horse.
+At the hunt there is neither Emperor nor courtier. There are only
+hunters and huntresses!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE FOREST OF OPPENHEIM.
+
+
+The hunt to which Charles the Emperor had galloped off with the buoyancy
+of youth, took place in a vast forest located at the very gate of
+Aix-la-Chapelle. The autumn sky, at first radiant, had been gradually
+overcast by one of the mists that are so frequent at the season and in
+that northern region. Obedient to the Emperor's orders, none of his
+courtiers attached himself to his steps. The hunters scattered. The more
+daring and venturesome did not quit the pack, now fretting in their
+leashes to start in pursuit of the deer across the thickets. The less
+daring and less enthusiastic sportsmen contented themselves with
+following at a distance the sound of the horns or the barking of the
+hounds; they straggled behind, or waited to see the deer dash across
+their path with the hounds and hunters at his heels. From the very start
+of the hunt, Charles, carried away by his ardor for the sport, left his
+daughters to themselves, unable as they were to follow him through the
+thickest of the jungle, into which the Emperor of the Franks plunged
+like the hottest of his huntsmen. For an instant, separated from his
+grandfather in the rush and crush of the tumultuous assembly, where
+nearly a hundred horses, gathered in a small space, were excited by the
+din of the horns, to which they added their own impatient neighing,
+champed their bits and reared wildly, Vortigern raised himself in his
+stirrups and searched with his eyes for Amael, when suddenly his own
+horse took the bit in his mouth and galloped off rapidly with his rider.
+When the young Breton finally succeeded, by dint of violent efforts, to
+master his mount, he found himself at a considerable distance from the
+chase. Seeking to penetrate with his eyes the mist that spread ever
+further and thicker over the forest, the young man perceived that he was
+on a long avenue whose issues it was impossible to distinguish. He
+listened, expecting to hear from the distance the noise of the chase,
+which would have guided him in his efforts to joint it. The profoundest
+silence reigned in this part of the forest. A moment later, however, the
+tramp of two horses rapidly approaching from behind, struck his ears,
+and immediately after, a cry, uttered in anger rather than fear. An
+instant later, Vortigern detected a vague form across the mist. By
+degrees the form became distinct, and soon the blonde Thetralde was
+disclosed to the wondering eyes of the young Breton, urging on her
+horse, and clad in a long robe of sapphire blue cloth, trimmed with
+ermine, white as the coat of her palfrey. On her blonde tresses
+Thetralde wore a small cap, also of ermine. A sash of Tyrean silk of
+lively colors, the long ends of which fluttered behind her in the air,
+was wound around her delicate waist. The childlike and charming visage
+of the Emperor's daughter, now enhanced by the ardor of her run, shone
+with the flush of health. Blushing at the sight of Vortigern, Thetralde
+dropped her large blue eyes, while the tight corsage of her robe rose
+and sank under the throbs of her maidenly bosom. Vortigern's disturbance
+equalled Thetralde's. Like her, he remained mute and embarrassed. His
+eyes also were lowered, and he felt his heart beat violently. The silent
+embarrassment of the two children was broken by Thetralde. In a timid
+and diffident voice she said to the young Breton without daring to raise
+her eyes to him:
+
+"I thought I would never be able to join thee. Thy horse had such a long
+lead of my palfrey--"
+
+"My horse carried me away--"
+
+"Oh, I noticed it--my sister Hildrude also," Thetralde added frowning
+with her pretty eyebrows. "Both of us thereupon rushed in thy
+pursuit--we feared that in thy unacquaintance with the paths of our
+forest thou mightest lose thy way."
+
+"It did seem to me that I heard the gallop of two horses--"
+
+"My sister wished to run ahead of me; but I struck her horse on the head
+with my whip. The frightened animal bolted to one side, carrying
+Hildrude along. She was angry and uttered a cry of rage."
+
+"Perhaps she runs some danger!"
+
+"No, my sister will be able to master her horse. But as the mist is very
+thick, she will not be able to meet us again. I am so happy about that!"
+
+Vortigern felt on the rack. Nevertheless, an ineffable sense of joy
+mingled with his agony. Anew the two children remained silent, and again
+the daughter of the Emperor of the Franks was the one to break the
+silence:
+
+"Thou dost not speak--art thou annoyed that I have joined thee?"
+
+"Oh, no, lovely princess--"
+
+"Perhaps thou thinkest me wicked because I struck my sister's horse?
+When I saw her striving to pass me, I no longer could control myself."
+
+"I hope that no ill may have befallen your sister."
+
+"I hope so too."
+
+For a moment Thetralde and Vortigern again relapsed into silence. With a
+slight touch of vexation the young girl once more resumed the
+conversation:
+
+"Thou art very quiet--"
+
+"I know not what to say--"
+
+"Nor I either; and yet I was dying with the wish to speak to thee--what
+is thy name?"
+
+"Vortigern."
+
+"I am called Thetralde--pronounce my name."
+
+"Thetralde--"
+
+"I love to hear thee pronounce my name."
+
+"Where do you think the hunt is now?" asked the young Breton with
+increasing uneasiness. "It will be difficult to find the hunters. The
+mist grows ever denser."
+
+"Should we lose ourselves," Thetralde replied laughing, "I do not know
+the paths of the forest."
+
+"Why did you not, then, remain near the people of the court and the
+seigneurs of the escort?"
+
+"I saw thee running off rapidly, and I followed thee."
+
+"That throws both you and me into a great perplexity."
+
+"Art thou sorry to find thyself alone here with me?"
+
+"Not at all!" cried Vortigern, "only I fear that this dense mist may
+change into rain towards evening, and that you may get wet. We should
+try and join the chase. Do you not think so?"
+
+"In what direction shall we go?"
+
+"It seemed to me a moment ago I heard the feeble sound of horns at a
+great distance."
+
+"Let us listen again," said Thetralde, bending her charming head to one
+side, while Vortigern sought to listen from the opposite side.
+
+"Dost thou hear anything?" queried the Emperor's daughter raising her
+sweet voice and addressing Vortigern, who stood at a little distance. "I
+can hear nothing."
+
+"Nor I either," rejoined the young Breton.
+
+"Here we are lost!" cried the young girl laughing merrily. "And if night
+overtakes us, what a terrible thing!"
+
+"And you laugh at such a plight?"
+
+"Is it that thou art afraid, and thou a soldier?" But immediately the
+handsome face of Thetralde assumed an uneasy look and she observed:
+"Does thy wound hurt thee, my brave companion?"
+
+"I am not thinking of my wound. I am only uneasy at perceiving that the
+mist grows still thicker. How can we regain our route? Whither could we
+go?"
+
+"But I do wish to speak of thy wound," replied Charles' daughter with
+infantine impatience. "Why is not thy arm any longer protected by a
+scarf, as it was yesterday?"
+
+"It would have incommoded me in the chase."
+
+Thetralde quickly detached her long belt of Tyrean silk and held it out
+to Vortigern. "Take this, my belt will take the place of thy scarf, and
+sustain thy arm."
+
+"It is unnecessary, I assure you."
+
+"Bad boy!" cried Thetralde, holding out her belt to Vortigern; and
+fixing upon him her beautiful blue eyes, almost imploringly said: "I beg
+of thee; do not refuse me!"
+
+Vanquished by the timid and loving look, the young Breton accepted the
+scarf; but as he held the reins of his horse with one hand he found it
+difficult to fasten the belt into a scarf-band around his neck.
+
+"Wait," and Thetralde approached her palfrey close to Vortigern's horse,
+leaned over in her saddle, took the two ends of the belt and tied them
+behind the lad's neck. The touch of the young girl's hand sent so wild a
+thrill through his frame that Thetralde, noticing the circumstance,
+said, as she finished the knot: "Thou tremblest--is it out of fear, or
+out of cold?"
+
+"The mist is becoming so thick, so wet," answered Vortigern, with
+increasing uneasiness. "Are not you yourself cold? I very much fear for
+you in this icy mist--"
+
+"Fear not for me. But seeing thou art cold, we can walk our horses. It
+would be useless to move any faster. Perhaps the chase that we are in
+search of will come our way."
+
+"So much the better!"
+
+"I am delighted to learn that thy grandfather and thyself will remain a
+long time with us."
+
+"May we be fortunate enough to do so!"
+
+The two children continued their way, walking their horses side by side
+in the long avenue, where one could see not twenty paces ahead, so thick
+had the mist become. Night presently began to draw near. After a short
+interval of mutual silence, Thetralde resumed:
+
+"We Franks are the enemies of the people of thy country; and yet I feel
+no enmity whatever towards thee; and thou, dost thou entertain any
+hatred for me?"
+
+"I could not feel hatred for a young girl."
+
+"Thou must feel very sorry for being far away from thy own country.
+Wouldst thou wish me to ask the Emperor, my father, to render grace to
+thy grandfather and thyself?"
+
+"A Breton never asks for grace!" proudly cried Vortigern. "My
+grandfather and I are hostages, prisoners on parole; we shall submit to
+the law of war."
+
+A fresh interval of silence followed upon this exchange of words. But
+soon, as Vortigern had foreseen, the dense mist changed into a fine and
+penetrating rain.
+
+"The rain is upon us!" exclaimed the young Breton. "Not a sound is
+heard. This route seems to be endless. No! here is a side path to the
+left. Shall we take it?"
+
+"As it may please thee," answered Thetralde with indifference.
+
+The girl was about to turn her horse's head, agreeable to the suggestion
+of Vortigern, when the latter suddenly leaped down from his mount,
+detached the belt of his sword, took off his blouse, remaining in his
+thick jacket of the material of his breeches, and said to Thetralde:
+
+"I consented to accept your scarf. It is now your turn. You must now
+consent to cover yourself with my blouse. It will serve you for a
+mantle."
+
+"Place it on my shoulders," answered Thetralde blushing; "I dare not
+drop the reins of my palfrey."
+
+No less agitated than his girl companion, Vortigern drew near her and
+laid his garment on the shoulders of Thetralde. But when it came to
+tying the sleeves of the blouse around her neck and almost upon the
+palpitating bosom of the young girl, who, with her eyes lowered and her
+cheeks burning, raised her little pink chin in order to afford Vortigern
+full ease in the accomplishment of his kindly office, the hands of the
+lad shook so violently, that his mission was not accomplished until
+after repeated trials.
+
+"Thou art cold; thou art shivering worse than thou didst before."
+
+"It is not the cold that makes me shiver--"
+
+"What ails thee then?"
+
+"I know not--the uneasiness that I feel on your behalf, seeing that
+night approaches. We have lost our way in the forest. The rain is coming
+down heavier. And we know not what road to take--"
+
+Interrupting her companion with a cry of joy, Thetralde pointed with her
+finger to one side of the avenue of trees that they were on, and
+exclaimed: "There is a hut down yonder!"
+
+So there was. Vortigern perceived in the center of a cluster of
+centenarian chestnut trees a hut constructed of thick layers of peat
+heaped upon one another. A narrow opening gave entrance to the bower,
+before which the remnants of some dry wood recently lighted were still
+seen smouldering. "It is one of the huts in which the woodcutter slaves
+take refuge during the day when it rains," explained Thetralde. "We
+shall be then under cover. Tie thy horse to a tree and help me alight."
+
+At the bare thought of sharing the solitary retreat with the young girl,
+Vortigern felt his heart thump under his ribs. A flush of burning fever
+rose to his face while, nevertheless, he shivered. After a moment's
+hesitation, the lad complied with the orders of his companion. He tied
+his horse to a tree, and, in order to assist the young girl to alight
+from her mount, he extended to her his arms and received within them the
+supple and nimble body of Thetralde. So profound was the emotion
+experienced by Vortigern at the touch of the maid, that he was almost
+overcome. But the daughter of Charles, running towards the hut with
+pretty curiosity, cried out merrily:
+
+"I see a moss-bank in the hut and a supply of dry wood. Let's light a
+fire. There are still some embers burning. Hurry. Hurry."
+
+The lad hastened to join his companion and stumbled over a large log of
+wood that rolled at his feet. Stooping, he saw strewn about it a large
+number of burrs that had dropped down from the tall chestnut trees
+overhead. At once forgetting his embarrassment, he exclaimed with
+delight:
+
+"A discovery! Chestnuts! Chestnuts!"
+
+"What a find," responded Thetralde, no less delighted. "We shall roast
+the chestnuts. I shall pick them up while thou startest the fire."
+
+The young Breton did as suggested by his girl companion, all the more
+readily seeing that he hoped to find in the sport a refuge from the
+vague, tumultuous and ardent thoughts, big at once with delight and
+anxiety, that he had been a prey to from the moment of his meeting with
+Thetralde. He entered the hut, took up several bunches of dry wood and
+rekindled the brasier into flame, while the daughter of Charles, running
+hither and thither, gathered a large supply of chestnuts which she
+brought into the hut in a fold of her dress. Letting herself down upon
+the moss-bank that lay at the further end of the hut, the interior of
+which was now brightly lighted by the glare of the fire which burned
+near the entrance, she said to Vortigern, motioning him to a seat near
+her:
+
+"Sit down here, and help me shell these chestnuts."
+
+The lad sat down near Thetralde and entered with her into a contest of
+swiftness in the shelling of chestnuts, during which, like herself, he
+more than once pricked his fingers in the effort to extract the ripe
+kernels from their burrs. Presently, looking into her face, he said
+archly:
+
+"And here you have the daughter of the Emperor of the Franks; seated
+inside of a peat hut and shelling chestnuts like any woodchopper and
+slave's daughter."
+
+"Vortigern," answered Thetralde, returning the look of her companion
+with a radiant face, "never was the daughter of the Emperor of the
+Franks more happy than at this moment."
+
+"And I, Thetralde, I swear to you that since the day I left my mother,
+my sister and Brittany, I have never been more pleased than to-day, than
+now, near you."
+
+"And if to-morrow should resemble to-day? and if it should be thus for a
+long time, a very long time--wouldst thou always be pleased?"
+
+"And you, Thetralde?"
+
+"Say 'thou' to me. We address one another with 'thou' in Germany. Say to
+me: 'And thou, Thetralde?'"
+
+"But the respect--"
+
+"I say 'thou' to you, and do not respect you the less for it," rejoined
+the maid laughing. "Say to me: 'And thou, Thetralde?'"
+
+"And thou, Thetralde?"
+
+"So thou wishest to know whether I would be happy at the thought of all
+our days resembling this one, and our living together?"
+
+"Yes, my charming Princess!"
+
+The young maid remained pensive, holding in her delicate fingers a half
+opened chestnut husk. Presently she raised her head and broke the
+silence with the question: "Vortigern, is it far from here to thy
+country?"
+
+"It took us more than a month to come here from Brittany."
+
+"Vortigern, what a beautiful journey that would make!"
+
+"What sayest thou?"
+
+Thetralde made a charming gesture commanding silence: "Hast thou any
+money about thee?"
+
+And proceeding to detach from her belt a little embroidered purse, she
+emptied its contents into her lap. There were several heavy pieces of
+gold and a large number of smaller pieces of silver and copper. Two of
+the latter, one of silver and one of copper, and both of about the size
+of a denier, were pierced and tied together by a thread of gold. "This
+is all my treasure," the girl observed.
+
+"Why are these two pieces tied together?" inquired Vortigern, with a
+look of curiosity.
+
+"Oh, these two must never be spent. We must preserve them carefully. One
+of them, the copper one, was struck the year of my birth; the other, the
+silver one, was struck this year, when I shall be fifteen. Fabius, my
+father's astronomer, has engraved upon these pieces certain magical
+signs corresponding to planets of happy influence. The Bishop of
+Aix-la-Chapelle blessed them. They are a talisman."
+
+"If it were not that they are a talisman, Thetralde, I would have
+requested these two little pieces from thee as a souvenir of this day."
+
+"To what purpose wouldst thou keep a souvenir of this day rather than of
+the next days to follow? Dost thou not desire that all should resemble
+one another? If thou desirest these two little pieces, here, take them;
+I give them to thee. A talisman is a useful thing on a journey. Place
+them in the pocket of thy jacket."
+
+Vortigern obeyed almost mechanically, while the young girl, after
+ingenuously counting up her little hoard, resumed, saying: "We here have
+five gold sous, eight silver deniers, and twelve copper deniers;
+besides my bracelets, my necklace and my earrings. With that we shall
+have money enough to journey as far as Brittany. Night is upon us; we
+shall spend it under the shelter of this hut. To-morrow we shall have
+the woodcutter slave lead us to Werstern, a little burg situated on the
+skirt of the forest, about two leagues from Aix-la-Chapelle. We shall
+buy some simple clothing for myself, a traveling cloak of cloth.
+To-morrow at daybreak we shall start on our route. Do not fear that I
+shall recoil before fatigue. I am neither as tall nor as strong as my
+sister Hildrude, and yet, if thou shouldst be tired or wounded, I am
+sure I could carry thee on my back, just as my sister Imma once carried
+her lover Eginhard on hers. But our chestnuts are now all shelled. Come
+and help me to put them under the hot ashes. We shall eat them when
+roasted."
+
+Raising with one hand the fold of her robe in which lay the nuts,
+Thetralde ran to the brasier. Vortigern followed her. He felt as in a
+dream. At times his reason gave way under the spell of an ardent and
+intoxicating vertigo. He knelt down silently, disturbed in mind, beside
+Thetralde before the brasier, into which the girl, steeped in thought,
+was slowly throwing the chestnuts one by one. Without, the rain had
+stopped; but the mist, now thickened to a fog with the approach of
+night, rendered the darkness complete. The reflection of the brasier
+only lighted up the charming faces of the two children on their knees
+beside each other. When the last chestnut had followed the others under
+the cinders, Thetralde rose, and leaning with familiar candor on
+Vortigern's shoulders said to him, taking his hand:
+
+"And now, while thy supper is cooking, let us go back and sit down upon
+the bench of moss for me to finish telling thee my prospects. I have
+thought over what we are to do."
+
+The night became profound. The flickering, vacillating flame in the
+expiring brasier seemed to cry for fresh fuel. The chestnuts, that had
+been consigned to its warmth, snapped noisily from their hulls into the
+air, announcing that their toothsome pulp was ready to be partaken of.
+Without, the horse and the palfrey of Vortigern and Thetralde pawed the
+ground and neighed impatiently, as if calling for their provender. The
+fire finally went out. The chestnuts changed to charcoal. The neighings
+of the horses resounded ever louder in the midst of the nocturnal
+silence of the forest. Thetralde and Vortigern did not issue from the
+hut.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+AT THE MORT.
+
+
+From the start of the hunt, the Emperor of the Franks had rushed
+headlong on the heels of the hounds. Amael, at first somewhat uneasy at
+the disappearance of his grandson in the midst of so large a concourse
+of cavaliers, was taken by accident towards that part of the forest
+whither the stag was leading the hounds from cover to cover. Amael even
+had the opportunity to assist, shortly before nightfall, at the killing
+of the stag, which, exhausted with fatigue after four hours of
+breathless running, turned at bay before the hounds when they had
+reached him at last, and strove to defend himself against them with the
+aid of the magnificent spread of antlers that crowned his head. The
+Emperor had not for a moment lost track of the hounds. He followed them
+speedily at the mort, together with a few others of the hunters. Jumping
+from his horse, he ran limping towards the animal at bay that already
+had gored several hounds with his sharp horns. Choosing with an
+experienced eye the opportune moment, Charles drew his hunting knife,
+and, rushing upon the desperate animal, plunged the weapon into the stag
+just above its shoulder, threw it down and then abandoned it to the
+hounds, that fiercely precipitated themselves upon the warm quarry and
+devoured it amidst the sonorous fanfare of the hunters' horns that thus
+announced the close of the chase and called their scattered fellows to
+reassemble. With his bloody knife in his hand, and after having
+contemplated with lively satisfaction the wild pack now red at their
+nozzles and contending with one another for the shreds of the stag's
+flesh, the Emperor's eyes fell upon Amael, to whom he called out gaily:
+
+"Eh, seigneur Breton--am I not a bold hunter?"
+
+"You will pardon my sincerity, but I find that at this moment the
+Emperor of the Franks, with his long knife in his hand, and his boots
+and coat spattered with blood, looks more like a butcher than like an
+illustrious monarch."
+
+"I feel happy, nevertheless, and consequently inclined to be indulgent,
+seigneur Breton," replied the Emperor, laughing; then, lowering his
+voice, he observed to Amael: "Now, see how the clothes of the seigneurs
+of my court look."
+
+In fact, most of the Emperor's seigneurs and officers, now hastening in
+on horseback to his presence from all sides of the thickets in response
+to the horns, presented an appearance that contrasted sadly with that
+which they had presented a few hours before. Magnificently attired at
+the start of the hunt, those seigneurs, who looked so resplendent in
+their rich tunics of silk, now presented a sight that was as ridiculous
+as it was pitiful. The embroideries on their tunics, at first so rich in
+color, were now frayed, soiled with mud, and torn by the branches of the
+trees and the thorns of the briars; the feathers that floated proudly
+from their caps, now drooped, wet, broken and draggled, resembling long,
+dislocated, and limp fish-bones; the boots of oriental leather had
+vanished under a thick coat of slush, and not a few of them, torn by the
+thorns, exposed their owners' hose, not infrequently also their skin
+itself. They shivered and looked distressed. Charles, on the contrary,
+simply and warmly dressed in his thick sheep-skin coat, which reached
+down over his boots of rough leather, and his head covered with his
+badger-skin bonnet, rubbed his hands with a cunning look of satisfaction
+in his eyes at the sight of his courtiers shivering with the cold and
+the wet. After contemplating the spectacle for a moment, Charles made a
+sign of intelligence to Amael and said to him in an undertone:
+
+"Just before breaking ranks for the hunt, I recommended you to observe
+the magnificence of the costumes of these coxcombs, who are as vain as
+Asiatic peacocks, and even more devoid of brains than the bird whose
+spoils they wear. Look at them now--the fine fellows!" Amael smiled
+approvingly, while the Emperor, shrugging his shoulders, turned to the
+seigneurs with his squalling voice: "Oh, ye most foolish of people,
+which is at this moment the most precious and useful of all our raiment?
+Mine, which I bought with barely a sou? Or yours, which you have had to
+pay for through the nose?"
+
+At this judicious raillery, the courtiers remained silent and confused,
+while the Emperor, placing both his hands on his spacious paunch, roared
+out aloud.
+
+"Charles," Amael said to him unheard by the others, "I prefer to hear
+you speak with that sly wisdom than to see you disemboweling stags."
+
+But the Emperor did not answer the aged Breton. He suddenly interrupted
+the discourse, extending his hand towards a group of nearby serfs, and
+crying out:
+
+"Oh! Look at that pretty girl!"
+
+Amael followed with his eyes the direction indicated by Charles and saw
+amid several of the woodcutter slaves of the forest who had been
+attracted by curiosity to see the hunt, a young girl barely covered in
+rags, but of remarkable beauty. A much younger child of about ten or
+eleven years held her by the hand. A poor old woman, as wretchedly clad
+as the girl, was in the company of the two. The Emperor of the Franks,
+whose large eyes glistened like carbuncles with the fire of lust,
+repeated, addressing Amael:
+
+"By the cape of St. Martin! The girl is beautiful. Is it that your
+hundred years on your back render you insensible to the sight of such
+rare beauty, seigneur Breton? What a beautiful girl!"
+
+"Charles, the misery of that creature strikes me more strongly than her
+beauty."
+
+"You are very commiserate, seigneur Breton--so am I. Linen and silk
+should clothe so charming a figure. No doubt she is the daughter of some
+woodman slave. I can tell you, one runs at times across wonderfully
+beautiful girls in the forest. More than once I have dropped the chase
+in the middle of the heat to pursue another scent. But in honor to
+truth, I have never seen such a charmer before. It must be her good star
+that brought her across the path of Charles." Without removing his eyes
+from the young girl, Charles called to one of the seigneurs in his
+suite: "Eh! Burchard. Come here; I have orders for you."
+
+The seigneur Burchard quickly alighted from his horse and hastened to
+obey the call of the Emperor. The latter, moving a few steps away from
+Amael, whispered a few words in the ear of the seigneur, who, showing
+himself greatly honored with the mission given him by his master, bowed
+respectfully, and, leading his horse by the bridle, approached the old
+woman and the two younger girls who stood by her, motioned to them to
+follow him, and vanished with his charge behind the group of hunters. A
+deep flush colored the cheeks of Amael; he puckered his brows, and his
+features became expressive of as much indignation as disgust. At that
+same instant Amael noticed that the Emperor was looking about him with a
+certain degree of uneasiness and calling out aloud:
+
+"Where are my little girls? Can they have lost track of the hunt?"
+
+"August Emperor," said one of the officers, "Richulff, who accompanied
+your august daughters, told me that when the rain began to fall some of
+them concluded to return to Aix-la-Chapelle, while the others decided to
+seek the shelter of the pavilion, where you ordered supper to be held
+ready."
+
+"Think of the timorous bodies! I wager that my little Thetralde is not
+among the Amazons who are afraid of a drop of water, and who hastened
+back to the palace. As they are all safe, I shall not worry. Let us
+hasten to the pavilion ourselves, because I am ravenously hungry." And
+remounting his horse, the Emperor added: "We shall find at the pavilion
+the damsels who have preferred to sup with their father. The
+stout-hearted lasses shall be well feasted, and I shall bestow rich
+presents upon them."
+
+Seeing that Charles was manifesting some slight uneasiness on the score
+of his daughters, Amael, in turn, began to feel preoccupied with regard
+to Vortigern, whom, for some time, he had been searching for with his
+eyes among the groups of the approaching knights. As his eyes fell upon
+Octave, who just then came running in at a gallop, the aged Breton
+inquired from him with no little anxiety:
+
+"Octave, have you seen my grandson anywhere?"
+
+"We parted company almost at the very start of the hunt."
+
+"He is not with us," proceeded Amael with increasing uneasiness. "Night
+is here and he is not familiar with the paths of the forest."
+
+"Oh! Oh! seigneur Breton," put in the Emperor of the Franks, who,
+immediately upon remounting his horse, had drawn near the aged man and
+overheard his question to the young Roman, "you seem to feel uneasy
+about your youngster. Well, what if he should have lost his way this
+evening? He will find it again to-morrow. Do you fear he will die of one
+night spent in the forest? Is not hunting the school of war? Come, come!
+Be at ease. Besides, who knows," added Charles with a roguish air.
+"Mayhap he encountered some pretty woodcutter's daughter in some of the
+huts of the forest. It is like his years. You surely do not mean to make
+a monk of him? Pretty lassies are meant for handsome lads."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+EMPEROR AND HOSTAGE.
+
+
+Led by the Emperor of the Franks, the cavalcade of hunters rode towards
+the pavilion where supper was to be partaken of before the return to
+Aix-la-Chapelle. Charles called Amael to his side, and noticing, as they
+rode, that the aged Breton continued preoccupied about Vortigern, the
+Emperor turned to the centenarian with a merry twinkle in his eye:
+
+"What do you think of this day? Have you recovered from your prejudices
+against Charles the Fighter? Do you think me at all worthy to govern my
+Empire, a domain as vast as the old Empire of Rome? Do you deem me
+worthy of reigning over the population of Armorica?"
+
+"Charles, in my youth your grandfather proposed to me that I be the
+jailer of the last descendant of Clovis, an ill-starred boy, then a
+prisoner in an abbey, and having barely one suit of clothes to cover
+himself with. That boy, when grown to man's estate, was, upon orders of
+Pepin, your father, tonsured and locked up in a monastery, where he died
+obscure and forgotten. Thus do royalties end. Such is the expiation,
+prompt or late, reserved for royal stocks that issue from conquest."
+
+"Then the stock of Charles, whom the whole world calls the Great,"
+rejoined the Emperor with an incredulous and proud smile, "is,
+according to your theory, destined to run out obscurely in some
+do-nothing king?"
+
+"It is my firm conviction."
+
+"I took you at first for a man of good judgment," replied the Emperor
+shrugging his shoulders; "I must now admit that I was mistaken."
+
+"This very morning, in your Palatine school, you observed that the
+children of the poor studied with zeal, while the children of the rich
+are lazy. The reason is plain. The former feel the need of work to
+insure their well-being; the latter, being provided with and in
+possession of ample fortunes, make no effort to acquire knowledge. It is
+to them superfluous. Your ancestors, the stewards of the palace, have
+done like the children of the poor. Your descendants, however, being no
+longer in need of conquering a crown, will imitate the children of the
+rich."
+
+"Despite a certain appearance of logic, your argument is false. My
+father usurped a crown, but he left to me at the most the Kingdom of
+Gaul. To-day Gaul is but one of the provinces of the immense empire that
+I have conquered. Obviously, I did not remain idle and torpid like the
+rich boys in your comparison."
+
+"The Frankish Kings, together with their leudes, who later became great
+landed seigneurs, and the bishops, plundered Gaul, divided her territory
+among them, and reduced her people to slavery. But after a period, be it
+short or long, learn this, Oh, great Emperor, the people will rise in
+their strength, glorious, terrible, and they will know how to reconquer
+their patrimony and their independence!"
+
+"Let us drop the future and the past. What think you of Charles?"
+
+"I think that you are mistakenly proud of having almost reconstructed
+the administrative edifice of the Roman emperors, and of causing, like
+them, your will to weigh upon the whole domain, from one end to the
+other. Of all that, nothing will be left after you are gone! All the
+peoples that have been conquered and subjugated by your arms will rise
+in revolt. Your boundless empire, composed of kingdoms that no common
+bond of origin, of customs, or of language holds together, will fall to
+pieces; it will crumble together and will bury your descendants under
+its ruins."
+
+"Do you mean to imply that Charles the Great will have passed over the
+world like a shadow without leaving behind him any lasting monument of
+his glory?"
+
+"No, your life will not have been worthless. By ceaselessly warring
+against the Frisians, the Saxons and other peoples who wished to invade
+Gaul, you have checked, if not forever, at least for a long time, the
+maraudings of those hordes that ravaged the north and east of our
+unhappy country. But if you have barred the entrance of the barbarians
+into Gaul over land, the sea remains open to them. The Northman pirates
+almost every day make descents upon the coasts of your Empire, and their
+boldness increases to the point that ascending in their vessels the
+Meuse, the Gironde and the Loire, they threaten the very heart of your
+dominion."
+
+"Oh, old man! This time, I fear me, your misgivings do not lead you
+astray. The Northmans are the only source of disquiet to my sleep! The
+bare thought of the invasions of those pagans causes me to be overcome
+with involuntary and unexplainable apprehensions. One day, during my
+sojourn at Narbonne, several vessels of those accursed people extended
+their piratical incursion into the very port. A sinister presentiment
+seized me; despite all I could do to restrain them, the tears rolled out
+of my eyes. One of my officers asked me the reason for my sudden fit of
+sadness. 'Do you wish to know, my faithful followers,' I answered, 'do
+you wish to know why I weep so bitterly? Certes, I do not fear that
+these Northmans may injure me with their piracies; but I feel profoundly
+afflicted at the thought that, in my very lifetime, they have the
+audacity of touching upon the borders of my Empire; and great is my
+grief because I have a presentiment of the sufferings that these
+Northmans will inflict upon my descendants and my peoples;'" and the
+Emperor remained for several minutes as if overpowered by the sinister
+premonition that he now recalled.
+
+"Charles," Amael resumed with a grave voice, "all royalty that issues
+from conquest, or from violence, carries within itself the germ of
+death, for the reason that its principle is iniquitous. Perchance those
+Northman pirates may some day cause your stock to expiate the original
+iniquity of the royal sway that you hold from conquest."
+
+Whether, absorbed in his own thoughts, the Emperor failed to hear the
+last words of the Gaul, or whether he could make no answer to them, he
+suddenly cried out:
+
+"Let us forget the accursed Northmans. Speak to me of the good that I
+have done. Your words of praise are rare; I like them all the more for
+that."
+
+"You are not cruel out of wilfulness, although you might be reproached
+for the massacre of more than four thousand Saxon prisoners."
+
+"I remember the event perfectly," Charles said with emphasis. "I had to
+terrify those barbarians by a signal example. It was a fatal
+necessity!"
+
+"Your heart is accessible to certain promptings of justice and humanity.
+In your capitularies you made an effort to improve the condition of the
+slaves and the colonists."
+
+"It was my duty as a Christian, as a Catholic. All men are brothers."
+
+"You are no more Christian than your friends, the bishops. You have
+simply yielded to an instinct of humanity, natural to man, whatever his
+religion may be. But still you are not a Christian."
+
+"By the King of the Heavens! Perhaps I am a Jew?"
+
+"Christ said, according to St. Luke the Evangelist: _The Lord hath sent
+me to preach deliverance to the captives--to set at liberty them that
+are bruised._ Now, then, your dominions are full of prisoners carried by
+conquest from their own homes; the estates of your bishops and your
+abbots are stocked with slaves. Accordingly, neither you nor your
+priests are Christians. A Christian, according to the words of the
+Christ, must never hold his fellowman in bondage. All men are equal."
+
+"Custom so wills it; I merely conform myself thereto."
+
+"What is there to hinder you, and the bishops as well as you, all-mighty
+Emperor that you are, from abolishing the abominable custom? What is
+there to hinder you from emancipating the slaves? What is there to
+hinder you from restoring to them, along with their liberty, the
+possession of the land that they themselves render fruitful with the
+sweat of their brow?"
+
+"Old man, from time immemorial there have been slaves, and there ever
+will be slaves. What would it avail to be of the conquering race if not
+to keep the fruits of conquest? By the King of the Heavens! Do you take
+me for a barbarian? Have I not promulgated laws, founded schools,
+encouraged letters, arts and sciences? Is there in the whole world a
+city comparable with Aix-la-Chapelle?"
+
+"Your gorgeous capital of Aix-la-Chapelle, the capital of your Germanic
+possessions, is not Gaul. Gaul has remained to you a strange country.
+You love forests that lend themselves to your autumn hunting parties,
+and the rich domains, whence every year the revenues are carted to your
+residences on the other side of the Rhine. But you do not love Gaul,
+seeing that you exhaust her resources in men and money in order to carry
+on your wars. Frightful misery desolates our provinces. Millions of
+God's creatures, deprived almost of bread, shelter and clothes, toil
+from dawn to dusk, and die in slavery--all in order to sustain the
+opulence of their masters. If you cause instruction to be given to some
+pupils in your Palatine school, you allow, on the other hand, millions
+of God's creatures to live like brutes! Such is the condition of Gaul
+under your reign, Charles the Great!"
+
+"Old man," rejoined the Emperor, with a somber face and rising anger,
+"after treating you as a friend this whole day, I looked for different
+language. You are more than severe, you are unjust."
+
+"I have been sincere towards you, the same as I was towards your
+grandfather."
+
+"Mindful of the service that you rendered my grandfather at the battle
+of Poitiers, I meant to be generous towards you. I meant to do the right
+thing by myself, by your people, and by you. I hoped to see you, after
+this day spent in close intimacy with me, drop your prejudices, and to
+be able to say to you: I have vanquished the Bretons by force of arms; I
+desire to affirm my conquest by persuasion. Return to your country;
+report to your countrymen the day that you spent with Charles; they will
+trust your words, seeing that they place implicit confidence in you. You
+were the soul of the last two wars that they sustained against me. Be
+now the soul of our pacification. A conquest founded on force is often
+ephemeral; a conquest cemented in mutual affection and esteem is
+imperishable. I trust in your loyalty to gain the hearts of the Bretons
+to me. Such was my hope. The bitter injustice of your words dashes it.
+Let us think of it no more. You shall remain here as a hostage. I shall
+treat you as a brave soldier, who saved my grandfather's life. Perhaps
+in time you will judge me more justly. When that day shall have come,
+you will be allowed to return to your own country, and I feel sure you
+will then tell them what is right, as to-day you would only tell them
+what is wrong. All things will come in due season."
+
+"Although your hopes can not realize the object that you proposed, they,
+nevertheless, are an evidence of a generous soul."
+
+"By the cap of St. Martin! You Bretons are a strange people. What! If
+you should believe that I deserve esteem and affection, and if your
+countrymen should share your opinion, would neither you nor they accept
+with joy the authority that you now submit to by force?"
+
+"With us it is no question of having a more or less worthy master. We
+want no master."
+
+"And yet I am your master, ye pagans!"
+
+"Until the day when we shall have reconquered our independence by a
+successful insurrection."
+
+"You will be crushed to dust, exterminated! I swear it by the beard of
+the eternal Father."
+
+"Exterminate the last of the Breton Gauls, strangle all the children,
+and you will then be able to reign over the desert of Armorica. But so
+long as there lives a single man of our race in our country, you may be
+able to vanquish, but never to subjugate it."
+
+"But tell me, old man, is it that my rule is so terrible, and my laws so
+hard?"
+
+"We want no foreign domination. To live according to the laws of our
+fathers, freely and as becomes free men, to choose our chiefs, to pay no
+tribute, to lock ourselves up within our own frontiers and to defend
+them--these are our aspirations. Accept them and you will have nothing
+to fear from us."
+
+"To dictate conditions to me! to me, who reign as sovereign master over
+all Europe! To have a miserable population of shepherds and husbandmen
+impose conditions to me! to me, whose arms have conquered the world!
+Impudence can reach no further!"
+
+"I might answer you that, in order to vanquish that miserable population
+of shepherds, of woodmen and husbandmen entrenched in their mountain
+fastnesses, behind their rocks, their marshes and their forests, your
+veteran bands had to be requisitioned for Gaul--"
+
+"Yes," cried the Emperor in a vexed voice, "in order to keep your
+accursed country in obedience, I am forced to leave there my choicest
+troops, troops that I may need at any moment here in Germany, where I
+have hard battles to fight."
+
+"That must be an unpleasant thing to you, Charles, I admit. Without
+mentioning the maritime invasions of the Northmans, there are the
+Bohemians, the Hungarians, the Bavarians, the Lombards and so many other
+people whom your arms have overcome, the same as they overcame us, the
+Bretons--all vanquished, but none subjugated. From one moment to the
+other they may rise anew, and, what is graver still, menace the very
+heart of your Empire. As to us, on the contrary, all that we demand is
+to live free; we never think of going beyond our frontiers."
+
+"Who guarantees to me that, once my troops, are out of your infernal
+country, you will not forthwith resume your armed excursions and attacks
+against the Frankish forces that are bivouacked on this side of your
+borders?"
+
+"The other provinces are Gallic like ourselves. Our duty bids us to
+provoke them, and to aid them to break the yoke of the Frankish kings.
+But the thoughtful people among us are of the opinion that the hour for
+revolt has not yet come. For the last four centuries the Catholic
+priests have moulded the minds of the people to slavery. Alas, centuries
+will pass before they re-awaken from their present stupor. You admit
+that it is dangerous for you to be compelled to keep a portion of your
+best troops tied up in Brittany. Recall your army. I give you my word as
+a Breton, and I am, moreover, authorized to make the pledge in the name
+of our tribes, that, so long as you live, we shall not go out of our
+frontiers."
+
+"By the King of the Heavens! The joke is rather too harsh. Do you take
+me for a fool? Do I not know that, if I grant you a truce by withdrawing
+my troops, you will take advantage of it to prepare anew for war after
+my death? But we shall always know how to suppress your uprisings."
+
+"Yes, we shall certainly take up arms if your sons fail to respect our
+liberties."
+
+"And you really expect me--me, the vanquisher, to consent to a shameful
+truce? To consent to withdraw my forces from a country that it has cost
+me so much trouble to overcome?"
+
+"Very well; leave, then, your army in Brittany, but depend upon it that,
+within a year or two, new insurrections will break out."
+
+"Insane old man! How dare you hold such language to me when you, your
+grandson, and four other Breton chiefs are my hostages! Oh! I swear by
+the everlasting God, your head will drop at the first sign of an
+insurrection. Do not lean too heavily upon the good nature of the old
+Charles. The terrible example I made of the four thousand prisoners whom
+I took from the revolted Saxons should be proof enough to you that I
+recoil before no act of necessity. Only the dead are not to be feared."
+
+"The Breton chiefs who remained on the way by reason of their wounds,
+and who will speedily join me and my grandson at Aix-la-Chapelle, would,
+no more than my grandson and myself, have accepted the post of hostages
+had the same been without danger. Whatever the fate may be that awaits
+us, we shall not falter in our duty. We are here in the very center of
+your Empire, and well in condition to judge of the opportuneness for an
+uprising. From this very place we will give the signal for a fresh war,
+the moment we think the time is favorable."
+
+"By the King of the Heavens! This audacity has gone far enough!" cried
+the Emperor, pale with rage. "To dare tell me that these traitors,
+according to what they may see and spy near my court, will themselves
+send to Brittany the order to revolt! Oh, I swear by God, from
+to-morrow, from this very evening, both you and your grandson will be
+cast into a dungeon so dark that you will need lynx's eyes to find out
+what goes on around here. By the cap of St. Martin! Such insolence is
+enough to turn one into a ferocious beast. Not another word, old man!
+Here we are at the pavilion. I shall now join my daughters. The sight of
+them will console me for your ingratitude!"
+
+Uttering these last words with mingled rage and sorrow, the Emperor put
+his horse to the gallop in order to reach all the quicker the hunting
+pavilion, where he expected to meet his daughters, and satisfy his
+growing hunger. The seigneurs in Charles' suite were about to follow
+their master's example and quicken the steps of their mounts, when the
+Emperor, suddenly turning around, cried out to them, with an imperious
+voice:
+
+"No one shall follow me. I want to be alone with my daughters! You shall
+await my orders near the pavilion."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+FRANK AND BRETON.
+
+
+The Emperor rode rapidly forward toward the hunting pavilion. The
+seigneurs of his suite received the angry order of their master with
+silent obedience, and, reining in their horses, proceeded at a slower
+gait towards the rendezvous. Lost among them, Amael rode along, steeped
+in thought, revolving the recent conversation he had with Charles, and
+at the same time more and more a prey to anxiety at the prolonged
+absence of Vortigern. The Emperor's courtiers shivered under their robes
+of silk and drabbled feathers, and silently grumbled at the whim of
+their Emperor, whereby the looked-for time was retarded when they might
+warm themselves at the fire of the pavilion, and revive their spirits
+with supper. Arrived in the close neighborhood of the pavilion, they
+alighted from their horses. They had been conversing together about a
+quarter of an hour, when Amael, who had also alighted and leaned
+pensively against one of the nearby gigantic trees of the forest,
+noticed Octave hastening in his direction and calling out to him:
+
+"Amael, I was looking for you--come quick!"
+
+The aged Breton tied his horse to the tree and followed Octave. When
+both had walked a little distance away from the group of the Frankish
+seigneurs, the young Roman proceeded:
+
+"I feel mortally uneasy on the score of Vortigern. Your grandson having
+been carried away by his horse early in the hunt, Thetralde and
+Hildrude, two of the Emperor's daughters, followed him on the spot. What
+may have happened? I can not guess. I am told positively that Hildrude,
+who seemed greatly irritated, rode back to Aix-la-Chapelle with two
+other sisters and all the concubines of the Emperor who had come to the
+chase. Thetralde must have remained alone behind with Vortigern in some
+part of the forest."
+
+"Finish your account."
+
+"I know from experience how easy-going are the morals of this court.
+Thetralde has taken notice of your grandson. She is fifteen, has been
+brought up amidst her sisters, who have as many paramours as their own
+father has mistresses. Despite himself, Vortigern has made a lively
+impression upon the heart of Thetralde. The two are children. They have
+vanished together, and must have been lost together, seeing that three
+of the Emperor's daughters have returned to the palace and the other two
+are at the pavilion. Only Thetralde is not to be found. If she lost her
+way in the company of Vortigern--I would this morning have been of the
+opinion that it was to be hoped--"
+
+"Heaven and earth!" broke in the aged Breton, growing pale. "How dare
+you joke on such a matter!"
+
+"This morning I would have considered the adventure highly amusing. This
+evening it seems to me redoubtable. A minute ago, angered at something
+or other, the Emperor clapped both his spurs to his horse's flanks,
+ordered that none should follow him, and rushed towards the pavilion.
+Rothaide and Bertha, daughters of Charles, notified of their father's
+approach by the clatter of his horse, and believing that his whole
+suite was with him, sped away to the upper chambers of the
+pavilion--Bertha with Enghilbert, the handsome Abbot of St. Riquier,
+Rothaide with Audoin, one of the Emperor's officers."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"The Emperor arrives all alone and dismounts. 'Where are my daughters?'
+he calls out impatiently to the Grand Nomenclator of his table who
+happens to be superintending the preparations for the supper. The Grand
+Nomenclator answers in great embarrassment: 'August Emperor, allow me to
+go and announce your arrival to the Princesses; they have withdrawn to
+the upper chambers in order to take some rest while waiting for supper.'
+'I shall go myself and see them,' replies Charles, saying which, he
+clambers up the stairs. Old Vulcan surprising Venus and Mars at their
+amorous escapade, could not have been more furious than was the august
+Emperor when he surprised his daughters in the arms of their gallants.
+The Grand Nomenclator having remained near the door of the staircase
+soon heard an infernal racket in the chambers above. The irate Charles
+was plying his hunting whip right and left over the two amorous couples.
+A profound silence ensued thereupon. The Emperor having the habit of not
+noising such things about came down again, calm in appearance, but pale
+with rage, and--"
+
+Octave's narrative was at this point suddenly interrupted by tumultuous
+cries that proceeded from the pavilion. Slaves were seen rushing out of
+the building with lighted torches in their hands, and immediately the
+shrill voice of Charles himself was heard calling out:
+
+"To horse! My daughter Thetralde has lost her way in the forest! She has
+not returned to the palace--and she is not here in the pavilion. Take
+the torches--and to horse! To horse!"
+
+"Amael, in the name of your grandson's welfare," whispered Octave
+precipitately in the Breton's ear, "follow me at a distance. There is
+just one chance left to us of saving Vortigern from the Emperor's rage."
+Saying this, the young Roman disappeared among the seigneurs of the
+court who were hastening towards their horses, while Charles, whose
+rage, restrained for a moment, now exploded with renewed fierceness,
+screeched at them:
+
+"Look at them, gaping open-mouthed, like a herd of startled sheep! Let
+each one take a torch and follow one of the avenues of the forest, all
+the while calling out to my daughter as loud as he can. Halloa
+there--let someone take up a torch and ride ahead of me!"
+
+At these words, Octave seized a torch and approached the Emperor, while
+other seigneurs rode rapidly off in several directions in search of the
+lost Thetralde. The meaning of the hurried recommendation that Octave
+had addressed to him a minute before flashed at this moment clear
+through Amael's mind. Mounting his horse at the same time that Charles
+and the young Roman who bore the torch did theirs, he allowed the two to
+take somewhat the lead of him, and then followed them at a distance,
+guided by the torch that Octave held aloft.
+
+As Octave later narrated to him, the Emperor alternated between fits of
+rage, provoked by the freshest proof of the libertinage to which his
+daughters were addicted, and uneasiness at the disappearance of
+Thetralde. These several sentiments were given vent to by broken words
+that from time to time reached the ears of the young Roman who preceded
+Charles by only a few paces.
+
+"My poor child!--where can she be?--Perhaps dying of cold and fear--at
+the bottom of some thicket, perhaps!" murmured the Emperor. Presently he
+would call out at the top of his voice: "Thetralde! Thetralde! Oh, she
+does not hear me! King of the Heavens, have pity upon me. So young--so
+delicate--a chilly night like this is enough to kill her. Oh, my unhappy
+old age, that this child might have served to console--she would not
+have resembled her sisters! Her fifteen year forehead was never
+crimsoned with an evil thought. Oh, dead! Dead, perhaps! No, no--youth
+is full of pranks! Besides, these daughters, all of whom I have brought
+up like boys, are all accustomed to fatigue. They accompany me during my
+long journeys. But yet, the night is so dark--and it is so chilly!"
+Whereupon the Emperor would again call out: "Thetralde!" and suddenly
+reining in his horse and listening, the Emperor of the Franks broke the
+silence with the sudden question: "Did you not hear a sound like the
+neighing of a horse?"
+
+"I did, august Prince," answered the young Roman.
+
+"Listen! Listen again!"
+
+Octave kept silent. Soon again the sound of distant neighing broke upon
+the stillness of the forest.
+
+"No doubt any longer. Despairing of finding her way, my daughter must
+have tied her palfrey to a tree!" exclaimed the Emperor, his heart
+bounding with hope. Calling out to Octave, he ordered: "Gallop! Gallop
+faster!" and himself increasing his own speed to the utmost cried out
+uninterruptedly: "Thetralde! Thetralde! Thetralde, my daughter!"
+
+Amael, who followed Charles at a goodly distance, keeping himself well
+in the shadow, also fell into a gallop the moment he noticed the
+torchlight that guided him suddenly move with increased swiftness into
+the darkness. The Emperor and Octave were close upon the spot where,
+before entering the woodcutter's hut, Vortigern and Thetralde had tied
+their mounts. The glimmer of the torch fell upon and lighted the white
+body of Thetralde's palfrey, throwing into the shade Vortigern's horse
+that was tied a few steps further away. The Emperor recognized his
+daughter's favorite mount, and cried out:
+
+"Thetralde's palfrey!" and immediately thereupon perceiving the hut
+itself by the light of the torch borne by Octave, he added: "Oh, King of
+the Heavens! Thanks be to you!" The Emperor quickly dismounted and
+walking precipitately towards the hut which lay about twenty paces from
+the path, he called back to Octave: "Walk faster! My daughter is there.
+Precede me!"
+
+Gifted with an eye even more piercing than Charles', Octave had
+recognized with a shudder the horse of Vortigern close to Thetralde's
+palfrey. Foreseeing the outburst of fury that the Emperor was about to
+fall into at the spectacle that Octave surmised awaited his aged eyes,
+the Roman resorted to an extreme measure. Affecting to stumble, he
+dropped the torch in the hope of extinguishing it at his feet, as if by
+accident. But Charles quickly stooped down, as quickly raised it and
+rushed forward towards the entrance of the hut. Trembling with fear, the
+young Roman followed closely behind the Emperor. Charles suddenly stood
+still as if petrified at the threshold of the hut, whose interior was
+now brilliantly lighted by the torch in the Emperor's hand. Having also
+dismounted, Amael was enabled, without his steps being heard by
+Charles, to draw nearer, and stood close to him at the very moment that,
+struck with stupor, the Emperor of the Franks stopped, motionless.
+
+Profoundly asleep, and stretched out upon the floor with his unsheathed
+sword beside him, Vortigern barred the entrance to the hut. In order to
+enter it, an intruder would have been compelled to walk over his body
+that lay across the threshold. In the depth of the retreat, stretched on
+a bed of moss and carefully wrapped in the lad's tunic, Thetralde
+enjoyed a slumber as profound as her guardian at the entrance. The
+girl's head and face, charming in their candor, rested on one of her
+arms that lay folded beneath. So deep was the sleep of the two, that
+neither the young girl nor Vortigern was at first awakened by the glare
+of the torch.
+
+Thick drops of perspiration rolled down from the forehead of the Emperor
+of the Franks. The stupor that first seized him at finding his daughter
+in a solitary hut in the company of the young Breton, was soon followed
+by an expression of undefinable agony. Presently the cruel doubts
+concerning the chastity of his youngest daughter made room for hope when
+he noticed the serenity of the slumber of the two children. The Emperor
+gathered additional comfort from the precaution that Vortigern had taken
+in laying himself athwart the entrance, obedient, no doubt, to a thought
+of respectful and chivalrous solicitude.
+
+Thetralde was the first to open her eyes. The glare of the torch fell
+upon her face. She half raised her head; still half asleep, carried her
+hand to her eyes, and sat up. In a second, seeing her father before her,
+she uttered a cry of such sincere joy, her charming features expressed a
+happiness so utterly free from all embarrassment, that, bounding to her
+father's neck, she was pressed by Charles to his heart with delirious
+rapture:
+
+"Oh!" the Emperor exclaimed, "I fear naught, her forehead is free from
+shame."
+
+The words of the enraptured father reached the ears of Amael, who had
+remained motionless behind the Emperor, whose life was soon in no slight
+danger, seeing that, in her first and spontaneous outburst of joy to
+fall on her father's neck, Thetralde had struck Vortigern with her feet
+as she bounded forward. The young Breton, thus awakened with a start,
+his eyes dazzled by the glare of the torch, and his mind still clouded
+with sleep, grasped his sword and jumped up. At the sight of the two men
+at the entrance of the hut, one of them tightly holding Thetralde in his
+arms, the lad imagined that violence was being attempted upon her. He
+seized Charles by the throat with one hand and, raising his sword in the
+other, cried: "I will kill you!" Immediately, however, recognizing the
+father of Thetralde, Vortigern dropped his weapon, rubbed his eyes, and
+exclaimed:
+
+"The Emperor of the Franks!"
+
+"Himself, my lad!" replied the Emperor in a cheerful voice, while he
+again kissed the forehead and head of his daughter with almost frantic
+delight. "The vigor of your clutch proves to me that ill would he have
+fared who should have entertained any evil designs against my little
+girl!"
+
+"We are your enemies, and still you received my grandfather and myself
+with kindness," answered the young Breton ingenuously and without
+lowering his eyes before the penetrating looks that Charles shot at him.
+"I have watched over your daughter--as I should have watched over my own
+sister."
+
+Vortigern emphasized the words 'my own sister' in such a manner that
+Amael, fully sharing the confidence of Charles, whispered at the
+latter's ear:
+
+"I have no doubt of the purity of these children."
+
+"And you here?" exclaimed the Emperor astonished. "Be welcome, my
+esteemed guest!"
+
+"You looked for your daughter--I also set out in search of my grandson."
+
+"And I have found her, the dear child!" exclaimed Charles with ineffable
+tenderness, again and again kissing the forehead of Thetralde. "Oh, how
+I do love her--more than ever before!" And holding the girl close to his
+breast the Emperor moved toward the interior of the hut, and threw
+himself down upon the moss-bench, broken with fatigue. There he seated
+Thetralde upon his knees, and contemplating her with looks of
+unspeakable happiness, said: "Come now, my little one, tell me all about
+your adventure. How did you lose track of the hunt? How did you resign
+yourself to spend the night in this hut?"
+
+"Father," answered the girl, lowering her eyes and hiding her face on
+Charles' breast, "let me collect my thoughts--I want to tell you all
+that happened, absolutely everything, without concealing aught."
+
+After a short interval that followed Thetralde's answer, Vortigern drew
+near Amael, who tenderly pressed him to his heart, while, standing at a
+little distance, the torch in his hand lighting the scene, the young
+Roman, it must be admitted, looked more astonished than enthusiastic at
+the continence of Vortigern.
+
+"Father," Thetralde resumed, raising her head and attaching her candid
+looks upon the Emperor of the Franks, "I must tell you everything. Not
+so? Everything--absolutely everything?"
+
+"Yes, my little darling, without omitting anything." But after a
+second's reflection, Charles said to Octave: "Plant that torch in the
+ground, and watch our horses with this young lad."
+
+The Roman bowed and obeyed; accompanied by Amael's grandson he stepped
+out of the hut.
+
+"What, father, you send Vortigern out?" remarked Thetralde in an accent
+of sweet reproach. "I would on the contrary, have wished him to remain
+near us, in order to confirm or complete my story, my dear father."
+
+"All you tell me, my dear daughter, I shall believe. Speak, speak
+without fear before me and the grandfather of the worthy lad."
+
+"Yesterday," Thetralde began, "I was on the balcony of the palace when
+Vortigern rode into the courtyard. Learning that he came hither as a
+prisoner, so young, and wounded, besides, I immediately took an interest
+in him. When shortly after, he came near being thrown from his horse,
+perhaps even killed, I was so frightened that I uttered a cry of dread.
+But when Hildrude and myself saw that he proved himself an intrepid
+horseman, we threw our nose-gays to him."
+
+"You both told me how you admired the skilfulness of the lad's
+horsemanship, but you said nothing about the throwing of your bouquets.
+Well, let us proceed--continue."
+
+"I certainly was very happy at your return home, good father. Yet, I
+must confess to you, it seems to me that my thoughts turned as much on
+Vortigern as on yourself. All night my sister and I talked about the
+young Breton, about his gracefulness, about his comely face that was at
+once sweet and bold--"
+
+"That is all very well--that is all very well. Let us skip all that, my
+daughter. Let us drop the details concerning the lad's looks."
+
+"Then you object, father, to my telling you all? He made a deep
+impression upon us."
+
+"Let us come to the episode of the chase."
+
+"It was dawn before I fell asleep, but only to dream about Vortigern. We
+saw him again at church. When I was not contemplating his bold and sweet
+face, I was praying for the safety of his soul. After mass, when I
+learned that there was to be a hunting party, my only fear was that he
+might not be one of the party. Judge, then, of my joy, father, when I
+saw him in your retinue. Suddenly his horse took fright and carried him
+off! Before I could reflect I plied the whip upon my palfrey to join
+him. Hildrude followed and tried to pass me. That irritated me. I struck
+her horse on the head. The animal bolted and carried her off in another
+direction. I was alone when I overtook Vortigern. The mist, then the
+rain and thereupon the night fell upon us. We noticed this woodcutter's
+hut and a brasier that was almost extinct. We then said to each other:
+'It is impossible to find our way back, let us spend the night here.'
+Happily we noticed some chestnuts that had dropped on the ground from
+the trees. We gathered them, roasted them under the cinders--but we
+forgot to eat them--"
+
+"Because, I suppose, you were both tired, no doubt--and, in order to
+take rest, you lay down on this moss-bench, and the lad across the
+threshold?"
+
+"Oh, no, no, my father! Before falling asleep we chatted a good deal,
+we disputed a good deal. It was due to our discussion that Vortigern and
+myself forgot all about the chestnuts. Thereupon sleep overtook us and
+we stretched ourselves to rest."
+
+"But what was the subject, my child, of the discussion between you and
+the lad?"
+
+"Alack! I had wicked thoughts--those thoughts were combatted by
+Vortigern with all his might. It was upon that that our dispute ran. But
+I must admit that, after all, he was right. You will never believe me. I
+wanted to flee from Aix-la-Chapelle and go to Brittany with
+Vortigern--to marry him."
+
+"To leave me--my daughter--abandon your father--me, who love you so
+much?"
+
+"Those were the very arguments of Vortigern. 'Thetralde, dost thou think
+well,' he said to me, 'to leave thy father who loves thee? Wouldst thou
+have the regrettable courage to cause him so deep a grief? And as to
+myself, whom, as well as my grandfather, he has treated with kindness,
+should I be thy accomplice? No! No! Moreover, I am here a prisoner on
+parole. To flee would be to disgrace myself. My mother would refuse to
+see me.' 'Thy mother loves thee too much not to pardon thee,' I said to
+Vortigern; 'my father also will pardon me; he is so good! Did he not
+show himself indulgent towards my sisters, who have their lovers as he
+has his mistresses? To love can neither hurt nor injure others. Once
+married, we shall return to my father. Happy at seeing us again, he will
+forget everything else, and we shall live near him as do Eginhard and my
+sister Imma.' But Vortigern, ever inflexible, returned incessantly upon
+his word as a prisoner and the grief that his flight would cause his
+mother and grandfather. His warm tears mingled with mine as he consoled
+and chide me for the child that I was. Finally, after our dispute had
+lasted a long while, and we had wept a good deal, he said to me:
+'Thetralde, it is now late; thou surely must feel fatigued; thou
+shouldst lie down on this bed of moss; I shall lay myself across the
+entrance with my bare sword at my side, to defend thee, if need be.' I
+did begin to feel sleepy; Vortigern covered me with his tunic; I fell
+asleep and was dreaming about him when I was awakened by you, my
+father."
+
+The Emperor of the Franks listened to the naïve recital with a mixture
+of tenderness, apprehension and grief. At its close he heaved a sigh of
+profound relief that seemed to issue from the silent reflection: "What a
+danger did not my daughter escape!" This thought soon dominated all the
+others that crowded to his mind. Charles again embraced Thetralde
+effusively, and said:
+
+"Dear child, your candor charms me. It makes me forget that even for a
+moment you could entertain the thought of running away from your father,
+which would have been a mean thing to do."
+
+"Oh! Vortigern made me renounce the wicked project. And, now, as a
+reward to him, you will be good, you will marry us, will you not,
+father?"
+
+"We shall talk later about that. For the present we must think of
+regaining the pavilion, where you will rest awhile. We shall depart to
+Aix-la-Chapelle. Stay here a moment I have a few words to exchange with
+this good old man."
+
+Charles stepped out of the hut with Amael, and as soon as they were a
+few paces away, he turned towards the aged Breton with a radiant face
+on which, however, deep concern was depicted:
+
+"Your grandson is a loyal lad; yours is a family of worthy and brave
+people. You saved my grandfather's life; your grandson has respected the
+honor of my daughter. I know but too well the dangers that lie, at the
+age of these children, in the wake of the first impulse of love. Had
+Vortigern yielded, he would have had to pay for it with his life. I am
+happy and by far prefer to praise than to punish."
+
+"Charles, when a few hours ago I expressed to you my uneasiness
+concerning Vortigern's absence, you answered me: 'Good! He will have run
+across some pretty woodcutter's daughter. Love is meet for his years.
+You do not mean to make a monk of the lad?' What, now, if he had treated
+your daughter like a woodcutter's child?"
+
+"By the King of the Heavens! Vortigern would not have left the hut
+alive!"
+
+"Accordingly, it is permissible to dishonor the daughter of a slave, and
+yet shall the dishonor of the daughter of an emperor be punished with
+death? Both are the children of God, alike in His eyes. Why the
+difference in your mind?"
+
+"Old man, these words are senseless!"
+
+"You pretend to be a Christian, and you treat us as pagans! My grandson
+has conducted himself like an honest man; that is all. Honor is dear to
+us Gauls of old Armorica, whose device is: _Never did Breton commit
+treason._ Will you render me a favor? I shall be eternally grateful to
+you."
+
+"Speak! What do you wish of Charles?"
+
+"A short while ago you seemed struck with the beauty of a poor slave
+girl. You mean to make her one of your concubines. Be magnanimous
+towards the unhappy creature; do not corrupt her; render their freedom
+to her and her family; give those people the means to live industriously
+and honorably."
+
+"It shall be so, by the faith of Charles; I promise you. Besides, I
+consent to withdraw my troops from your country, provided you pledge to
+me your faith as a Breton that, during my life, you will not make any
+incursions beyond your own frontiers. Give me your hand, Amael--your
+loyal hand in sign of acceptance."
+
+"Here it is, Charles," promptly answered Amael, grasping the hand
+proffered by the Emperor. "Let it be the hand of a traitor, and that it
+fall under the axe if our people break the promise! We shall live at
+peace with you. If your descendants respect our liberties, we shall live
+at peace with them."
+
+"Amael, it is sworn!"
+
+"Charles, it is accepted and sworn!"
+
+"Instead of returning to Aix-la-Chapelle, you and your grandson shall
+spend the night in the pavilion of the forest. To-morrow, at early
+daybreak, I shall have your baggage forwarded to you, together with an
+escort, charged to accompany you as far as the frontiers of Armorica.
+You shall depart without delay."
+
+"Your directions will be followed to the letter."
+
+"I shall now return to the pavilion alone with my daughter. I shall tell
+my courtiers that I found her in the hut. Alack! the calumnies of the
+court are cruel. People will not believe in the innocence of Thetralde,
+and if, besides, they should learn that she spent a part of the night
+with your grandson in that obscure retreat, they will take for granted
+all that they now impute to her sisters. Oh! My father's heart bleeds
+strangely. I have loved my daughters too much. I have been too indulgent
+towards them! And then also, my continuous wars beyond my own kingdom,
+together with the affairs of state, have prevented me from watching over
+my children. And yet, during my absence, I always left them in the
+charge of priests. Neither were they left idle; they embroidered
+chasubles for the bishops! But, it seems that our Lord God, who has ever
+and otherwise stood at my side, has willed it so, that I be struck in my
+family. His will be done! I am an unhappy father!" Charles thereupon
+called to the Roman:
+
+"Octave, nobody--do you understand me, nobody--must know that my
+daughter spent a part of the night in this hut with that young man. Evil
+tongues do not spare even the chastest and most admirable souls. The
+secret of this night is known only by me, my daughter, and these two
+Bretons. I am as certain of their discretion as of my own and
+Thetralde's. You are lost if but a word of this adventure circulates at
+court. It is from you alone that it can have proceeded. If, on the
+contrary, you help me to keep the secret, you may rely upon increasing
+favors from me."
+
+"August Emperor, I shall carry that secret with me into my grave."
+
+"I rely upon it. Fetch me my horse and my daughter's. You are to
+accompany us to the hunting pavilion, and thence to Aix-la-Chapelle. I
+will place you in command of the escort that I give these two hostages
+to return to their own country. I shall furnish you with an order to the
+commander of my army in Brittany. You will start to-morrow, early, with
+the escort to the pavilion of the forest, and you will thence depart for
+Armorica."
+
+Octave bowed, and the Emperor proceeded, addressing Amael:
+
+"The moon has risen. It sheds sufficient light upon the route. Jump upon
+your horse, with your grandson. Follow this avenue of trees until you
+reach a clearing. Wait there. You will shortly be sent for. I shall
+despatch my messengers to take you to the pavilion, where you are to
+stay until your departure early to-morrow morning. And now, Adieu!"
+
+Amael returned to his grandson, whom he found in a deep study, seated on
+the stump of a tree that bordered the route. The lad was silently
+weeping with his face hidden in his hands, and heard not the steps of
+his grandfather approaching him.
+
+"Come, my boy," said Amael to him in a mild and grave voice. "Let us to
+horse, and depart."
+
+"Depart!" exclaimed Vortigern, with a tremor, rising impetuously to his
+feet and wiping with his hand the tears that moistened his face.
+
+"Yes, my boy! To-morrow we start for Brittany, where you will see again
+your mother and sister. The nobility of your conduct has borne its
+fruit. We are free. Charles recalls his troops from Brittany."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Shortly after our return home from Aix-la-Chapelle, my grandfather,
+Amael, wrote the above narrative, which I have faithfully joined to the
+preceding ones of our family. Myself, Vortigern, buried my grandfather
+not long after at the ripe age of one hundred and five years, shortly
+after my own marriage with the loving Josseline. Charles the Great died
+at Aix-la-Chapelle in the year 814.
+
+
+
+
+PART II.
+
+THE CONQUEST OF BRITTANY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+IN THE BLACK MOUNTAINS.
+
+
+In the year 818, seven years after Amael and his grandson Vortigern left
+the court of Charles, the Emperor of the Franks, to return to their home
+in Brittany, three riders, accompanied by a footman, were one evening
+painfully climbing one of the steep hills of the ridge of the Black
+Mountains, that raise their rugged ribs to the southwest of Armorica.
+When, having reached the top of the rocky pile over which the path wound
+its way, the travelers looked below, they saw at their feet a long chain
+of plains and hillocks, some covered with rye and wheat ready for the
+harvesters, others running northward like vast carpets of heather. Here
+and yonder, vast moors also were perceived stretching out as far as the
+eye could follow. A few straggling villages, reached by an avenue of
+trees, raised the roofs of their houses in the midst of impassible bogs
+that served for natural defences. The panorama was enlivened by herds of
+black sheep that browsed over the ruddy heath or the green valleys,
+watered by innumerable running streams. Among the green were also seen
+steers and cows, and especially a large number of horses of the Breton
+stock, strong for the plow, fiery in war.
+
+The three riders, preceded by the footman, now proceeded to descend the
+further slope of the rugged hill. One of the three, clad in
+ecclesiastical robes, was Witchaire, considered one of the richest
+abbots of Gaul. The vast lands of his almost royal abbey bordered on the
+frontiers of Armorica. His two companions, on horseback like himself,
+were monks belonging to his dependency, and both wore the garb of the
+religious Order of St. Benoit. The two monks rode behind the abbot at a
+little distance, leading between them a packsaddle mule loaded with the
+baggage of their superior, a man of short stature, sharp eye, and a
+smile that was at times pious, at other times cunning. The mountain
+guide, a robust, thick-set man in the vigor of life, wore the antique
+costume of the Breton Gauls--wide breeches of cloth held at the waist by
+a leather belt, a jacket of wool, and, hanging from his shoulders on the
+same side with his wallet, a cloak of goat-skin, although the season was
+summer. His hair, only partly covered with a woolen cap, fell over his
+shoulders. From time to time he leaned upon his _pen-bas_, a long staff
+made of holly and terminating in a crook.
+
+The burning August sun, now at its hottest, darted its rays upon the
+guide, the two monks and Abbot Witchaire. Reining in his horse, the
+latter said to the guide:
+
+"The heat is suffocating; these granite rocks radiate it upon us as hot
+as if they issued from a furnace; our mounts are exhausted. I decry
+yonder, at our feet, a thick forest; could you not lead us to it? We
+could then take rest in the shade."
+
+Karouer, the guide, shook his head, and answered, pointing with his
+_pen-bas_ in the direction of the dense woods: "To reach them we would
+have to make a leap of two hundred feet, or a circuit of nearly three
+leagues over the mountains. Which shall it be?"
+
+"Let us, then, pursue our route, my trusty guide. But tell us how long
+will it take us to arrive in the valley of Lokfern?"
+
+"Look yonder, below, away below, close to the horizon. Do you see the
+last of those bluish crests? That is the Menez-c'Hom, the highest peak
+of the Black Mountains. The other peak towards the west, and lying
+somewhat nearer, is Lach-Renan. It is between those two peaks that lies
+the valley of Lokfern, where Morvan, the husbandman and Chief of
+Brittany lives."
+
+"Are you certain that he will be at his farm-house?"
+
+"A husbandman always returns to his farm-house after sunset. We shall
+find him there."
+
+"Do you know Morvan personally?"
+
+"I am of his tribe. I fought under him at the time of our last struggles
+against the Franks, when Charles, the Emperor, lived."
+
+"Is this Morvan married, do you know?"
+
+"His wife Noblede is the worthy spouse of Morvan. She is of the stock of
+Joel. That says everything. We honor and venerate her."
+
+"Who is that Joel, whom you mentioned?"
+
+"One of the worthiest men, whose memory Armorica has preserved green.
+His daughter, Hena, the Virgin of the Isle of Sen, offered her own life
+in sacrifice for the safety of Gaul when the Romans invaded these
+parts."
+
+"I have been told that your people apprehend an invasion of the Franks
+in Brittany, and that you are making ready for a declaration of war from
+Louis the Pious, son of the great Charles."
+
+"Have you seen any preparations for war since you crossed our frontier?"
+
+"I have seen the husbandmen in the fields, the shepherds leading their
+flocks, the cities open and tranquil. But it is known that in your
+country, woodmen, husbandmen, shepherds and town folks transform
+themselves into soldiers at a moment's notice."
+
+"Yes, when our country is threatened with invasion."
+
+"And do you apprehend such an invasion?"
+
+Karouer looked at the abbot fixedly, smiled sarcastically, made no
+answer, whistled, and presently broke out into a Breton song,
+mechanically whirling his _pen-bas_ as he strode rapidly forward in the
+lead of the three monks.
+
+Night drew on. Karouer and the dignitaries whom he guided, having been
+all day on the march, were now approaching one of the highest points on
+the mountain path that they had been following, when, struck by an
+unexpected spectacle, Witchaire suddenly reined in his horse.
+
+The sight that took the abbot by surprise was, indeed, startling. A
+flame, hardly distinguishable by reason of its great distance, and yet
+perceptible on the horizon, whose outlines the dusk had not yet wholly
+blotted out, had barely arrested his attention, when, almost
+instantaneously, similar tongues of fire gradually shot up from the
+distant tops of the long chain of the Black Mountains. The fires gained
+in brilliancy and size in the measure that they broke out nearer and
+nearer to the spot where the abbot stood. Suddenly, only twenty paces
+away from him, the startled prelate perceived a bluish gleam through a
+dense smoke. The gleam speedily changed into a brilliant flame, that,
+shooting upwards toward the starry sky, spread a light so bright that
+the abbot, his monks, his guide, the rocks round about and a good
+portion of the crag of the mountain stood illumined as if at noon. A few
+minutes later similar bonfires continued to be kindled from hill to
+hill, tracing back, as it seemed, the route that the travelers had left
+behind, and losing themselves in the distance in the evening haze. The
+abbot remained mute with stupefaction. Karouer emitted three times a
+gutteral and loud cry resembling that of a night bird. A similar cry,
+proceeding from behind the plateau of rocks where the nearest bonfire
+was burning, responded to the signal from Karouer.
+
+"What fires are these that are springing up from hill-top to hill-top?"
+the abbot inquired with intense curiosity the moment he recovered from
+his astonishment. "It must be some signal."
+
+"At this moment," answered Karouer, "similar fires are burning from all
+the hill-tops of Armorica, from the mountains of Arres to the Black
+Mountains and the ocean."
+
+"But to what purpose?"
+
+As was his wont, Karouer made no answer to such pointed interrogatories,
+but striking up some Breton song, quickened his steps, while he whirled
+his _pen-bas_ in the air.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE BRETON CHIEF.
+
+
+The home of Morvan, the husbandman, who was chosen Chief of the Chiefs
+of Brittany, was located about the middle of the valley of Lokfern, and
+nestled among the last spurs of the Black Mountains. A strong system of
+palisades, constructed of tough trunks of oak fastened together by means
+of stout cross-beams, and raised on the near side of deep ditches,
+defended the approaches of the farm-house. Outside of the fortified
+enclosure, a forest of centenarian oaks extended to the north and east;
+to the south, green meadows sloped gently towards the windings of a
+swift running river that was bordered with beeches and alders.
+
+The house of Morvan, its contiguous barns, kennels and stables, had the
+rough exterior of the Gallic structures of olden days. A sort of rustic
+porch shaded the main entrance to the house. Under this porch, and
+enjoying the close of the delightful summer day, were Noblede, the
+spouse of Morvan, and Josseline, the young wife of Vortigern. The
+latter, a radiant woman of smiling beauty, was suckling her latest born,
+with her other two children, Ewrag and Rosneven, respectively four and
+five years of age, at her side. Caswallan, a Christian druid, an aged
+man of venerable appearance, whose beard vied in whiteness with his long
+robe, smiled tenderly upon little Ewrag, whom he held on his knees.
+Noblede, Morvan's wife and sister of Vortigern, now about thirty years
+of age, was a woman of rare comeliness, although her features bore the
+stamp of a rooted sadness. Ten years a wife, Noblede had not yet tasted
+the sweets of motherhood. Her grave aspect and her high stature recalled
+those matrons, who, in the days of Gaul's independence, sat loyally by
+the side of their husbands at the supreme councils of the nation.[C]
+Noblede and Josseline were spinning, while the other women and daughters
+of Morvan's household busied themselves with the preparations for the
+evening meal, or in the other domestic occupations, such as replenishing
+with forage the stalls that the cattle were to find ready upon their
+return from the fields. The Christian druid Caswallan, with Ewrag, the
+second child of the blonde Josseline, on his knees, had just finished
+making the boy recite his lesson in religion under the following
+symbolic forms:
+
+"White child of the druid, answer me, what shall I tell you?"
+
+"Tell me the parts of the number three," the child would answer, "make
+them known to me, that I may learn them to-day."
+
+"There are three parts of the world--three beginnings and three ends to
+man as to the oak--three celestial kingdoms, fruits of gold, brilliant
+flowers and little children who laugh. These three kingdoms, where the
+fruits of gold, the brilliant flowers and the children who laugh are
+found, my little Ewrag, are the worlds in which those, who in this world
+have performed pure and celestial acts, will be successively born again
+and will continue to live with ever increasing happiness. Now, what must
+we be in order to perform such acts?"
+
+"We must be wise, good and just," the child would reply. "Furthermore
+death must not be feared, because we are born again and again, from
+world to world with an ever renewed body. We must love Brittany like a
+tender mother--and bravely defend her against her enemies."
+
+"Yes, my child," broke in Noblede, drawing her brother's child to
+herself. "Always remember those sacred words: 'To love and defend
+Brittany';" and Morvan's wife tenderly embraced Ewrag.
+
+"Mother! mother!" cried up little Rosneven, joyfully clapping his hands
+and rushing out of the porch followed by his brother Ewrag: "Here is
+father!"
+
+Caswallan, Noblede and Josseline rose at the gladsome cries of the child
+and walked out towards two large wagons heavily laden with golden
+sheaves, and drawn by a yoke of oxen.
+
+Morvan and Vortigern were seated in front of one of the wagons
+surrounded by a considerable number of men and lads belonging to the
+household, or to the tribe of the Chief of the Chiefs, carrying in their
+hands the sickles, the forks and the rakes used by the harvesters. At a
+little distance behind them came the shepherds with their flocks whose
+bells were heard clinking from the distance. Morvan, in the vigor of
+life, robust and thick-set, like most of the inhabitants of the Black
+Mountains, wore their rustic garb--wide breeches of coarse white
+material, and a linen shirt that exposed his sunburnt chest and neck.
+His long hair, auburn like his thick beard, framed his manly face. His
+forehead was high; his eyes intrepid and piercing. As to Vortigern, the
+maturer gravity of manhood, of husband and father, had succeeded the
+flower of youth. His looks were expressive of sweet delight at the sight
+of the two boys who had ran out to meet him. He jumped down from the
+wagon and embraced them affectionately while he looked for his wife and
+sister, who, accompanied by Caswallan, were not long in joining him.
+
+"Dear wife, the harvest will be plentiful," said Morvan to Noblede, and
+pointing to the overloaded wagons, he added: "Have you ever seen more
+beautiful wheat, or more golden sheaves? Look at them and wonder!"
+
+"Morvan," put in Josseline, "you are this year harvesting earlier than
+customary. We, of the region of Karnak would leave our wheat to ripen on
+the stalk fully two weeks longer. Not so, Vortigern?"
+
+"No, my sweet Josseline," answered her husband, "I shall follow Morvan's
+example. We shall return home to-morrow, so as to start taking in the
+harvest as soon as possible."
+
+"I am going to furnish you with still more matter for astonishment,"
+Morvan proceeded. "Instead of leaving the sheaves in the barn that the
+grain may ripen, this wheat that you see there, and that was cropped
+only to-day, will be threshed this very night. Vortigern and myself will
+not be the only ones to ply the flails on the threshing-floor of the
+barn. So, then, Noblede, let us have supper early, and then to work!"
+
+"What, Morvan!" exclaimed Josseline, "after this tiring day's work,
+spent in gathering in the crop, do you and Vortigern mean to spend the
+night at work, and threshing, at that?"
+
+"It will be a cheerful night, my Josseline," put in Vortigern. "While
+we shall be threshing the wheat, you will sing us some songs, Caswallan
+will recite to us some old legend, and we shall stave in a barrel of
+hydromel to cheer the laborers who have come to join us. Work goes hand
+in hand with pleasure."
+
+"Vortigern," the Christian druid said, smiling, "do you, perchance,
+think that my arms are so much enfeebled by old age that I could no
+longer wield a flail? I mean to help you at work."
+
+"And we?" put in Josseline, laughing merrily, "we, the daughters and
+wives of the field-laborers, did we, perchance, lose the skill of
+carrying the wheat to the threshing-floor, or of bagging the grain?"
+
+"And we?" Ewrag and his brother Rosneven cried in turn, "could not we
+also carry a stalk, six stalks, twenty stalks?"
+
+"Oh! you are brave boys, my little ones," exclaimed Vortigern, embracing
+his children, while Morvan said to his wife:
+
+"Noblede, do not forget to have the guest's chamber in order and
+supplied with food."
+
+"Do you expect any guests, Morvan?" inquired Josseline, with great
+curiosity. "They will be welcome; they will assist us at the threshing
+to-night."
+
+"My beloved Josseline," answered the Chief of the Chiefs, smiling, "the
+guests whom I expect eat the choicest of wheat, but never take the
+trouble of either sowing or harvesting. They belong to a class of people
+who live on the fat of the land."
+
+"The guest's chamber is always ready," replied Noblede; "the floor is
+strewn with fresh leaves. Alack! No one occupied it since it was last
+occupied by Amael."
+
+"Worthy grandfather!" exclaimed Vortigern with a sigh.
+
+"He came to us only to languish a few weeks and pass away."
+
+"May his memory be blessed, as was his life," said Josseline. "I knew
+him only a very short while, but I loved and venerated him like my
+father."
+
+The family of Morvan, together with the rest of his tribe who cultivated
+his lands in common with himself, men, women and children, about thirty
+in all, presently sat down to a long table, placed in a large hall that
+served at once for kitchen, refectory and a place of assembly during the
+long nights of the winter. From the walls hung weapons of war and of the
+hunt, fishing nets, bridles and horse saddles. Although it was
+midsummer, such was the coolness of that region of woods and mountains,
+that the heat of the hearth, before which the meats for the supper were
+broiled, felt decidedly comfortable to the harvesters. Its flamboyant
+light mingled with that cast by the torches of resinous wood, that were
+fastened in iron clamps along the four walls. After the industrious
+group had finished their repast, Morvan was the first to rise.
+
+"And now, my boys, to work! The night is clear, we shall thresh the
+wheat on the outside floor. Two or three torches planted between the
+stones on the edge of the well will give us light until the moon rises.
+We shall be through with our task by one o'clock in the morning, we
+shall sleep until daybreak, and we shall then return to the fields and
+finish taking in the crop."
+
+The torches, placed at Morvan's orders around the edge of the well, cast
+their bright light upon a portion of the yard and buildings that were
+within the fortified enclosure. Several men, the women and the children,
+took a hand in unloading the wagons, while those who were to do the
+threshing, Morvan, Vortigern and the old Caswallan among them, stood
+waiting for the grain to be brought to them, their flails in their
+hands, having for the sake of comfort, stripped themselves of all their
+superfluous clothing and keeping only their breeches and shirts on. The
+first bundles of grain were placed in the center of the floor, whereupon
+the rapid rhythm of the flails, vigorously wielded by robust and
+experienced arms, resounded through the air. Apprehending a speedy war,
+the Bretons were hastening to take in their crops and place them under
+cover in order to save them from the ravages of the enemy, as well as to
+deprive these of food. The grains were to be concealed in underground
+caves covered with earth. Morvan, whose forehead began to be moistened
+with perspiration, said, while rapidly handling the flail:
+
+"Caswallan, you promised us a song. Take a little rest and sing. It will
+inspire us in our work."
+
+The Christian druid sang "Lez-Breiz," an old national song that ever
+sounded sweet on the ears of the Bretons. It began thus:
+
+ "Between a Frankish warrior and Lez-Breiz
+ A combat was arranged;
+ It was arranged with due formalities.--
+ May God give the victory to the Breton,
+ And gladsome tidings to his county.--
+ That day Lez-Breiz said to his young attendant:
+ Rise, furbish up my handsome casque; my lance and my sword;
+ I mean to redden them in the blood of the Franks.--
+ I shall make them jump this day!"
+
+"Old Caswallan," said one of the laborers when the druid had finished
+the long and inspiring strain that warmed the blood of his hearers with
+martial ardor, "let the accursed Franks come again, and we shall say,
+like Lez-Breiz: 'With the aid of our two arms, let us make them jump
+again to-day'--"
+
+A furious barking of the shepherd dogs, that for some little time had
+been emitting low and intermittent growls, interrupted at this moment
+the remarks of the laborers, and all turned their eyes towards the gate
+of the enclosure, whither the dogs had precipitated themselves
+furiously.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+ABBOT AND BRETON.
+
+
+The strangers whose approach the dogs announced were Abbot Witchaire,
+his two monks and his guide Karouer. Preceded by the guide, who pacified
+the alarm of the watchful animals, the clerical cavalcade rode into the
+enclosure, while Karouer informed the abbot:
+
+"This is the house of Morvan. We have arrived at our destination. You
+may now dismount."
+
+"What are those torches yonder for?" asked the prelate descending from
+his horse, the reins of which he threw over to one of his monks. "What
+is that muffled sound I hear?"
+
+"It is the sound of the flails. Doubtlessly Morvan is threshing the
+grain that he has harvested. Come, I shall lead you to him."
+
+Abbot Witchaire and his guide approached the group of laborers, upon
+whom the torches cast a clear light. Morvan, intently at work, and the
+noise of the flails deafening the sound of the steps and voices of the
+new arrivals, failed to hear them. Not until Karouer had tapped the
+Chief of the Chiefs upon the shoulder in order to draw the latter's
+attention to him, did Morvan turn to look. Recognizing Karouer, the
+Chief of the Chiefs stopped a moment and said:
+
+"Oh! Is that you, Karouer? What tidings do you bring from our man?"
+
+"I bring him to you in person," answered Karouer, pointing to his
+traveling companion. "He stands before you in flesh and bone."
+
+"Are you the Abbot Witchaire?" asked Morvan, slightly out of breath with
+the heavy work that he had been performing; and crossing his robust arms
+over the handle of his flail, he added: "As I expected your visit, I
+have had supper prepared for you. Come to table."
+
+"I prefer first to speak to you."
+
+"Noblede," said Morvan, wiping the perspiration that inundated his
+forehead with the back of his hand, "a torch, my dear wife!" And turning
+to the abbot: "Follow me."
+
+Taking up one of the torches that were stuck at the edge of the well,
+Noblede preceded her husband and Abbot Witchaire to the chamber that was
+reserved for guests. Two large beds stood ready, as also a big table
+furnished with cold meats, milk, bread and fruit. After placing the
+torch into one of the iron clamps fastened in the wall, Noblede was
+about to withdraw when Morvan said to her in a significant tone:
+
+"Dear wife, come and kiss me good night when the threshing is done."
+
+A look from Noblede informed her husband that he was understood, and she
+stepped out of the guest's chamber where Morvan remained alone with
+Abbot Witchaire. The abbot immediately addressed the Chief of the
+Chiefs:
+
+"Morvan, I greet you. I am the bearer to you of a message from the King
+of the Franks, Louis the Pious, son of Charles the Great."
+
+"And what is that message?"
+
+"It is couched in but few words:--The Bretons occupy a province of the
+Empire of the King of the Franks, and refuse to pay him tribute in
+homage to his sovereignty. Besides, the Breton clergy, generally
+infected with a leaven of old druidic idolatry, denies the supremacy of
+the Archbishop of Tours. Such are the consequences of that regrettable
+heresy, of which Lambert, Count of Nantes, wrote to King Louis the Pious
+as follows: 'The Breton nation is proud and indomitable; all that there
+is Christian about them is the name; as to the Christian faith, its cult
+and works, they would be searched for in vain in Brittany.' Wishing to
+put an end to a rebellion so outrageous both to the Catholic Church and
+the royal authority, King Louis the Pious orders the Breton people to
+pay the tribute that they owe to the sovereignty of the Frankish Empire,
+and to submit themselves to the apostolic decisions of the Archbishop of
+Tours. In case of failure to comply, King Louis the Pious will, by means
+of his invincible arms, ruin the country and compel the obedience of the
+Breton people."
+
+"Abbot Witchaire," Morvan answered after a few moments' reflection,
+"Amael, the grandfather of Vortigern, my wife's brother, entered into an
+agreement with the Emperor Charles to the effect that, provided we held
+ourselves within our own borders, there never would be any war between
+us and the Franks. We kept our promise, so did Charles. His son, whom
+you call 'The Pious,' has not troubled us until now. If to-day he
+demands tribute from us, he violates the provisions of the compact."
+
+"Louis the Pious is King by divine right, sovereign master of Gaul.
+Brittany is part of Gaul, consequently Brittany belongs to him and must
+pay him tribute."
+
+"We will pay tribute to no king. As to what regards the clergy, I have
+this to say to you: Before their arrival in Brittany the country never
+was invaded. Since a century ago, all that has changed. It was to be
+expected. Whoever sees the black robe of a priest, soon sees the glint
+of a Frank's sword."
+
+"You speak truly. The Catholic priest is everywhere the precursor of
+royalty."
+
+"We now have but too many of these precursors. Despite their continuous
+quarrels with the Archbishop of Tours, the good priests are rare, the
+bad ones numerous. At the time of the last war, several of your
+churchmen acted as guides to the Franks, while others seduced some of
+our tribes into treason by making them believe that to resist your kings
+was to incur the anger of heaven. Despite such acts of treason, we
+defended our liberty then; we will defend it again both against the
+machinations of the clergy and the swords of the Franks."
+
+"Morvan, you look like a sensible man. Is it proposed to enslave you?
+No! To dispossess you of your lands? No! What is it that Louis the Pious
+demands? Merely that you pay him tribute in homage to his sovereignty.
+Nothing more!"
+
+"That is too much--and it is iniquitous!"
+
+"Consider the frightful misfortunes to which Brittany will expose
+herself if she refuses to acknowledge the sovereignty of Louis the
+Pious. Can you prefer to see your fields laid waste, your crops
+destroyed, your cattle led away, your own house torn down, your fellows
+reduced to slavery--can you prefer that to the voluntary payment of a
+few gold sous contributed by you into the treasury of the King of the
+Franks?"
+
+"I certainly would prefer to pay even twenty gold sous, rather than be
+ruined."
+
+"It is not merely your own earthly possessions that are at stake. You
+have a wife, a family, friends. Would you, out of vain pride, expose so
+many beings, dear to your heart, to the horrible dangers of war, of a
+war of extermination, of a war without mercy, all the more when, as you
+must admit, you can no longer find in the Breton people the indomitable
+spirit that once was its distinctive feature?"
+
+"No," answered Morvan with a somber and pensive mien, his elbows resting
+on his knees and his forehead hidden in his hands; "no, the Breton
+people are no longer what they once were."
+
+"To my mind, the change is one of the triumphs of the Catholic Church.
+In your eyes it is an evil. But, if evil it be, it is a fact, and you
+are bound to recognize it. Brittany, once invincible, has been several
+times invaded by the Franks during the last century. What has happened
+before will happen again. And yet, notwithstanding the mistrust that you
+entertain of your own powers of resistance, notwithstanding the
+certainty of succumbing, could you still wish to engage in the struggle
+in lieu of paying a tribute that curtails in nothing, either your own
+liberty or that of your people?"
+
+Shaken by the insidious arguments of the priest, Morvan remained silent
+for a moment; after a short struggle with himself, he asked: "How high
+will be the tribute that your King demands?"
+
+Witchaire thrilled with joy at Morvan's question. He concluded the
+Breton had decided in favor of base submission. At that juncture Noblede
+entered the apartment to give her husband the good-night kiss. At sight
+of her the Breton blushed. He allowed his wife to approach him without
+affectionately advancing to meet her, as was his wont. The Breton woman
+almost guessed the cause of the embarrassed manner of Morvan, and of the
+triumphant looks of the Frankish abbot. Concealing her grief, the woman
+walked to her husband, who remained seated, and kissed his hand. A
+tremor shook the Breton chief's frame; his will, shaken for a moment,
+regained its own command; he leaped up and passionately clasped his wife
+to his breast. Happy and proud at feeling the throbbing of her own heart
+answered by her husband's, the Gallic woman cried, casting a look of
+contempt at the priest:
+
+"Whence comes this stranger? What does he want? Is he a messenger of
+peace or of war? Race of priests, race of vipers."
+
+"This monk is sent by the King of the Franks," answered the Breton
+chief; "I do not yet know whether he brings peace or war."
+
+Noblede looked at her husband with increasing astonishment, when the
+abbot, considering the moment favorable to obtain the desired answer
+from Morvan, said:
+
+"I am to return immediately. What answer shall I carry to Louis the
+Pious?"
+
+"You cannot resume your journey without taking some rest," Noblede
+hastened to observe, while, with her eyes, she interrogated her husband,
+who seemed to have relapsed into incertitude. "It will be time enough to
+depart early in the morning. Remain here over night to recover your
+strength."
+
+"No, no!" exclaimed the abbot with impatience, fearing the influence of
+the Gallic woman upon her husband. "I return immediately. Shall I take
+to Louis the Pious words of peace or of war? I must have a categoric
+answer."
+
+The Breton chief, however, rose from his seat, and walking towards the
+door of the apartment answered Witchaire:
+
+"I shall use the few remaining hours of the night to think the matter
+over; to-morrow you will have my answer." Saying this, and despite the
+insistence of the abbot upon an immediate answer, Morvan left the
+guest's room, accompanied by Noblede.
+
+A few minutes later, Morvan, his wife, Vortigern and Caswallan,
+assembled at a secluded spot, under the spreading branches of a tall oak
+tree not far from the house, to consider the subject of Abbot
+Witchaire's errand to Brittany.
+
+"What does this messenger of the King of the Franks want?" asked
+Vortigern of Morvan.
+
+"If we consent to pay tribute to Louis the Pious and to recognize him as
+our sovereign, we shall escape an implacable war. I know not what answer
+to make. I hesitate before the prospect of the disasters that will
+attend a new struggle--the massacres, the fires."
+
+"Hesitate! Yield to threats!"
+
+"Brother," answered Morvan with deep sadness, "the Breton people are no
+longer what they once were."
+
+"You are right!" put in Caswallan. "The breath of the Catholic Church,
+so deadly to the freedom of the people, has passed over this unhappy
+country also. The patriotism of a large number of our tribes has cooled.
+But, on the other hand, should you consent to submit to a shameful
+peace, then Brittany will be peopled with slaves before a century shall
+have rolled away."
+
+"Brother," added Vortigern, "would you yield to threats, instead of
+reviving the spirit of Brittany in a sacred war against the foreigner?
+That would be to debase ourselves forever! To-day we would pay tribute
+to the king of the Franks, in order to avoid a war; to-morrow we would
+have to yield to him one-half of our patrimony, in order that he may
+allow us to retain the rest; after that we would have to submit to
+slavery with all its degradation and wretchedness, in order to be
+allowed to preserve our lives. The chain will have been riveted to our
+limbs, and our children will have to drag it during all the centuries to
+come!"
+
+"Unhappy Brittany!" exclaimed Noblede. "Have we fallen so low as to
+begin to measure the length of our chains? Look at these three brave,
+wise and tried men, wasting their time in discussing the insolence of a
+Frankish king! There is but one word you can answer with--WAR! Oh,
+degenerate Gauls! Eight centuries ago, Caesar, the greatest captain of
+the world, and at the head of a formidable army, also sent messengers to
+summon Brittany to pay him tribute. The Roman messengers were answered
+with a beating, and chased with contempt out of the city of Vannes. That
+same evening, Hena, our ancestress, offered her blood to Hesus for the
+deliverance of Gaul, and the cry of war resounded from one end of the
+country to the other! Albinik the sailor, together with his wife Meroë,
+performed a journey of more than twenty leagues across the most fertile
+regions of Gaul, but then burnt down by a conflagration that the people
+themselves had kindled. Caesar saw before him only a waste of
+smouldering ruins, and on the day of the battle of Vannes our whole
+family--women and young girls, children and old men--fought or died like
+heroes! Oh! These ancestors of ours worried their heads little about the
+'dangers of battle'! To live free or die--such was their simple faith,
+and they sealed it with their blood, and winged their flight to those
+unknown worlds where they continue to live!"
+
+Noblede was addressing Morvan, Vortigern and Caswallan in these terms,
+when the abbot, who had left his apartment and inquired after Morvan
+from the people about the house, approached the oak under which the
+Breton family was in council. Although the moon was shining in all her
+splendor, the first glimmerings of the dawn, always early in the end of
+August, already began to crimson the horizon.
+
+"Morvan," said Abbot Witchaire, "day is about to dawn. I can wait no
+longer. What is your answer to the messenger of Louis the Pious?"
+
+"Priest, my answer will not burden your memory: RETURN AND TELL THE KING
+THAT WE WILL PAY HIM TRIBUTE--IN IRON."
+
+"You want war! Very well, you shall have it without mercy or pity!"
+cried the abbot furiously, and leaping on his horse which the monks held
+ready for him he added, turning again to the Chief of the Chiefs:
+"Brittany will be laid waste with fire and sword! Not a house will be
+left standing! The last day of this people has arrived!"
+
+As the priest uttered these words, his gestures seemed to call down
+curses and anathemas upon the Breton chief. Angrily putting the spurs to
+his horse and followed by the two monks, the prelate rode rapidly away.
+
+The abbot had hardly been a quarter of an hour on the road, when he
+heard the gallop of an approaching horse behind him. Turning, he saw a
+rider coming towards him at full speed. It was Vortigern. The abbot drew
+in his reins, yielding to a last ray of hope. "May your coming be
+propitious. Morvan regrets, I hope, the insensate resolution that he
+took?"
+
+"Morvan regrets that in your hurry you and your two monks should have
+departed without a guide. You might easily lose your way in our
+mountains. I am to accompany you as far as the city of Guenhek. There I
+shall furnish you with a safe guide for the rest of the journey; he will
+take you to our frontiers."
+
+"Young man, you are, I am told, the brother of Morvan's wife. I conjure
+you, in the name of the safety of Brittany, to endeavor to change the
+insensate and fatal resolution of this man who happens to be the chief
+of your nation."
+
+"Monk, the fires lighted last night on our mountains, and which, no
+doubt, you must have seen, were the signals of alarm, given to our
+tribes to prepare for war. Your King wants war--let his will be done.
+But, now, answer me a question. You come from the court at
+Aix-la-Chapelle. Could you tell me what has become of the daughters of
+the Emperor Charles?"
+
+The abbot cast a look of surprise at Vortigern: "What is it to you what
+may have become of the Emperor's daughters?"
+
+"It is now about eight years ago that I accompanied my grandfather to
+Aix-la-Chapelle. I there saw the daughters of Charles. That is the
+reason for my curiosity concerning them."
+
+"The daughters of Charles have been consigned to nunneries by order of
+their brother, Louis the Pious,"[D] was the sententious answer of
+Witchaire. "May they, by dint of repentance, merit the pardon of heaven
+for their past and abominable libertinage."
+
+"And Thetralde, the youngest of Charles' daughters, did she share the
+fate of her sisters?"
+
+"Thetralde died long ago."
+
+"She died!" exclaimed Vortigern, unable to conceal his emotion. "Poor
+child! So beautiful--and to die so young!"
+
+"She, at least, never gave Charles cause to blush."
+
+"And what was the cause of the death of that child? Could you tell me?"
+
+"It is not known. Up to her fifteenth year she enjoyed a nourishing
+health. Suddenly she began to languish, grew ill, and barely in her
+sixteenth year, her light went out, in the arms of her father, who never
+ceased weeping for her. But this is quite enough about the daughters of
+Charles the Great. Once more, will you or will you not, endeavor to
+cause Morvan to abandon a resolution that can have for its only effect
+the ruin of this country? You are silent--do you refuse?"
+
+Absorbed in the thoughts that the fate of the ill-starred Thetralde had
+started in his mind, Vortigern remained mute and melancholy. His
+thoughts flew to the young girl who died so young, and the touching
+remembrance of whom had long remained alive with him. Impatient at the
+prolonged silence of the Breton, the abbot put his hand on Vortigern's
+shoulder, and repeated his question:
+
+"I ask you, yes or no, will you endeavor to cause Morvan to renounce his
+insensate resolution?"
+
+"Your King wants war; he shall have war."
+
+And Vortigern, relapsing into his own meditations, rode silently beside
+Witchaire until the two reached the city of Guenhek. There Vortigern
+entrusted the guidance of the abbot to an experienced guide, and while
+the messenger of Louis the Pious proceeded towards the frontier of
+Brittany, the brother of Noblede hastened back and rejoined his wife
+Josseline at the house of Morvan.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE DEFILE OF GLEN-CLAN.
+
+
+The defile of Glen-Clan is the only practicable passage across the last
+links of the Black Mountains--a mountain chain that constitutes a
+veritable girdle of granite as a natural protection to the heart of
+Brittany. The defile of Glen-Clan is so narrow that a wagon can barely
+thread it; it is so steep that six yoke of oxen are barely able to drag
+a wagon up its craggy incline, from the top of which a stone of
+considerable size would roll rapidly down to the bottom of the pass--a
+pass cut, like the bed of a mountain torrent, at the feet of immense
+rocks that rise on either side perpendicular over a hundred feet in the
+air.
+
+A distant rumbling noise, confused at first, and becoming more and more
+distinct as it draws nearer and nearer, disturbs one day, shortly after
+the angry departure of Abbot Witchaire from Brittany, the otherwise
+profound silence of the solitude. By little and little the dull tramp of
+cavalry is distinguished; presently also the clanking of iron arms upon
+iron armor, and finally the rythmic tread of large troops of foot
+soldiers, the lumbering of wagon wheels jolting upon the stony ground,
+the neighing of horses and the bellowing of yoke-oxen. All these various
+sounds draw nearer, grow louder, and are finally blended into one steady
+roar. They announce the approach of an army corps of considerable
+proportions. Suddenly the mournful and prolonged cry of a night bird is
+heard from the crest of the rocks that overhang the defile. Other
+similar, but more distant cries answer the first signal, like an echo
+that loses itself in the distance. Silence ensues thereupon--except for
+the tumultuous din of the advancing army corps. A small troop appears at
+the entrance of the tortuous passage; a monk on horseback guides the
+scouting party. At the monk's side rides a warrior of tall stature, clad
+in rich armor. His white buckler, on which three eagle's talons are
+designed, hangs to one side from the pommel of his saddle, while an iron
+mace dangles from the other. Behind the Frankish chief ride several
+cavalrymen accompanied by about a score of Saxon archers,
+distinguishable by their long quivers.
+
+"Hugh," says the chief of the warriors to one of his men, "take with you
+two horsemen, and let five or six archers precede you to make certain
+that there is no ambush to fear. At the slightest sign of an attack fall
+back upon us and give the alarm. I do not wish to entangle the gross of
+my troop in this defile without the necessary precautions."
+
+Hugh obeys his chief. The little vanguard quickens its step and soon
+disappears beyond one of the windings of the pass.
+
+"Neroweg, the measure is wise," observes the monk. "One could not
+advance with too much precaution into this accursed country of Brittany,
+where I have lived long enough to know that it is extremely dangerous."
+
+"At the end of this defile, I am told, we enter upon even ground."
+
+"Yes, but before that we shall have to cross the marsh of Peulven and
+the forest of Cardik; we then arrive at the vast moor of Kennor, the
+rendezvous of the two other armed bodies of Louis the Pious, who are
+marching to that point across the river Vilaine and over the defile of
+Mount Orock, as we are to penetrate through this one. Morvan will be
+attacked from three sides, and will not be able to resist our forces."
+
+"I marvel that so important a pass as this is not defended."
+
+"I furnished you the reason when I delivered to you Morvan's plan of
+campaign, that was forwarded to me by Kervor, a pious Catholic who came
+over to the Frankish side and submitted to the authority of our King. He
+is the chief of the southern tribes whose territory we have just
+crossed."
+
+"I loved to see those people so docile to the priests; they furnished us
+with supplies, and at your voice knelt down as we passed."
+
+"At the time of the other wars you would have dropped fully one-half of
+your troops in this region so cut up with bogs, hedges and woods. The
+change between now and then is great. The Catholic faith penetrates
+little by little these people, formerly so intractable. We have preached
+to them submission to Louis the Pious, and menaced them with the fires
+of hell if they attempted to resist your arms."
+
+"Indeed, more than one of the troopers of the old bands who fought here
+at the time of Charles the Great, have told me they could no longer
+recognize the Bretons, who, in their days, were almost invincible. But
+for all your explanations, monk, I cannot understand how this pass comes
+to be abandoned."
+
+"And yet nothing is simpler. According to his plan of campaign, Morvan
+counted with the resistance of the tribes that we have just crossed. In
+one day, without drawing your sword, you have cleared a track that would
+otherwise have cost you three days' hard fighting, and a fourth of your
+troops. Morvan, never apprehending your early arrival at the defile of
+Glen-Clan, will not think of having it occupied until this evening, or
+to-morrow. He has not enough forces at his disposal to place them where
+they would lie idle while he himself is being attacked from two other
+sides by as many army corps."
+
+"To that argument I have nothing to say, my father in Christ, you know
+the country better than I. If this war succeeds, I shall have my share
+of the conquered territory; and, according to the promise of Louis the
+Pious, I shall become a powerful seigneur in Brittany, as my elder
+brother, Gonthran, is in Auvergne."
+
+"And you will not forget to endow the Church."
+
+"I shall not be ungrateful to the priests, good father. I shall employ a
+part of the booty in building a chapel to St. Martin, for whom our
+family has ever entertained a particular devotion. Could you, who are
+well acquainted with the customs of the Bretons, tell me what corners
+they hide their money in? It is claimed that they remove all their
+treasures when they are forced to flee from their houses, and that they
+bury them in inaccessible hiding places. Is that so?"
+
+"When we shall have arrived in the heart of the country, I shall
+acquaint you with the means to discover those treasures, which are,
+almost always, concealed at the foot of certain druid stones, for which
+these pagans preserve an idolatrous reverence."
+
+"But where shall we find those stones? By what signs are they to be
+recognized?"
+
+"That is my secret, Neroweg. It will become _ours_ after we shall have
+reached the heart of the country."
+
+Thus conversing, the monk and the Frankish chief slowly ascend the
+craggy slope of the defile. From time to time, some of the horsemen, or
+foot soldiers, detached as scouts, ride back to acquaint Neroweg with
+their observations. Finally, Hugh himself returns and informs his master
+that there is nothing to cause any apprehension on the score of an
+ambuscade. Completely reassured by these reports, and by the
+explanations of the monk, Neroweg gives the order for the advance of his
+troops, the footmen first, the horsemen next, then the baggage, and last
+of all a rear corps of foot soldiers.
+
+The army corps breaks up and enters the pass that is so narrow as to
+allow a passage to only four men abreast. The long and winding column of
+men covered with iron, crowded together, and moving slowly, presents a
+strange spectacle from the top of the rocks that dominate the narrow
+route. It might be taken for some gigantic serpent with iron scales,
+deploying its sinuous folds in a ravine cut between two walls of
+granite. The misgivings of the Franks, somewhat alarmed when they first
+began threading their way through a passage so propitious to an ambush,
+are presently removed and make place for unquestioning confidence.
+Already the vanguard that precedes Neroweg and the monk is drawing near
+the issue of the defile, while at the other end the baggage wagons,
+drawn by oxen, begin to set themselves in motion followed by the rear
+guard that consists of Thuringian horsemen and Saxon archers. The last
+wagons and the rear guard have barely entered the defile, when suddenly
+the lugubrious cry of the night bird, resembling that which had greeted
+the first arrival of the Frankish army, resounds again, and is echoed
+from peak to peak, along the whole length of the overtopping rocks.
+Immediately thereupon, pushed by invisible arms, several enormous
+boulders detach themselves from the surrounding rocks that an instant
+before seemed a solid part of themselves, roll and bound with the rattle
+of thunder from the top of the crest down to the foot of the mountain,
+and fall crashing upon the wagons, crushing a large number of soldiers
+to death, mutilating many more and disabling the train. In their
+paroxysms of death, or rendered furious by their wounds, the oxen crowd
+upon or roll over one another, and throw the rear guard of the Franks
+into such frightful disorder that it is wholly unable to make another
+step in advance; it is cut off from the gross of the troops by the
+lumber in its way; it is reduced to utter impotence. All along the rest
+of the length of the defile of Glen-Clan the Franks are in similar
+plight. All along the line, fragments of rocks roll down from the
+overtopping crests, crushing and decimating the compact mass of soldiers
+below. The gigantic serpent of iron is mutilated, cut into bleeding
+sections; it writhes convulsively at the bottom of the ravine, while
+from the summits on either side, now crowned with a swarm of Bretons,
+who kept themselves until then concealed, a hailstorm of arrows,
+boar-spears and stones rains down upon the bewildered, panic-stricken
+and impotent Frankish cohorts, caught and hemmed in between the two
+granite walls, from whose tops our men deal prompt and unavoidable death
+to their invaders. Vortigern is in command of these resolute and
+watchful Bretons. His bow in one hand, his quiver by his side, not one
+of his bolts misses its mark.
+
+The butchery is frightful! The carnage superb! The Gallic war-songs and
+cries of triumph from above answer the imprecations of the Franks from
+below. A frightful butchery!
+
+A superb carnage! It lasts as long as our men have a stone to throw, a
+bolt or a spear to hurl at the foe. His own, and the munitions of his
+companions being exhausted, Vortigern cries down from the summit of the
+rocks to the frantic Franks below, accompanying the cry with a gesture
+of defiance:
+
+"We will thus defend our soil, inch by inch; every step you take will be
+marked by your blood or our own; all our tribes are not like those of
+Kervor!"
+
+Saying this, Vortigern struck up the martial song of his ancestor
+Schanvoch:
+
+ "This morning we asked:
+ 'How many are there of these Franks?
+ How many are there of these barbarians?'
+ This evening we say:
+ 'How many were there of these Franks?
+ How many were there of these barbarians?'"[E]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE MARSH OF PEULVEN.
+
+
+Vast is the marsh of Peulven. To the east and the south its shape is
+like a bay. From that side its edges are bordered by the skirts of the
+dense forest of Cardik. To the north and west, it waters the gentle
+slopes of the hills that succeed upon the last spurs of the Black
+Mountains, whose tops, empurpled by the rays of the westering sun, rise
+in the distant horizon. A jetty, or tongue of land that runs into the
+edge of the forest, traverses the marsh through its whole length.
+Silence is profound in this desert place. The stagnant waters reflect
+the inflamed tints of the ruddy twilight. From time to time flocks of
+curlews, herons and other aquatic birds, rise from amidst the reeds that
+cover the marsh in spots, hover about and fly upward, emitting their
+plaintive cries. Several Frankish horsemen appear from the side of the
+mountain. They climb the hill, reach its top, and rein in their horses.
+They sweep the marsh with their eyes, examine it for a moment, then turn
+their horses' heads and ride back to join Neroweg and the monk, whose
+forces, decimated shortly before in the defile of Glen-Clan, have been
+subsequently harassed without let on their further march by little
+Breton bands, who, placed in ambush behind hedges, or in ditches covered
+with dry wood, unexpectedly fell upon either the vanguard or the rear
+guard of the Franks, and, after bloody encounters, again vanished in
+that region so interspersed with obstacles of all sorts, impracticable
+for cavalry, and with which the Frankish foot soldiers are so utterly
+unfamiliar that they ventured not to separate themselves from the main
+column, ever fearing to fall into some fresh ambush. On horseback behind
+the monk, Neroweg stands on the summit of a hill not far behind the one
+that the scouts have just ascended. He awaits their return in order to
+continue his march. The vanguard has halted at a little distance from
+the chief. Further away rest the bulk of his troops. A small detachment
+of the rear guard was ordered to take its stand about a league further
+back in order to guard the baggage, the wagons and the wounded of the
+sorely harassed army.
+
+The lines on the face of the Frankish chief denote deep concern. He says
+to the monk:
+
+"What a war! What a war! I have fought against the Northmans, when they
+attacked our fortified camps at the confluence of the Somme and the
+Seine. Those accursed pirates are terrible foes. They are as dashing in
+attack as they are cautious in retreat, and they ever find a safe
+shelter in the light craft in which they come over the seas of the North
+as far south as Gaul. But by St. Martin! these accursed Bretons are
+fuller of the devil, and harder to get at than even the pirates! They
+were a source of trouble to Charles the great Emperor; they have become
+the desolation of his son!" And Neroweg repeats dejectedly: "What a war!
+What a war!"
+
+The monk turns upon his saddle, and stretching out his hand in the
+direction traversed by the Frankish troop, says to Neroweg:
+
+"Look toward the west!"
+
+Turning his eyes in the direction indicated by the priest, the Frankish
+chief notices behind him tall columns of ruddy smoke rising at intervals
+from the hills that the army has left behind it. "Look yonder!
+Everywhere a conflagration marks our passage. The burgs and villages,
+abandoned by the fleeing inhabitants, have, at my orders, been delivered
+to the flames. The Bretons have not, like the Northman pirates, the
+resource of vessels on which to flee with their booty back to the ocean.
+We are driving the fleeing population before us. The two other army
+corps of Louis the Pious are, from their side, following similar
+tactics. Accordingly, we and they will meet to-morrow morning at the
+village of Lokfern. There we will find, driven back and heaped together,
+the populations that have been attacked from the south, the east and the
+north during these last days. There, surrounded by a circle of iron,
+they will be either annihilated or reduced to slavery! Ah! This time
+without fail, Brittany, never before overcome, will be subjected to the
+Catholic Church and to the power of the Franks. What if your soldiers
+have been decimated in the struggle for the triumph of the faith and
+royalty! The troops that you still have, will, when joined to the other
+army corps, suffice to exterminate the Bretons!"
+
+"Monk," answers Neroweg impatiently, "your words do not console me for
+the death of so many brave Frankish warriors whose bones have been left
+to bleach in the defile of Glen-Clan and on the hills of this accursed
+country!"
+
+"Rather envy their fate. They have died for religion; they are now in
+paradise, in the midst of a chorus of seraphim."
+
+Neroweg shrugs his shoulders with an air of incredulity, and after a
+moment of silence proceeds: "You promised to point out to me where
+these pagans conceal their treasures."
+
+"On the other side of the marsh of Peulven which we are now to traverse,
+lies a vast forest in which a large number of druid stones are found.
+Have the earth removed at their foot, and you will find large sums of
+money in silver and gold, and many precious articles that have been
+hidden there since the beginning of the war."
+
+"When will we arrive at that forest?"
+
+"This evening before nightfall."
+
+"I do not wish to risk my troops in that forest, and fall into another
+ambush like the one of the defile!" cries Neroweg. "The day is drawing
+to its close. We shall encamp to-night in the midst of the bare hills
+where we now are, and where no surprise is to be feared."
+
+"Here are your scouts back," observes the monk to the Frankish chief.
+"Interrogate them before you make up your mind definitely."
+
+"Neroweg," reports one of the riders who had scouted to the edge of the
+marsh, "as far as the eye reaches, nothing is seen on the marsh; there
+is no sign of any men; there is not a boat in sight. On the shores there
+is not a single hut, and there is no evidence of any entrenchment."
+
+Impatient to judge by himself of the nature of the field, the Frankish
+chief, followed by the monk, immediately rides forward and reaches the
+top of the hill shortly before occupied by the scouts. From the eminence
+Neroweg beholds a vast expanse of marshy ground in whose numerous pools
+of stagnant water the last rays of the sinking sun are mirrored. The
+jetty, covered with sward and lined with a thick fringe of reeds,
+reaches clear to the other side, and is lost on the edge of the forest.
+"There is not the slightest fear of an ambush in crossing this
+solitude," says Neroweg with visible mental relief. "The march across
+can only take up half an hour, at the most."
+
+"We have about an hour more of daylight left us," observes the monk.
+"The forest you see yonder is called the forest of Cardik. It stretches
+far away to the right and left of the marsh, seeing that, towards the
+west, it reaches the borders of the Armorican Sea. But that portion of
+the forest that faces the jetty is at the utmost a quarter of a league
+long. We could easily put it behind us before night, and we would then
+be on the moor of Kennor, an immense plain where you could encamp in
+absolute security. To-morrow at daybreak if it should please you, we can
+ride back into the forest and rummage at the foot of the druid stones
+for the treasures hidden there by the Bretons. Glory to your arms, and
+may the booty be large!"
+
+After a few minutes of hesitation, Neroweg, tempted by cupidity, sends a
+man of his escort to give to his troops the order to march and traverse
+the jetty, a narrow walk of about three feet wide, perfectly even,
+covered with thin grass, and lying in plain view from one end to the
+other. Neroweg feels easy in mind. Nevertheless, remembering the rocks
+of Glen-Clan, he prudently orders several horsemen to precede the troops
+by about a hundred paces. Marching behind their chief, Neroweg's troops
+begin to defile along the jetty, which soon is covered with soldiers
+from end to end. Massed from the foot to the top of the hill, behind the
+advancing column, are the last detachments of Neroweg's army. They break
+ranks as fast as it is their turn to enter upon the passage.
+
+Suddenly, from the midst of the clumps of reeds that rise at irregular
+intervals along the length of the tongue of land, the cry of
+night-birds goes up--cries identical with those that had resounded from
+the summits of Glen-Clan. Upon the signal, the muffled sounds of rapid
+hatchet strokes are heard. They teem to be the answer given to the cries
+of the night-birds. Instantly the seemingly solid walk sinks at scores
+of places under the feet of the marching soldiers. Woe is those who
+happen to find themselves over these hidden traps, that are constructed
+of wooden beams and strong chains concealed under a layer of sward! The
+scheme, devised by Vortigern, proves successful. The movable bridges
+can, at will, either support the weight of the troops that march over
+them, or tip over under their tread, by the dexterous knocking from
+under the loose boards the wooden pegs that are their only support.
+
+Plunged in the water up to their necks, Vortigern and a large number of
+stout-hearted men of his tribe have held themselves motionless, mute and
+invisible in the center of the clumps of reeds that border the jetty
+near each of the traps. When the jetty is entirely covered with Frankish
+soldiers, the hatchets are, at a signal, plied with energy; the pegs
+drop out; and the passage is suddenly cut up by scores of gaps twenty
+feet wide. Pell-mell foot soldiers, cavalrymen and their horses tumble
+to the bottom of these suddenly opened ditches, and are received
+thereupon by the sharp points of piles providently sunk at the bottom.
+
+At the sight of these death-dealing traps, suddenly gaping before them
+at their feet, and at the sound of the wild cries and imprecations
+uttered by the wounded and by those who are being pushed forward into
+the abysses by the crowding ranks behind, a tremendous disorder,
+followed by a panic, spreads among the Franks. Fearing the path to be
+everywhere undermined, the soldiers crowd back and forward upon one
+another in a frenzy of despair. The frightened horses rear, tumble down,
+or rush furiously into the marsh where they vanish together with their
+riders. The confusion and rout being at its height, the Bretons rise
+from their places of concealment among the reeds, and hurl promiscuously
+a shower of bolts upon the confused heaps of soldiers, now rendered
+insane with fear, and in their panic either trampling upon one another,
+or themselves being trampled upon by their uncontrollable steeds. Other
+war-crys respond from a distance to the war-cries struck up by Vortigern
+and his men. A troop of Bretons issues from the forest and ranks itself
+in battle array at the border of the marsh ready to dispute the passage
+if the Franks dare to attempt it The sight of these fresh foes carries
+the panic of Neroweg's troops to its acme. Instead of marching onward
+towards the edge of the forest, the front rank faces about, anxious only
+to join the body of the army that still finds itself massed at the
+entrance of the fatal causeway. The rush is effected with such fury that
+the deep trenches are speedily filled with the bodies of a mass of
+wounded, dead and dying warriors. The heaped-up corpses soon serve as a
+bridge to the fleeing Franks, whose rear the Breton bolts assail
+unpityingly. At the spectacle of the routed Franks, Vortigern and his
+braves strike up anew the war song with which they had assailed the ears
+of the distracted Franks at the defile of Glen-Clan:
+
+ "This morning we asked:
+ 'How many are there of these Franks?
+ How many are there of these barbarians?'
+ This evening we say:
+ 'How many were there of these Franks?
+ How many were there of these barbarians?'
+ Victory and Glory to Hesus!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE FOREST OF CARDIK.
+
+
+"What a war! What a war!" exclaim the warriors of Louis the Pious,
+leaving at every step some of their companions behind among the rocks
+and the marshes of Armorica. "Every hedge of the fields, every ditch in
+the valleys conceals a Breton of steady eye and hand. The stone of the
+sling, the arrow of the bow whiz everywhere through the air, nor miss
+their aim. The pits of the precipices, and the bottoms of the stagnant
+waters swallow up the bodies of our soldiers. If we penetrate into the
+forests, the danger redoubles. Every copse, the branches of every tree,
+conceal an enemy!"
+
+Neroweg, having barely escaped with his life from the disaster of the
+marsh of Peulven, spends the night upon the hill with the remaining
+fragment of his army. At early dawn the next morning he orders the
+trumpets and clarions to call his men to their ranks. At the head of his
+warriors he again steps upon the narrow jetty of the marsh. He is
+determined to force his way into the forest of Cardik. Footmen and
+horses again trample over the heaped-up corpses in the wide trenches. No
+ambush now retards the passage of the Franks. By sunrise the last
+detachments have crossed the marsh, and all the forces still at the
+command of Neroweg are deployed along the skirts of the forest that is
+now serving as a retreat to the Gauls of Armorica, and where they have
+taken their next stand.
+
+The primeval forest extends, towards the west, as far as the steep banks
+of a river that runs into the sea, and towards the east, up to a chain
+of precipitous hills. Furious at the defeat he suffered on the previous
+evening, the Frankish chief is hardly able to restrain his ardor. Always
+accompanied by the monk, he advances into the forest. The oaks, the
+elms, the ash trees, the birch trees, raise their gigantic trunks and
+interlace their spreading branches. Between these trunks, all is
+underwood, bramble and briar. Only one narrow and tortuous path presents
+itself to Neroweg's sight. He enters it. Daylight barely penetrates the
+walk through the dense vault of verdure, shaped overhead by the foliage
+of the stately trees. Thickets of holly seven or eight feet high fringe
+the way. Their prickly leaves render them impenetrable.
+
+Unable to wander off either to the right or to the left, the soldiers
+are compelled to follow the defile of verdure. Laboring under the shock
+of their recent disasters, they march with mistrust through the somber
+forest of Cardik, speaking only in undertones, and from time to time
+interrogating with uneasy looks the leafy branches of the trees, or the
+thicket that borders the route. For a while nothing justifies the
+apprehensions of the Frankish cohorts. The silence of the forest is
+disturbed only by the rhythmic and muffled sound of their steps, and the
+clank of their arms. But even the silence itself nourishes the vague
+fears of the Franks. The defile of Glen-Clan and the marsh of Peulven
+also were silent! More than one-half of the rest of the army now left to
+Neroweg has entered the forest, when, reaching one of the turns of the
+winding path, the Frankish chief, who marches at the head of his
+horsemen accompanied by the monk, suddenly stops short. The path has
+vanished. Gigantic oaks and elms, a hundred feet tall and from fifteen
+to twenty feet in circumference, and bearing the evidence of having only
+freshly fallen under the axe of the woodman, lie heaped upon each other
+and so tangled in their fall across the route that their enormous
+branches and colossal trunks present an impassible barrier to the
+cavalry. Only foot soldiers might possibly scale the obstruction, and
+cut their way across with hatchets.
+
+"Oh! What a war!" cries out Neroweg, clenching his fists. "After the
+defile, the marsh! After the marsh, the forest! I shall have barely
+one-third of my forces left by the time I join the other chiefs!
+Accursed Bretons, may the fires of hell consume you!"
+
+"Yes, these heathens will burn! They shall burn until the last day of
+judgment!" responds the monk with deep vexation. "Courage, Neroweg!
+Courage! This last obstacle being overcome, we shall arrive at the moor
+of Kennor. There we shall join the other two army corps of Louis the
+Pious, and we shall all jointly penetrate into the valley of Lokfern,
+where we will exterminate these accursed Bretons to the last man."
+
+"Have you seen me falter in courage? By the great St. Martin, it looks
+as if you were in league with the enemy, judging by the route you have
+guided us on! Already have you twice led us into an ambush, you
+miserable priest!"
+
+"Have I not braved all the dangers at your side?" observes the priest,
+holding up his left arm, that is wound in a bloodstained bandage. "Was I
+not myself wounded last evening when we attempted to cross the marsh of
+Peulven? Can you question my courage or fidelity?"
+
+"How are we to find another route? The one barred is the only one, you
+told me, that crosses this forest, otherwise impracticable to an army."
+
+The monk looks around; he reflects; but no answer proceeds from his
+lips. A prey to discouragement and increasing terror, the soldiers begin
+to grumble, when suddenly three quickly succeeding cries of the
+night-bird pierce the air. Immediately the Breton slingers and archers,
+ambushed behind the breast-work of fallen trees, assail the Franks with
+a volley of stones and arrows. Enormous oak branches, previously
+prepared, detach themselves from the tops of their trunks, and come down
+crashing upon the heads of the soldiers, killing or mutilating them.
+Anew, panic seizes the Franks; a fresh carnage decimates them.
+Cavalrymen thrown from their horses, foot soldiers trampled under the
+hoofs of the frightened steeds, all blinded, their flesh torn as in
+their fright they precipitate themselves into the thick of the prickly
+holly hedges--such is this day's spectacle presented to the delighted
+Breton eyes by the invading army of Neroweg. What an inspiring spectacle
+to the Armorican Gauls! The air is filled with the moans of the dying,
+the imprecations of the wounded, the threats hurled at the monk, now
+roundly charged with treason.
+
+The carnage and the panic are at their height when, climbing to the top
+of the breast-work of trees whence he can gain a full view of the
+distracted foe, Vortigern appears before the Franks and calls out to
+them defiantly:
+
+"Now you may try to cross the forest. Our quivers are empty. We shall
+retreat to replenish them and shall be ready to meet you in the valley
+of Lokfern."
+
+Vortigern has barely uttered these words when his eyes catch sight of
+the chief of the Franks, who, having descended from his horse, holds up
+against the stones and bolts of his assailants, his white buckler, on
+which three eagle's talons are seen painted. At the sight of the device
+of his own stock's ancestral foe, Vortigern places his last arrow upon
+the string of his bow.
+
+"The descendant of Joel sends this to the descendant of the Nerowegs."
+
+The arrow whizzes. It grazes the lower border of the Frank's buckler,
+and penetrates his knee just above the jointure.
+
+Neroweg falls upon the other knee, points out the Gaul to several
+archers in his vicinity, and cries:
+
+"Take aim at that bandit! Kill him!"
+
+The Saxon arrows fly through the air; two strike, and quiver where they
+strike, in the upturned branches of the tree on which Vortigern has
+mounted; the third enters his left arm.
+
+The descendant of Joel quickly draws out the sharp-edged iron, throws it
+back at the Franks with a defiant gesture, and disappears behind the
+twisted branches of the improvised barricade.
+
+Three times the cry of the night bird is again heard in the forest, and
+the Bretons disperse along paths known only to them, again singing as
+they go, the ancient war-song, the sound of whose refrain is gradually
+lost in the distance:
+
+ "This morning we asked:
+ 'How many are there of these Franks?
+ How many are there of these barbarians?'
+ This evening we say:
+ 'How many were there of these Franks?
+ How many were there of these barbarians?'
+ Victory, Victory for Gaul!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE MOOR OF KENNOR.
+
+
+About four leagues in width and three in length--such is the expanse of
+the moor of Kennor. It constitutes a vast plateau that slopes to the
+north toward the valley of Lokfern, and is bounded on the west by a wide
+river that pours its waters into the Sea of Armorica only a little
+distance away. The forest of Cardik and the last spurs of the mountain
+chain of Men-Brez border on the moor. The moor is covered throughout its
+extent by heather two or three feet high and almost burned out by the
+scorching sun of the dog-days. Level as a lake, the immense barren and
+desert plain presents a desolate aspect. A violent east wind causes the
+tall heather, now of the color of dead leaves, to undulate like a
+peaceful sheet of water. Above, the sky is of a bright blue on this
+sultry and windy day. An August sun inundates with its blinding light
+the desert expanse of heather, whose silence is disturbed only by the
+sharp chirp of the grasshopper, or the low moan of the gale.
+
+Presently a new element enters upon the scene. Skirting the bank of the
+river, a black and confused mass heaves into sight, stretches out its
+length, and moves toward the centre of the plain. It is the one of the
+three army corps led in person by Louis the Pious against the Breton
+Gauls. Long before its appearance, other troops, formed in compact
+cohorts, have been descending on the east the last slopes of Men-Brez.
+They, likewise, are advancing toward the plain--the place agreed upon
+for the junction of the three armies that had invaded Armorica, burning
+and ravaging the country upon their passage, and driving the population
+back towards the valley of Lokfern. The only division absent from the
+rendezvous is the contingent captained by Neroweg, which, since morning,
+has been struggling in the forest of Cardik. Finally it has issued in
+disorder from the woods, and re-formed its ranks. After incalculable
+labor, hewing, axe in hand, a passage through the thickets, leaving
+their cavalry behind, and forced to retreat upon their steps back to the
+marsh of Peulven, the troops of Neroweg at last succeed in crossing the
+forest. These troops now number barely one-half their original strength.
+They are reduced, not only by the losses sustained in the passage of the
+defile of Glen-Clan, of the marsh of Peulven, and the forest of Cardik,
+but also by the defection of large numbers of men, who, being more and
+more terror stricken by the resistance that they encountered, refused to
+listen to the orders of their chief, and followed the cavalry in its
+retreat. Neroweg's greatly reduced contingent now also appears in sight
+from the opposite side. The three army corps have descried one another.
+Their march converges towards the centre of the plain. The distance
+between them becomes so small that they are able to see one another's
+armor, casques and lances, glistening in the sun. The division of Louis
+the Pious, having been the first to descend into the plain over the
+hills of Men-Brez, halts, in order to wait for the other divisions. The
+troops under Louis the Pious himself are no less demoralized and reduced
+in numbers than the division under Neroweg. They have undergone similar
+vicissitudes during their long march, having had to cut their way
+across a seemingly endless series of ambushes. The sight of their
+companions arriving from the opposite side revives their courage.
+Henceforth they expect to fight in the open. As far as the eye can
+reach, the vast plain that they now have entered upon lies fully exposed
+to view. It can conceal no trap. The last struggle is now at hand, and
+with it the close of the war. The Bretons, crowded together just beyond
+in the valley of Lokfern, are to be crushed by a combined armed force
+that is still three times stronger than theirs.
+
+The vanguards of the three converging divisions are about to join when
+suddenly, from the east, whence a dry and steady gale is blowing, little
+puffs of smoke, at first almost imperceptible, are seen to rise at
+irregular distances from one another. The puffs of smoke are going up
+from the extreme eastern edge of the moor; they spread; they mingle with
+one another over an area more than two leagues in length; by little and
+little they present the aspect of one continuous belt of blackish smoke
+rising high and spreading into the air, and from time to time breaking
+out into lambent flames.
+
+The fire has been kindled at a hundred different spots by the Breton
+Gauls with the dry heather of the moor. Driven by the violent gale the
+girdle of flame soon embraces the horizon from the east to the south,
+from the slopes of Men-Brez to the skirt of the forest. It advances with
+rapid strides like the waves of the incoming tide lashed by a furious
+wind. Terrified at the sight of the burning waves that are rushing upon
+them from the right with the swiftness of a hurricane, the Frankish
+ranks waver for a moment. To their left, runs a deep river; behind them,
+rises the forest of Cardik; before them the plateau slopes towards the
+valley of Lokfern. Himself running for life towards the valley, Louis
+the Pious thereby gives to his troops the signal to flee. They follow
+their king tumultuously, anxious only to leave the moor behind them
+before the flames, that now invade the plateau from end to end, entirely
+cut off their retreat. Impatient to escape the danger, the cavalry
+breaks ranks, follows the example set by the king, traverses the cohorts
+of the infantry, throws them down, and rides rough-shod over them. The
+disorder, the tumult, the terror are at their height. The soldiers
+struggle with the horsemen and with one another. The fiery wave advances
+steadily; it advances faster than it can be run away from. The swiftest
+steed cannot cope with it. The all-embracing sheet of fire reaches first
+the soldiers whom the cavalry has thrown down and left wounded behind;
+it speedily envelopes the bulk of the army. In an instant the distracted
+cohorts are seen up to their waists in the midst of the flames.
+
+By the valor of our fathers, it is the hell of the damned in this world!
+Frightful! torture! Excruciating pain! A cheering sight for the eyes of
+a Breton Gaul, harassed by invaders, to behold his merciless assailers
+in. Frankish horsemen cased in iron and fallen from their steeds, roast
+within their red-hot armor like tortoises in their shell. The footmen
+jump and leap to withdraw their nether extremities from the embrace of
+the caressing flames. But the flames never leave them; the flames gain
+the lead. Their feet and legs are grilled, refuse their support, and the
+men drop into the furnace emitting cries of despair. The horses fare no
+better despite their breathless gallop; they feel their flanks and
+buttocks devoured by the flames; they become savage. They are seized
+with a vertigo; they rear, plunge and fall over upon their riders.
+Horses and riders roll down into the brasier at their feet. The horses
+neigh piteously, the riders moan or utter curses. An immense concert of
+imprecations, of fierce cries of pain and rage rises heavenward with the
+flames of the magnificent hecatomb of Frankish warriors!
+
+Oh! Beautiful to the eye is the moor of Kennor, still ruddy and smoking
+an hour after it is set on fire and consumed to the very root of its
+heather! Splendid brasier three leagues wide, strewn with thousands of
+Frankish bodies, shapeless, charred. Warm quarry above which already
+flocks of carrion-crows from the forest of Cardik are hovering! Glory to
+you, Bretons! More than a third of the Frankish army met death on the
+moor of Kennor.
+
+"What a war! What a war!" also exclaims Louis the Pious.
+
+Aye, a merciless war; a holy war; a thrice holy war, waged by a people
+in defence of their freedom, their homes, their fields, their hearths;
+Oh, ancient land of the Gauls! Oh, old Armorica, sacred mother!
+Everything turns into a weapon in the hands of your rugged children
+against their barbarous invaders! Rocks, precipices, marshes, woods,
+moors on fire! Oh, Brittany, betrayed by those of your own children who
+succumbed to the wiles of the Catholic priests, stabbed at your heart by
+the sword of the Frankish kings, and pouring out the generous heart
+blood of your children, perchance, after all, you will feel the yoke of
+the conquerer on your neck! But the bones of your enemies, crushed,
+burned and drowned in the struggle, will tell to our descendants the
+tale of a resistance that Armorica offered to her casqued and mitred
+invaders!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE VALLEY OF LOKFERN.
+
+
+Decimated by the conflagration of the moor of Kennor, the Frankish army
+flees in disorder in the direction of the valley of Lokfern, that lies
+slightly below the vast plateau on which an hour before the three
+Frankish divisions have joined, confident that their trials are ended.
+Escaped from the disaster of the conflagration and carried onward by the
+impetuosity of their steeds, a portion of the Frankish cavalry that
+follows Louis the Pious in his precipitate flight, arrives at the
+confines of the plateau. Driven by a terror that left them no thought
+but to outstrip one another, the fleeing riders seem to give no heed to
+the sight that unfolds before them. At the foot of the slope that they
+are about to descend, stands the numerous Breton cavalry, drawn up in
+battle array, under the command of Morvan and Vortigern. It is only a
+cavalry of rustics, yet intrepid, veterans in warfare, perfectly
+mounted. Carried by the headlong course of their horses beyond the edge
+of the plateau and down the slope to the valley, the Franks rush in
+confused order upon the Breton cavalry that is drawn up as if to bar
+their passage; they rush onward, either unable to restrain their still
+frightened steeds, or conceiving a vague hope of crushing the opposing
+Bretons under the irresistible violence of their impetuous descent. The
+Breton cavalry, however, instead of waiting for the Franks, quickly
+parts in two corps, one commanded by Morvan, the other by Vortigern.
+One corps seems to flee to the right, the other to the left. The space
+from the foot of the hill to the river Scoer being thus left free by the
+sudden and rapid manoeuvre of the Gauls, most of the Frankish horsemen
+find themselves hardly able to rein in their horses in time to escape
+falling into the water. A moment of disorder follows. It is turned to
+advantage by Morvan and Vortigern. The Frankish riders being dispersed
+and engaged with their steeds, Vortigern and Morvan turn about and fall
+upon them. They take the foe upon the flanks, right and left; charge
+upon them with fury; make havoc among them. Most of them are sabred to
+death, or have their heads beaten in with axes, others are driven into
+the river. During the fierce melee, the remnant of the infantry of Louis
+the Pious, still fleeing from the furnace of the moor of Kennor, arrives
+upon the spot in disorder. Trained in the trade of massacre, they
+promptly reform their ranks and pour down upon the Breton cavalry. At
+first victorious, these are finally crushed, overwhelmed by vastly
+superior numbers. On the other side of the river the rustic Gallic
+infantry still continue to hold their ground--husbandmen, woo-men and
+shepherds armed with pikes, scythes and axes, and many of them supplied
+with bows and slings. Behind this mass of warriors, and within an
+enclosure defended by barricades of heaped up trunks of trees and
+ditches, are assembled the women and children of the combatants. All
+their families have fled distracted before the invaders, carrying their
+valuables in their flight, and now await with indescribable agony the
+issue of this last battle.
+
+Weep! Weep, Brittany! and yet be proud of your glory! Your sons, crushed
+down by numbers, resisted to their last breath; all have fallen wounded
+or dead in defence of their freedom!
+
+The river is fordable for infantry at only one place. The monk who
+accompanies Neroweg points out the passage to the troops of Louis the
+Pious. They cross it immediately after the annihilation of the cavalry
+of Morvan. The Armoricans who are drawn up on the opposite bank of the
+Scoer heroically defend the ground inch by inch, man to man, ever
+falling back toward the fortified enclosure that is the last refuge of
+our families. Marching over heaps of corpses, the soldiery of Louis the
+Pious finally assail the fortified enclosure, all its defenders having
+been killed or wounded. The enclosure is taken. According to their
+custom, the Franks slaughter the children, put the women and maids to
+the torture of infamous treatment, and lead them away captive to the
+interior of Gaul. Ermond the Black, a monk and familiar of Louis the
+Pious in this impious war, wrote its account in Latin verse. The death
+of Morvan is narrated in the poem as follows:
+
+ "Then presently the cry runs through the ranks
+ That Morvan's head, the Breton chieftain's head,
+ Has been brought in unto the Frankish King:
+ To see it haste the Franks; they shout with joy
+ At prospect to behold the grisley sight.
+ From hand to hand the bloody head is passed,
+ Marred with the sword that hewed it from its trunk.
+ Witchaire the Abbot next is called upon
+ T' identify the member, if it be
+ The head of Morvan, that redoubted chief.
+ He pours some water on the matted front,
+ He laves it, wipes the hair from off its brow,
+ And cries ''Tis Morvan--'tis his Gallic lour!'"
+
+Thus Brittany, once lost to the Franks, is placed anew under their
+sway.
+
+
+
+
+EPILOGUE
+
+
+Vortigern, the grandson of Amael, wrote this account of the war of the
+Franks against Brittany. Left for dead on the banks of the Scoer, he did
+not recover his senses until a day and a night had passed after the
+defeat of the Bretons. Some Christian druids, led to the spot by
+Caswallan, who had escaped the massacre, came to the field of battle to
+gather the wounded who might still be alive. Vortigern was of the
+number. From them he learned that his sister Noblede, the wife of
+Morvan, together with other women and young girls who took refuge in the
+fortified enclosure, had stabbed themselves to death in order to escape
+being outraged by the Franks and led into slavery. After Abbot Witchaire
+left the house of Morvan on his return trip to announce to Louis the
+Pious the refusal of the Armorican Gauls to pay the tribute demanded
+from them, Vortigern returned with his wife and children to Karnak in
+order to gather in the crops from his fields. The harvest being in, he
+left his family at the house of his parents, and returned to Morvan in
+order to join the latter's forces, and oppose the army of Louis the
+Pious. Immediately after his wounds were healed, Vortigern returned to
+Karnak, where he rejoined his wife and children. The Franks had not
+dared push their invasion beyond the valley of Lokfern. They contented
+themselves with leaving Armorica devastated and stripped of her bravest
+defenders. Yet is she not subdued. She but waits the moment to revolt
+anew.
+
+Vortigern joined this narrative to the other narratives of his family,
+and he accompanied his own account with the two Carlovingian coins, the
+gift of Thetralde, one of the daughters of Charles the Great. These
+relics of the family of Joel now consist of Hena's little gold sickle,
+Guilhern's little brass bell, Sylvest's iron collar, Genevieve's silver
+cross, Shanvoch's casque's lark, Ronan the Vagre's poniard's hilt and
+his branding needle, Bonaik's abbatial crosier and Vortigern's
+Carlovingian coins, together with the narratives that accompany them.
+
+Myself, Rosneven, the oldest son of Vortigern, who make this entry at
+the foot of my father's narrative, can only record here my father's
+death on the fifth day of February of 889. These have been sad years for
+Brittany, and also for our own family in particular. Our special sorrows
+proceed from the estrangement of my younger brothers, one of whom left
+Gaul and sailed to the country of the Northman pirates. I lack both the
+spirit and the will to recite these lamentable events. Perhaps my
+youngest brother Gomer, gifted with more energy, ability and
+perseverance than myself, may some day undertake the task.
+
+THE END.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[A] "The daughters of the Emperor Charles always accompanied him on his
+trips into the interior of Gaul. They were handsome beauties; he loved
+them passionately; he never allowed them to marry, and kept them all
+with him till his death. Although happy in everything else, Charles
+experienced in them the malignity of adverse fortune; but he buried his
+chagrin, and behaved towards them as if they had never given cause for
+evil suspicions, and as if rumor had never been busy with their
+names."--_Chronicles of Eginhard, p. 145, Collected History of France._
+
+[B] For Amael's story, see "The Abbatial Crosier," the preceding book of
+the series.
+
+[C] "The Gallic woman equalled her husband in courage and strength. She
+sat in his councils of war with him. Her eyes were more furious when she
+was angered, and she swung her arms, as white as snow, and dealt blows
+as heavy as if they came from an engine of war."--Ammienus Marcellinus,
+_Notes of the Martyrs_, vol. XVIII, book IX.
+
+[D] "The heart of Louis the Pious (Charlemagne's son) was, naturally,
+long indignant at the conduct indulged in by his sisters under the
+paternal roof, the only blot upon its name. Desiring, then, to amend
+these disorders, he sent before him Walla, Warnaire, Lambert and
+Ingobert, with the order to watch carefully, as soon as they should
+arrive at Aix-la-Chapelle, that no new scandal should occur; and to put
+under heavy guard those who had soiled the majesty of the empire with a
+criminal commerce (with the daughters of the Emperor). Certain ones,
+guilty of these crimes, came before Louis the Pious to obtain pardon,
+which they received. Audoin alone resisted. He smote Warnaire that he
+died, wounded Lambert in the thigh, and slew himself with one blow of
+his sword.... Whereupon Louis the Pious decided to drive out of the
+palace all that multitude of women which occupied it in the time of his
+father."--L'Astronome, _Life of Louis the Pious_, pp. 345-346,
+_Collected History of France_.
+
+[E] See "The Casque's Lark."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Carlovingian Coins, by Eugène Sue
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+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+<title>
+ The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Carlovingian Coins, by Eugene Sue.
+</title>
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Carlovingian Coins, by Eugène Sue
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Carlovingian Coins
+ Or The Daughters of Charlemagne. A Tale of the Ninth Century
+
+Author: Eugène Sue
+
+Translator: Daniel De Leon
+
+Release Date: June 29, 2010 [EBook #33021]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CARLOVINGIAN COINS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was
+produced from scanned images of public domain material
+from the Google Print project.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h1 class="top15">THE CARLOVINGIAN COINS</h1>
+
+<div class="boxseries">
+<div class="boxdouble">
+<p class="full">THE FULL SERIES OF</p>
+
+<p class="c"><img src="images/ill_mysteries.png" alt="The Mysteries of the People" width="80%" /></p>
+
+<p class="c">OR</p>
+
+<p class="c">History of a Proletarian Family<br />Across the Ages</p>
+
+<table summary="line" style="border-top:double black 6px;">
+<tr><td class="space">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;
+By EUGENE SUE
+&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<p class="c"><i>Consisting of the Following Works:</i></p>
+
+<p class="nind"><b>THE GOLD SICKLE; or, <i>Hena the Virgin of the Isle of Sen</i>.<br />
+THE BRASS BELL; or, <i>The Chariot of Death</i>.<br />
+THE IRON COLLAR; or, <i>Faustine and Syomara</i>.<br />
+
+THE SILVER CROSS; or, <i>The Carpenter of Nazareth</i>.<br />
+THE CASQUE'S LARK; or, <i>Victoria, the Mother of the Camps</i>.<br />
+THE PONIARID'S HILT; or, <i>Karadeucq and Ronan</i>.<br />
+THE BRANDING NEEDLE; or, The <i>Monastery of Charolles</i>.<br />
+THE ABBATIAL CROSIER; or, <i>Bonaik and Septimine</i>.<br />
+
+THE CARLOVINGIAN COINS; or, <i>The Daughters of Charlemagne</i>.<br />
+THE IRON ARROW-HEAD; or, <i>The Buckler Maiden</i>.<br />
+THE INFANT'S SKULL; or, <i>The End of the World</i>.<br />
+THE PILGRIM'S SHELL; or, <i>Fergan the Quarryman</i>.<br />
+THE IRON PINCERS; or, <i>Mylio and Karvel</i>.<br />
+
+THE IRON TREVET; or Jocelyn the Champion.<br />
+THE EXECUTIONER'S KNIFE; or, Joan of Arc.<br />
+THE POCKET BIBLE; or, <i>Christian the Printer</i>.<br />
+THE BLACKSMITH'S HAMMER; or, <i>The Peasant Code</i>.<br />
+THE SWORD OF HONOR; or, <i>The Foundation of the French Republic</i>.<br />
+THE GALLEY SLAVE'S RING; or, <i>The Family Lebrenn</i>.</b></p>
+
+<div class="boxdouble space">
+<p class="c"><span class="sml">Published Uniform With This Volume By</span><br />
+THE NEW YORK LABOR NEWS CO.<br />
+<span class="sml">28 CITY HALL PLACE &nbsp; &nbsp; NEW YORK CITY</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="box">
+
+<div class="box2">
+
+<h1>THE CARLOVINGIAN<br />
+COINS</h1>
+
+<p class="c"><b>: : &nbsp; : : &nbsp;OR&nbsp; : : &nbsp; : :</b></p>
+
+<h2 style="margin-bottom:.5%;">THE DAUGHTERS OF CHARLEMAGNE</h2>
+
+<table summary="name" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0"
+style="border-bottom:6px double black;
+letter-spacing:8px;font-size:125%;margin-top:0%;">
+<tr><td>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;
+&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;
+&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;
+&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class="tale"><b>A Tale of the Ninth Century</b></p>
+
+<table summary="name" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0"
+style="border-top:4px double black;
+border-bottom:6px double black;">
+<tr><td class="space"><b>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;By EUGENE SUE&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</b></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<table summary="name" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0"
+style="border-bottom:6px double black;
+letter-spacing:8px;font-size:125%;margin-top:15%;">
+<tr><td>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;
+&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;
+&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;
+
+&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class="c sml space"><b>TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL FRENCH BY</b></p>
+
+<p class="c"><b>DANIEL DE LEON</b></p>
+
+<p class="c sml space"><b>NEW YORK LABOR NEWS COMPANY, 1907</b></p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<p class="c top5 sml">Copyright, 1908, by the<br />
+New York Labor News Company</p>
+
+<h3>INDEX</h3>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="contents">
+<tr><td align="left" colspan="2">TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_v">v</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center" class="part"><a href="#PART_I">PART I</a>&mdash;AIX-LA-CHAPELLE.</td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right">CHAPTER.</td><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I.</a></td><td>AMAEL AND VORTIGERN.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_003">3</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II.</a></td><td>THE COURTYARD OF THE PALACE.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_018">18</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III.</a></td><td>IN THE GALLERIES OF THE PALACE.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_024">24</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV.</a></td><td>CHARLEMAGNE.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_029">29</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V.</a></td><td>THE PALATINE SCHOOL.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_040">40</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI.</a></td><td>THE BISHOP OF LIMBURG.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_044">44</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII.</a></td><td>TO THE HUNT.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_054">54</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII.</a></td><td>THE FOREST OF OPPENHEIM.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_058">58</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX.</a></td><td>AT THE MORT.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_071">71</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X.</a></td><td>EMPEROR AND HOSTAGE.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_077">77</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI.</a></td><td>FRANK AND BRETON.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_088">88</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center" class="part"><a href="#PART_II">PART II</a>&mdash;THE CONQUEST OF BRITTANY.</td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_Ia">I.</a></td><td>IN THE BLACK MOUNTAINS.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_107">107</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IIa">II.</a></td><td>THE BRETON CHIEF.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_112">112</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IIIa">III.</a></td><td>ABBOT AND BRETON.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_120">120</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IVa">IV.</a></td><td>THE DEFILE OF GLEN-CLAN.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_132">132</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_Va">V.</a></td><td>THE MARSH OF PEULVEN.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_139">139</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIa">VI.</a></td><td>THE FOREST OF CARDIK.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_146">146</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIIa">VII.</a></td><td>THE MOOR OF KENNOR.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_151">151</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIIIa">VIII.</a></td><td>THE VALLEY OF LOKFERN.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_156">156</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td><a href="#EPILOGUE">EPILOGUE</a>.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_159">159</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p><a name="page_v" id="page_v"></a></p>
+
+<h3>TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE</h3>
+
+<p>The Age of Charlemagne is the watershed of the history of the present
+era. The rough barbarian flood that poured over Western Europe reaches
+in that age a turning point of which Charlemagne is eminently the
+incarnation. The primitive physical features of the barbarian begin to
+be blunted, or toned down by a new force that has lain latent in him,
+but that only then begins to step into activity&mdash;the spiritual, the
+intellectual powers. The Age of Charlemagne is the age of the first
+conflict between the intellectual and the brute in the principal
+branches of the races that occupied Europe. The conflict raged on a
+national scale, and it raged in each particular individual. The colossal
+stature, physical and mental, of Charlemagne himself typifies the epoch.
+Brute instincts of the most primitive and savage, intellectual
+aspirations of the loftiest are intermingled, each contends for
+supremacy&mdash;and alternately wins it, in the monarch, in his court and in
+his people.</p>
+
+<p><i>The Carlovingian Coins; or, The Daughters of Charlemagne</i> is the ninth
+of the brilliant series of historical novels written by Eugene Sue under
+the title, <i>The Mysteries of the People; or, History of a Proletarian
+Family Across the Ages</i>. The age and its people are portrayed in a
+charming and chaste narrative, that is fittingly and artistically
+brought to a close by a veritable epopee&mdash;the Frankish conquest of
+Brittany, and, as fittingly, serves to introduce the next epopee&mdash;the
+Northman's invasion of Gaul&mdash;dealt with in the following story, <i>The
+Iron Arrow Head; or, The Buckler Maiden</i>.</p>
+
+<p class="r"><span class="smcap">Daniel de Leon.</span></p>
+
+<p>New York, May, 1905.</p>
+
+<p><a name="page_001" id="page_001"></a></p>
+
+<h2 class="top15"><a name="PART_I" id="PART_I"></a>PART I.<br /><br />
+AIX-LA-CHAPELLE</h2>
+
+<p><a name="page_002" id="page_002"></a></p>
+
+<p><a name="page_003" id="page_003"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h3>
+
+<h4>AMAEL AND VORTIGERN.</h4>
+
+<p>Towards the commencement of the month of November of the year 811, a
+numerous cavalcade was one afternoon wending its way to the city of
+Aix-la-Chapelle, the capital of the Empire of Charles the Great&mdash;an
+Empire that had been so rapidly increased by rapidly succeeding
+conquests over Germany, Saxony, Bavaria, Bohemia, Hungary, Italy and
+Spain, that Gaul, as formerly during the days of the Roman Emperors, was
+again but a province among the vast domains. The ambitious designs of
+Charles Martel had been realized. Childeric, the last scion of the
+Merovingian dynasty, had been got rid of. Martel's descendants took his
+seat, and now the Hammerer's grandson wielded the sceptre of Clovis over
+an immensely wider territory.</p>
+
+<p>Eight or ten cavalry soldiers rode in advance of the cavalcade. A little
+apart from the smaller escort, four cavaliers ambled leisurely. Two of
+them wore brilliant armor after the German fashion. One of these was
+accompanied by a venerable old man of a martial and open countenance.
+His long beard, snow white as his hair that was half hidden under a fur
+cap, fell over his chest. He wore a Gallic blouse of grey wool, held
+around his waist by a belt, from which hung a long sword with an iron
+hilt. His ample hose of rough white fabric reached slightly below his
+knees and left exposed his tightly laced leather leggings, that ended in
+his boots whose heels were armed with spurs. The old man was Amael, who
+under the assumed Frankish name of Berthoald<a name="page_004" id="page_004"></a> had, eighty years before,
+saved the life of Charles Martel at the battle of Poitiers against the
+Arabs, had declined the post offered him by Charles, as jailer of the
+last descendant of Clovis, and, finally, smitten by conscience, had
+renounced wealth and dignity under the Frankish enslavers of Gaul, and
+returned to his people and country of Brittany, or Armorica, as the
+Romans named it. Amael now touched his hundredth year. His great age and
+his somewhat portly stature notwithstanding, he still looked full of
+vigor. He handled with dexterity the black horse that he rode and whose
+spirit seemed no wise abated by the long road it had traveled. From time
+to time, Amael turned round upon his saddle in order to cast a look of
+paternal solicitude upon his grandson Vortigern, a lad of hardly
+eighteen years, who was accompanied by the other of the two Frankish
+warriors. The face of Vortigern, of exceptional beauty for a man, was
+framed in long chestnut ringlets, that, escaping from his scarlet coif,
+tumbled down below a chin that was as dainty as a woman's. His large
+blue eyes, fringed with lashes black as his bold arched eyebrows, had an
+air at once ingenuous and resolute. His red lips, shaded by the down of
+adolescence, revealed at every smile two rows of teeth white as enamel.
+A slightly aquiline nose, a fresh and pure complexion somewhat tanned by
+the sun, completed the harmonious make-up of the youth's charming
+visage. His clothes, made after the fashion of his grandfather's,
+differed from them only in a touch of elegance that bespoke a mother's
+hand, tenderly proud of her son's comely appearance. Accordingly, the
+blue blouse of the lad was ornamented around the neck, over the
+shoulders and at the extremities of the sleeves with embroideries of
+white wool, while a calfskin belt, from which hung a sword with
+polished<a name="page_005" id="page_005"></a> hilt, encircled his supple waist. His linen hose half hid his
+deerskin leggings, that were tightly laced to his nervy limbs and
+rejoined his boots, made of tanned skin and equipped with large copper
+spurs that glistened like gold. Although his right arm was held in a
+scarf of some black material, Vortigern handled his horse with his left
+hand with as much ease as skill. For traveling companion he had a young
+warrior of agreeable mien, bold and mercurial, alert and frolicsome. The
+mobility of his face recalled in nothing the stolidity of the German.
+His name was Octave. Roman by birth, in appearance and character, his
+inexhaustible Southern wit often succeeded in unwrinkling the brow of
+his young companion. The latter, however, would soon again relapse into
+a sort of silent and somber revery. Thus for some time absorbed in
+sadness, he walked his horse slowly, when Octave broke in gaily in a
+tone of friendly reproach:</p>
+
+<p>"By Bacchus! You still are preoccupied and silent."</p>
+
+<p>"I am thinking of my mother," answered the youth, smothering a sigh. "I
+am thinking of my mother, of my sister and of my country."</p>
+
+<p>"Come now; you should, on the contrary, chase away, such saddening
+thoughts. To the devil with sadness. Long live joy."</p>
+
+<p>"Octave, gayness ill beseems a prisoner. I cannot share your
+light-heartedness."</p>
+
+<p>"You are no prisoner, only a hostage. No bond binds you but your own
+word; prisoners, on the contrary, are led firmly pinioned to the slave
+market. Your grandfather and yourself ride freely, with us for your
+companions, and we are escorting you, not to a slave market, but to the
+palace of the Emperor Charles the Great, the mightiest monarch of the
+whole<a name="page_006" id="page_006"></a> world. Finally, prisoners are disarmed; your grandfather as well
+as yourself carry your swords."</p>
+
+<p>"Of what use are our swords now to us?" replied Vortigern with painful
+bitterness. "Brittany is vanquished."</p>
+
+<p>"Such are the chances of war. You bravely did your duty as a soldier.
+You fought like a demon at the side of your grandfather. He was not
+wounded, and you only received a lance-thrust. By Mars, the valiant god
+of war, your blows were so heavy in the melee that you should have been
+hacked to pieces."</p>
+
+<p>"We would not then have survived the disgrace of Armorica."</p>
+
+<p>"There is no disgrace in being overcome when one has defended himself
+bravely&mdash;above all when the forces that one resisted and decimated, were
+the veteran bands of the great Charles."</p>
+
+<p>"Not one of your Emperor's soldiers should have escaped."</p>
+
+<p>"Not one?" merrily rejoined the young Roman. "What, not even myself? Not
+even I, who take such pains to be a pleasant traveling companion, and
+who tax my eloquence to entertain you? Verily, you are not at all
+grateful!"</p>
+
+<p>"Octave, I do not hate you personally; I hate your race; they have,
+without provocation, carried war and desolation into my country."</p>
+
+<p>"First of all, my young friend, I am not of the Frankish race. I am a
+Roman. Gladly do I relinquish to you those gross Germans, who are as
+savage as the bears of their forests. But, let it be said among
+ourselves, this war against Brittany was not without reason. Did not you
+Bretons, possessed of the very devil as you are, attack last year and
+exterminate the Frankish garrison posted at Vannes?"<a name="page_007" id="page_007"></a></p>
+
+<p>"And by what right did Charles cause our frontiers to be invaded by his
+troops twenty-five years ago? His whim stood him instead of right."</p>
+
+<p>The conversation between Vortigern and Octave was interrupted by the
+voice of Amael, who, turning in his saddle, called his grandson to him.
+The latter, anxious to hasten to his grandfather, and also yielding to
+an impulse of anger that the discussion with the young Roman had
+provoked, brusquely clapped his spurs to the flanks of his charger. The
+animal, thus suddenly urged, leaped forward so violently that in two or
+three bounds it would have left Amael behind, had not Vortigern,
+restraining his mount with a firm hand, made the animal rear on its
+haunches. The youth then resumed his walk abreast of his grandfather and
+the other Frankish warrior, who, turning to the old man, remarked:</p>
+
+<p>"I do not marvel at the superiority of your Breton cavalry, when a lad
+of the age of your grandson, and despite the wound that must smart him,
+can handle his horse in such a manner. You yourself, for a centenarian,
+are as firm in your saddle as the lad himself. Horns of the devil!"</p>
+
+<p>"The lad was barely five years old when his father and I used to place
+him on the back of the colts raised on our meadows," answered the old
+man. The recollection of those peaceful happy days now ended, cast a
+shadow of sorrow upon Amael's face. He remained silent for a moment.
+Thereupon, addressing Vortigern, he said:</p>
+
+<p>"I called you to inquire whether your wound had ceased smarting."</p>
+
+<p>"Grandfather, I hardly feel it any longer. If you allow me, I would free
+my arm of the embarrassing scarf."<a name="page_008" id="page_008"></a></p>
+
+<p>"No; your wound might open again. No imprudence. Remember your mother,
+and also your sister and her husband, both of whom love you like a
+brother."</p>
+
+<p>"Alas! Will I never see that mother, that sister, that brother whom I
+love so dearly?"</p>
+
+<p>"Patience!" answered Amael in an undertone, so as not to be heard by the
+Frankish warrior at his side. "You may see Brittany again a good deal
+sooner than you expect&mdash;prudence and patience!"</p>
+
+<p>"Truly?" inquired the youth impetuously. "Oh, grandfather, what
+happiness!"</p>
+
+<p>The old man made a sign to Vortigern to control himself, and then
+proceeded aloud: "I am always afraid lest the fatigue of traveling
+inflame your wound anew. Fortunately, we must be approaching the end of
+our journey. Not so, Hildebrad?" he added, turning to the warrior.</p>
+
+<p>"Before sunset we shall be at Aix-la-Chapelle," answered the Frank. "But
+for the hill that we are about to ascend, you could see the city at a
+distance."</p>
+
+<p>"Return to your companion, my child," said Amael; "above all, place your
+arm back in its scarf, and be careful how you manage your horse. A
+too-sudden lurch might re-open the wound that is barely closed."</p>
+
+<p>The young man obeyed and gently walked his horse back to Octave. Thanks
+to the mobility of the impressions of youth, Vortigern felt appeased and
+comforted by the words of his grandfather that had made him look forward
+to a speedy return to his family and country. The soothing thought was
+so visibly reflected in his candid features that Octave met him with the
+merry remark:</p>
+
+<p>"What a magician that grandfather of yours must be!<a name="page_009" id="page_009"></a> You rode off
+preoccupied and fretful, angrily burying your spurs into the flanks of
+your horse, who, poor animal, had done nothing to excite your wrath.
+Now, behold! You return as placid as a bishop astride of his mule."</p>
+
+<p>"The magic of my grandfather has chased away my sadness. You speak
+truly, Octave."</p>
+
+<p>"So much the better. I shall now be free, without fear of reviving your
+chagrin, to give a loose to the increasing joy that I feel at every
+step."</p>
+
+<p>"Why does your joy increase at every step, my dear companion?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because even the dullest horse becomes livelier and more spirited in
+the measure that he approaches the house where he knows that he will
+find provender."</p>
+
+<p>"Octave, I did not know you for such a glutton!"</p>
+
+<p>"In that case, my looks are deceptive, because a glutton, that am
+I&mdash;terribly gluttonous of those delicate dainties that are found only at
+court, and that constitute my provender."</p>
+
+<p>"What!" exclaimed Vortigern ingenuously. "Is that great Emperor, whose
+name fills the world, surrounded by a court where nothing is thought of
+but dainties and gluttony?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, of course," answered Octave gravely and hardly able to refrain
+from laughing outright at the innocence of the young Breton. "Why, of
+course. And what is more, more so than any of the counts, of the dukes,
+of the men of learning, and of the bishops at court, does the Emperor
+himself lust after the dainties that I have in mind. He always keeps a
+room contiguous to his own full of them. Because in the stillness of the
+night&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"He rises to eat cakes and, perhaps, even sweetmeats!" exclaimed the lad
+with disdain, while Octave, unable longer to<a name="page_010" id="page_010"></a> contain himself, was
+laughing in his face. "I can think of nothing more unbecoming than
+guzzling on the part of one who governs empires!"</p>
+
+<p>"What's to be done, Vortigern? Great princes must be pardoned for some
+pecadillos. Moreover, with them it is a family failing&mdash;the daughters of
+the Emperor&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"His daughters also are given to this ugly passion for gormandizing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Alas! They are no less gluttonous than their father. They have six or
+seven dainties of their own&mdash;most appetizing and most appetized."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, fie!" cried Vortigern. "Fie. Have they perhaps, also next to their
+bed-chambers, whole rooms stocked with dainties?"</p>
+
+<p>"Calm your legitimate indignation, my boiling-over friend. Young girls
+can not allow themselves quite so much comfort. That's good enough for
+the Emperor Charles, who is no longer nimble on his legs. He is getting
+along in years. He has the gout in his left foot, and his girth is
+enormous."</p>
+
+<p>"That is not to be wondered at. Bound is the stomach to protrude with
+such a gourmand!"</p>
+
+<p>"You will understand that being so heavy on his feet, this mighty
+Emperor is not able, like his daughters, to snatch at a stray dainty on
+the wing, like birdies in an orchard, who nibble lovingly here at a red
+cherry, there at a blushing apple, yonder at a bunch of gilded grapes.
+No, no; with his august paunch and his gouty foot, the august Charles
+would be wholly unable to snap the dainties on the wing. The attention
+due to his empire would lose too much. Hence the Emperor keeps near at
+hand, within easy reach, a room full of dainties, where, at night, he
+finds his provender&mdash;"<a name="page_011" id="page_011"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Octave!" exclaimed Vortigern, interrupting the young Roman with a
+haughty mien. "I do not wish to be trifled with. At first, I took your
+words seriously. The laughter that you are hardly able to repress, and
+that despite yourself breaks out at frequent intervals, shows me that
+you are trifling with me."</p>
+
+<p>"Come, my brave lad, do not wax angry. I am not bantering. Only that,
+out of respect for the candor of your age, I have used a figure of
+speech to tell the truth. In short, the dainty that I, Charles, his
+daughters, and, by Venus! everybody at court lusts after more or less
+greedily is&mdash;love!"</p>
+
+<p>"Love," echoed Vortigern, blushing and for the first time dropping his
+eyes before Octave; but as his uneasiness increased, he proceeded to
+inquire: "But, in order to enjoy love, the daughters of Charles are
+surely married?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, innocence of the Golden Age! Oh, Armorican naïveness! Oh, Gallic
+chastity!" cried Octave. But noticing that the young Breton frowned at
+hearing his native land ridiculed, the Roman proceeded: "Far be it from
+me to jest about your brave country. I shall tell you without further
+circumlocution&mdash;I shall tell you that Charles' daughters are not
+married; for reasons that he has never cared to explain to anyone, he
+never has wanted them to have a husband."<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p>
+
+<p>"Out of pride, no doubt!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, oh, on that subject many things are said. The long and short of it
+is that he does not wish to part with them.<a name="page_012" id="page_012"></a> He adores them, and, except
+he goes to war, he always has them near him during his journeys, along
+with his concubines&mdash;or, if you prefer the term, his 'dainties.' The
+word may be less shocking to your prudery. You must know that after
+having successively married and discarded his five wives, Desiderata,
+Hildegarde, Fustrade, Himiltrude and Luitgarde, the Emperor provided
+himself with an assortment of dainties, from which assortment I shall
+mention to you incidentally the juicy Mathalgarde, the sugary
+Gerswinthe, the tart Regina, the toothsome Adalinde&mdash;not to mention many
+other saints on this calendar of love. For you must know that the great
+Charles resembles the great Solomon not in wisdom only; he resembles him
+also in his love for <i>seraglios</i>, as the Arabs call them. But, by the
+way of the Emperor's daughters. Listen to a little tale. Imma, one of
+these young princesses, was a charming girl. One fine day she became
+smitten with Charles' archchaplain, named Eginhard. An archchaplain
+being, of course, arch-amorous, Imma received Eginhard every night
+secretly in her chamber&mdash;to discuss chapel affairs, I surmise. Now,
+then, it so happened that during one winter's night there fell so very
+much snow that the ground was all covered. A little before dawn,
+Eginhard takes his departure from his lady-love; but just as he is about
+to climb down from the window&mdash;an ordinary route with lovers&mdash;he beholds
+by the light of a superb full moon that the ground is one sheet of white
+snow. To himself he thinks: 'Imma and I are lost! I cannot get out
+without leaving the imprint of my steps in the snow'&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And what did he do?" asked Vortigern, more and more interested in the
+story that threw an undefined sense of uneasiness<a name="page_013" id="page_013"></a> in his heart. "How
+did the two escape from their perilous plight, the poor lovers!"</p>
+
+<p>"Imma, a robustious doxy, a girl both of head and resolution, descends
+by the window, bravely takes the archchaplain on her back, and, without
+tripping under the beloved burden, crosses a wide courtyard that
+separates her quarters from one of the corridors of the palace. Although
+weighted down by an archchaplain, Imma had such small feet that the
+traces left by them could not choose but keep suspicion away from
+Eginhard. Unfortunately, however, as you will discover when you arrive
+at Aix-la-Chapelle, the Emperor is possessed of a demon of curiosity,
+and has had his palace so constructed that, from a kind of terrace,
+contiguous to his own room and which dominates the rest of the
+buildings, he is able to discover as from an observatory, all who enter,
+go out, or cross the open space. Now, then, the Emperor, who frequently
+rises at night, saw, thanks to the brilliant moonlight, his daughter
+crossing the yard with the amorous fardel."</p>
+
+<p>"Charles' anger must have been terrible!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, terrible for an instant. Soon, however, no doubt greatly elated at
+having procreated a maid who was able to carry an archchaplain on her
+back, the august Emperor pardoned the guilty couple. After that they
+lived lovingly in peace and joy."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet that archchaplain was a priest? What of the sanctity of the
+clergy!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ho, ho! my young friend. The Emperor's daughters are far from failing
+in esteem for priests. Bertha, another of his daughters, desperately
+esteems Enghilbert, the handsome Abbot of St. Riquier. Fairness,
+nevertheless, compels me to admit that one of Bertha's sisters, named
+Adeltrude,<a name="page_014" id="page_014"></a> esteemed with no less vehemence Count Lambert, one of the
+most intrepid officers of the imperial army. As to little Rothailde,
+another of the Emperor's daughters, she did not withhold her lively
+esteem from Romuald, who made his name glorious in our wars against
+Bohemia. I shall not speak of the other princesses. It is fully six
+months that I have been away from court. I would be afraid to do them
+injustice. Nevertheless, I am free to say that the Crosier and the Sword
+have generally contended with each other for the amorous tenderness of
+the daughters of Charles. Yet I must except Thetralde, the youngest of
+the set. She is still too much of a novice to esteem any one. She is
+barely fifteen. She is a flower, or rather, the bud of a flower that is
+about to blossom. I never have seen anything more charming. When I last
+departed from the court Thetralde gave promise of eclipsing all her
+sisters and nieces with the sweetness and freshness of her beauty,
+because, and I had forgotten this detail, my dear friend, the daughters
+of Charles' sons are brought up with his own daughters; and are no less
+charming than their aunts. You will see them all. Your admiration will
+have but to choose between Adelaid, Atula, Gonarade, Bertha or
+Theodora."</p>
+
+<p>"What! Do all these young girls inhabit the Emperor's palace?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, without counting their servants, their governesses, their
+chambermaids, their readers, their singers and innumerable other women
+of their retinue. By Venus! My Adonis, there are more petticoats to be
+seen in the imperial palace than cuirasses or priests' gowns. The
+Emperor loves as much to be surrounded by women as by soldiers and
+abbots, without forgetting the learned men, the rhetoricians, the
+dialecticians,<a name="page_015" id="page_015"></a> the instructors, the peripatetic pedagogues and the
+grammarians. The great Charles, as you must know, is as passionately
+fond of grammar as of love, war, the chase, or choir chants. In his
+grammarian's ardor, the Emperor invents words&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"What!"</p>
+
+<p>"Just as I am telling you. For instance: How do you call in the Gallic
+tongue the month in which we now are?"</p>
+
+<p>"The month of November."</p>
+
+<p>"So do we Italians, barbarians that we are! But the Emperor has changed
+all that by virtue of his own sovereign and grammatical will. His
+peoples, provided they can obey him without the words strangling them,
+are to say, instead of November, 'Herbismanoth'; instead of October,
+Windumnermanoth.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Octave, you are trying to make merry at my expense."</p>
+
+<p>"Instead of March, 'Lenzhimanoth'; instead of May&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Enough! enough! for pity's sake!" cried Vortigern. "Those barbarous
+names make me shiver. What! can there be throats in existence able to
+articulate such sounds?"</p>
+
+<p>"My young friend, Frankish throats are capable of everything. I warn
+you, prepare your ears for the most uncouth concert of raucous,
+guttural, savage words that you ever heard, unless you have ever heard
+frogs croaking, tom-cats squalling, bulls bellowing, asses braying,
+stags belling and wolves howling&mdash;all at once! Excepting the Emperor
+himself and his family, who can somewhat handle the Roman and the Gallic
+languages, the only two languages, in short, that are human, you will
+hear nothing spoken but Frankish at that German court where everything
+is German, that is to say, barbarous; the language, the customs, the
+manners,<a name="page_016" id="page_016"></a> the meals, the dress. In short, Aix-la-Chapelle is no longer
+in Gaul. It now lies in Germany absolutely."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet Charles reigns over Gaul!&mdash;is not that enough of a disgrace for
+my country? The Emperor who governs us by no right other than conquest,
+is surrounded with a Frankish court, and with officers and generals of
+the same stock, who do not deign even to speak our tongue. Shame and
+disgrace to us!"</p>
+
+<p>"There you are at it again, plunging anew into sadness. Vortigern! By
+Bacchus! Why do you not imitate my philosophy of indifference? Does,
+perchance, my race not descend from that haughty Roman stock that made
+the world to tremble only a few centuries ago? Have I not seen the
+throne of the Caesars occupied by hypocritical, ambitious, greedy and
+debauched Popes, with their black-gowned and tonsured militia? Have not
+the descendants of our haughty Roman Emperors gone in their imbecile
+idleness to vegetate in Constantinople, where they still indulge the
+dreams of Universal Empire? Have not the Catholic priests chased from
+their Olympus the charmful deities of our fathers? Have they not torn
+down, mutilated and ravished the temples, statues, altars&mdash;the
+master-works of the divine art of Rome and Greece? Go to, Vortigern, and
+follow my example! Instead of fretting over a ship-wrecked past, let's
+drink and forget! Let our fair mistresses be our Saints, and their
+couches our altars! Let our Eucharist be a flower-decked cup, and for
+liturgy, let's sing the amorous couplets of Tibullus, of Ovid, and of
+Horace. Yes, indeed, and take my advice: let's drink, love and enjoy
+life! That's truly to live! You will never again come across such an
+opportunity. The gods of joy are sending you to the Emperor's court."<a name="page_017" id="page_017"></a></p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" queried Vortigern almost mechanically, and feeling
+his inexperienced sense, though not perverted, yet dazzled by the facile
+and sensuous philosophy of Octave. "What would you have one become in
+the midst of that court so strange to me, who have been brought up in
+our rustic Brittany?"</p>
+
+<p>"Child that you are! A swarm of beautiful eyes will be focused upon
+you!"</p>
+
+<p>"Octave, you are mocking again. Am I to be taken notice of? I, a field
+laborer's son? I, a poor Breton prisoner on parole?"</p>
+
+<p>"And do you think your reputation for a bedevilled Breton goes for
+nothing? More than once have I heard told of the furious curiosity with
+which, about twenty-five years ago, the hostages taken to
+Aix-la-Chapelle, at the time of the first war against your country,
+inspired everyone at court. The most charming women wished to behold
+those indomitable Bretons whom only the great Charles had been able to
+vanquish. Their haughty and rude mien, the interest centred in their
+defeat, everything, down to their strange costumes, drew upon them the
+looks and the sympathy of the women, who, in Germany, are ever strongly
+prone to love. The fascinating enthusiasts of then are now become
+mothers and grandfathers. But, happily, they have daughters and
+grand-daughters who are fully able to appreciate you. I can assure you
+that I, who know the court and its ways, had I only your youth, your
+good looks, your wound, your graceful horsemanship and your renown as a
+Breton, would guarantee myself the lover of all those beauties, and that
+within a week."<a name="page_018" id="page_018"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h3>
+
+<h4>THE COURTYARD OF THE PALACE.</h4>
+
+<p>The conversation between the young Roman and Vortigern was at this point
+interrupted by Amael, who, turning back to his grandson and extending
+his arm towards the horizon said to him:</p>
+
+<p>"Look yonder, my child; that is the Queen of the cities of the Empire of
+Charles the Great&mdash;the city of Aix-la-Chapelle."</p>
+
+<p>Vortigern hastened to join his grandfather, whose eyes he now, perhaps
+for the first time, sought to avoid with not a little embarrassment.
+Octave's words sounded wrong on his ears, even dangerous; and he
+reproached himself for having listened to them with some pleasure.
+Having reached Amael, Vortigern cast his eyes in the direction pointed
+out by the old man, and saw at still a great distance an imposing mass
+of buildings, close to which rose the high steeple of a basilica.
+Presently, he distinguished the roofs and terraces of a cluster of
+houses dimly visible through the evening mist and stretching out along
+the horizon. It was the Emperor's palace and the basilica of
+Aix-la-Chapelle. Vortigern contemplated with curiosity the, to him, new
+panorama, while Hildebrad, who had cantered ahead to make some inquiries
+from a cartman coming from the city, now returned to the Bretons,
+saying:</p>
+
+<p>"The Emperor is hourly expected at the palace. The forerunners have
+announced his approach. He is coming from a<a name="page_019" id="page_019"></a> journey in the north of
+Gaul. Let's hasten to ride in ahead of him so that we may salute him on
+his arrival."</p>
+
+<p>The riders quickened their horses' steps, and before sunset they were
+entering the outer court of the palace&mdash;a vast space surrounded by many
+lodges of variously shaped roofs and architecture, and furnished with
+innumerable windows. Agreeable to a unique plan, with many of these
+structures the ground floor was wholly open and had the appearance of a
+shed whose massive stone pillars supported the masonry of the upper
+tiers of floors. A crowd of subaltern officers, of servants, and slaves
+of the palace, lived and lodged under these sheds, open to the four
+winds of heaven and heated in winter by means of large furnaces that
+were kept lighted night and day. This bizarre architecture was conceived
+by the ingenuity of the Emperor. It enabled him, from his observatory,
+to see with all the greater ease all that happened in these wall-less
+apartments. Several long corridors, profusely ornamented with richly
+sculptured columns and porticos after the fashion of Rome, connected
+with another set of buildings. A square pavilion, raised considerably
+above ground, dominated the system of structures. Octave called
+Vortigern's attention to a sort of balcony located in front of the
+pavilion. It was the Emperor's observatory. Everywhere a general stir
+announced the approaching arrival of Charles. Clerks, soldiers, women,
+officers, rhetoricians, monks and slaves crossed one another in great
+haste, while several bishops, anxious to present the first homages to
+the Emperor, were speeding towards the peristyle of the palace. So
+instantly was the Emperor expected and such was the hurly at the event,
+that when the cavalcade, of which Vortigern and his grandfather were a
+part, entered the court, several<a name="page_020" id="page_020"></a> people, deceived by the martial
+appearance of the troupe, began to cry: "The Emperor!" "Here is the
+Emperor's escort!" The cry flew from mouth to mouth, and in an instant
+the spacious court was filled with a compact mass of servitors and
+pursuivants, through which the escort of the two Bretons was hardly able
+to break its way in order to reach a place near the principal portico.
+Hildebrad had chosen the spot in order to be among the first to meet
+Charles and to present to him the hostages whom he brought from
+Brittany. The crowd discovered its mistake in acclaiming the Emperor,
+but the false rumor had penetrated the palace and immediately the
+concubines of Charles, his daughters and grand-daughters, their servants
+and attendants, rushed out and grouped themselves on a spacious terrace
+above the portico, near which the two Bretons, together with their
+escort, had taken their stand.</p>
+
+<p>"Raise your eyes, Vortigern," Octave said to his companion. "Look and
+see what a bevy of beauties the Emperor's palace contains."</p>
+
+<p>Blushing, the young Breton glanced towards the terrace and remained
+struck with astonishment at the sight of some twenty-five or thirty
+women, all of whom were either daughters or grand-daughters of Charles,
+together with his concubines. They were clad in the Frankish fashion,
+and presented the most seductive variety of faces, color of hair, shapes
+and beauty imaginable. There were among them brunettes and blondes,
+women of reddish and of auburn hair, some tall, others stout, and yet
+others thin and slender. It was a complete display of Germanic feminine
+types&mdash;from the tender maid up to the stately matron of forty years. The
+eyes of Vortigern fell with preference upon a girl of not more than
+fifteen, clad in a tunic of pale green embroidered<a name="page_021" id="page_021"></a> with silver. Nothing
+sweeter could be imagined than her rosy and fresh face crowned and set
+off by long and thick strands of blonde hair; her delicate neck, white
+as a swan's, seemed to undulate under the weight of her magnificent head
+of hair. Another maid of about twenty years&mdash;a pronounced brunette,
+robust, with challenging eyes, black hair, and clad in a tunic of
+orange&mdash;leaned on the balustrade, supporting her chin in one hand, close
+to the younger blonde, on whose shoulders she familiarly rested her
+right arm. Each held in her hand a nose-gay of rosemary, whose fragrance
+they inhaled from time to time, all the while conversing in a low voice
+and contemplating the group of riders with increasing curiosity. They
+had learned that the escort was not the Emperor's, but that it brought
+the Breton hostages.</p>
+
+<p>"Give thanks to my friendship, Vortigern," Octave whispered to the lad.
+"I am going to place you in evidence, and to display you at your true
+worth." Saying this, Octave covertly gave Vortigern's horse such a sharp
+touch of his whip under the animal's belly that, had the Breton been
+less of a horseman, he had been thrown by the violence of the bound made
+by his mount. Thus unexpectedly stung, the animal reared, poised himself
+dangerously for a moment and then leaped so high that Vortigern's coif
+grazed the bottom of the terrace where the group of women stood. The
+blonde young girl grew pale with terror, and hiding her face in her
+hands, exclaimed: "Unhappy lad! He is killed! Poor young man!"</p>
+
+<p>Yielding to the impulse of his age as well as to a sense of pride at
+finding himself the object of the attention of the crowd that was
+gathered around him, Vortigern severely chastised his horse, whose leaps
+and bounds threatened to become<a name="page_022" id="page_022"></a> dangerous. But the lad, preserving his
+presence of mind and drawing upon his skill, displayed so much grace and
+vigor in the struggle, despite his right arm's being held in the scarf,
+that the crowd wildly clapped its hands and cried: "Glory to the
+Breton!" "Honor to the Breton!" Two bouquets of rosemary fell, at that
+moment, at the feet of the horse that, brought at last under control,
+champed his bit and pawed the ground with his hoofs. Vortigern raised
+his head towards the terrace whence the bouquets had just been thrown at
+him, when a formidable din arose from a distance, followed immediately
+by the cry, echoed and re-echoed: "The Emperor!" "The Emperor!"</p>
+
+<p>At the announcement, all the women forthwith left the balcony to descend
+and receive the monarch under the portico of the palace.</p>
+
+<p>While the crowd swayed back and forward, crying: "Long live Charles!"
+"Long live Charles the Great!" the grandson of Amael saw a troop of
+riders approaching at a gallop. They might have been taken for
+equestrian statues of iron. Mounted upon chargers caparisoned in iron,
+their own iron casques hid their faces; cuirassed in iron and gloved in
+iron, they wore leggings of iron, and bucklers of the same metal. The
+last rays of the westering sun shone from the points of their iron
+lances. In short, nothing was heard but the clash of iron. At the head
+of these cavaliers, whom he preceded, and, like them, cased in iron from
+head to foot, rode a man of colossal stature. Hardly arrived before the
+principal portico, he alighted slowly from his horse and ran limping
+towards the group of women who there awaited him, calling out to them,
+as he ran, in a little shrill and squeaky voice that contrasted
+strangely with his enormous build:<a name="page_023" id="page_023"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Good-day, little ones. Good-day, dear daughters. Good-day to all of
+you, my darlings." Without giving any heed to the cheers of the crowd
+and to the respectful salutations of the bishops and other dignitaries,
+who hurried to meet him, the Emperor Charles, that giant in iron,
+disappeared within the palace, followed by his feminine cohort.<a name="page_024" id="page_024"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h3>
+
+<h4>IN THE GALLERIES OF THE PALACE.</h4>
+
+<p>Amael and his grandson were lodged in one of the upper chambers of the
+palace, whither they were conducted by Hildebrad to rest after the
+fatigue of their recent journey. Supper was served to them and they were
+left to retire for the night.</p>
+
+<p>At break of day the next morning, Octave knocked at the door of the two
+Bretons and informed them that the Emperor wished to see them. The Roman
+urged Vortigern to clothe himself at his best. The Breton lad had not
+much to choose from. He had with him only two suits of clothes, the one
+he wore on the journey, another, green of color and embroidered with
+orange wool. This notwithstanding, thanks to the fresh and new clothes,
+in which the colors were harmoniously blended and which enhanced the
+attractiveness of the charming face as well as the gracefulness of his
+supple stature, Vortigern seemed to the critical eyes of Octave worthy
+of making an honorable appearance before the mightiest Emperor in the
+world. The centenarian could not restrain a smile at hearing the praises
+bestowed upon the figure of his grandson by the young Roman, who advised
+him to draw tighter the belt of his sword, claiming that, if one's
+figure is good, it was but right to exhibit it. While giving<a name="page_025" id="page_025"></a> his
+advices to Vortigern in his wonted good humor, Octave whispered in his
+friend's ear:</p>
+
+<p>"Did you notice yesterday the nose-gays that fell at the feet of your
+horse? Did you notice who the girls were from whom the bouquets came?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think I did," stammered the young Breton in answer, and he blushed to
+the roots of his hair, while despite himself, his thoughts flew to the
+charming young blonde. "It seems to me," he added, "that I saw the two
+bouquets fall."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it seems to you, hypocrite! Nevertheless, it was my whip that
+brought down the two bouquets! And do you know what imperial hands it
+was that threw them down in homage to your address and courage?"</p>
+
+<p>"Were the bouquets thrown down by imperial hands?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, indeed, seeing that Thetralde, the timid blonde child and
+Hildrude, the tall and bold brunette, are both daughters of Charles. One
+of them was dressed in a green robe of the color of your blouse, the
+other in orange of the color of your embroidery. By Venus! Are you not a
+favored mortal? Two conquests at one clap!"</p>
+
+<p>Engaged at the other end of the chamber, Amael did not overhear the
+words of Octave that were turning Vortigern's face as scarlet as the
+color of his chaperon's cloak. The preparations for the presentation
+being concluded, the two hostages followed their guide to appear before
+the Emperor. After crossing an infinite number of passages and mounting
+and descending an equal number of stairs, in all of which they
+encountered more women than men, the number of women lodged in the
+Imperial Palace being prodigious, the Bretons were led through vast
+halls. To describe the sumptuous magnificence of these galleries would
+be no less impossible<a name="page_026" id="page_026"></a> than to enumerate the pictures with which their
+halls were ornamented. Artisans, brought from Constantinople, where, at
+the time, the school of Byzantine painting flourished, had covered the
+walls with gigantic designs. In one place the conquests of Cyrus over
+the Persians were displayed; at another, the atrocities of the tyrant
+Phalaris, witnessing the agonies of his victims, who were led to be
+burned alive in a brass caldron red with heat; at still another place,
+the founding of Rome by Romulus and Remus was reproduced; the conquests
+of Alexander and Hannibal, and many other heroic subjects. One of the
+galleries of the palace was consecrated wholly to the battles of Charles
+Martel. He was seen triumphing over Saxons and Arabs, who, chained at
+his feet, implored his clemency. So striking was the resemblance that
+while crossing the hall Amael cried out:</p>
+
+<p>"It is he! Those are his features! That was his bearing! He lives again!
+It is Charles!"</p>
+
+<p>"One would think you recognize an old acquaintance," observed the young
+Roman, smiling. "Are you renewing your acquaintance with Charles
+Martel?"</p>
+
+<p>"Octave," answered the old man melancholically, "I am one hundred years
+old&mdash;I fought at the battle of Poitiers against the Arabs."</p>
+
+<p>"Among the troops of Charles Martel?"</p>
+
+<p>"I saved his life," answered Amael, contemplating the gigantic picture;
+and speaking to himself, he proceeded with a sigh: "Oh, how many
+recollections, sweet and sad, do not those days bring back to me! My
+beloved mother, my sweet Septimine!"</p>
+
+<p>Octave regarded the old man with increasing astonishment, but, suddenly
+collecting himself, he grew pensive and hastened<a name="page_027" id="page_027"></a> his steps, followed by
+the two hostages. Dazzled by the sights before him Vortigern examined
+with the curiosity of his age the riches of all kinds that were heaped
+up all around him. He could not refrain from stopping before two objects
+that attracted his attention above all others. The first was a piece of
+furniture of precious wood enriched with gilt mouldings. Pipes of
+copper, brass and tin, of different thicknesses rose above each other in
+tiers on one side of the wooden structure. "Octave," asked the young
+Breton, "what kind of furniture is this?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is a Greek organ that was recently sent to Charles by the Emperor of
+Constantinople. The instrument is truly marvelous. With the aid of brass
+vessels and of bellows made of ox-hides, which are concealed from view,
+the air enters these tubes, and, when they are played upon, one time you
+think you hear the rumbling of thunder, another time, the gentle notes
+of the lyre or of cymbals. But look yonder, near that large table of
+massive gold where the city of Constantinople is drawn in relief, there
+you see no less ingenious an object. It is a Persian clock, sent to the
+Emperor only four years ago by Abdhallah, the King of Persia." Saying
+this, Octave pointed out to the young Breton and his grandfather, who
+became no less interested than Vortigern himself, a large time-piece of
+gilt bronze. Figures denoting the twelve hours surrounded the dial,
+which was placed in the centre of a miniature palace made of bronze, and
+likewise gilt. Twelve gates built in arcades were seen at the foot of
+the monumental imitation. "When the hour strikes," Octave explained to
+the Bretons, "a certain number of brass balls, equal in number to the
+hour, drop upon a little cymbal. At the same moment, these gates fly
+open, as many of them as<a name="page_028" id="page_028"></a> the corresponding hour, and out of each a
+cavalier, armed with lance and shield, rides forth. If it strikes one,
+two or three o'clock, one, two or three gates open, the cavaliers ride
+out, salute with their lances, return within, and the gates close upon
+them."</p>
+
+<p>"This is truly a marvelous contrivance!" exclaimed Amael. "And are the
+names of the men known who fashioned these prodigies around us, these
+magnificent paintings, that gold table where a whole city is reproduced
+in relief, this organ, this clock, in short, all these marvels! Surely
+their authors must have been glorified!"</p>
+
+<p>"By Bacchus, Amael, your question is droll," answered Octave smiling.
+"Who cares for the names of the obscure slaves who have produced these
+articles?"</p>
+
+<p>"But the names of Clovis, of Brunhild, of Clotaire, of Charles Martel
+will survive the ages!" murmured the centenarian bitterly to himself,
+while the young Roman remarked to Vortigern:</p>
+
+<p>"Let us hurry; the Emperor is waiting for us. It will take whole days,
+months and years to admire in detail the treasures that this palace is
+full of. It is the favorite resort of the Emperor. And yet, as much as
+his residence at Aix-la-Chapelle, he loves his old castle of Heristal,
+the cradle of his mighty stock of mayors of the palace, where he has
+heaped miracles of art."<a name="page_029" id="page_029"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h3>
+
+<h4>CHARLEMAGNE.</h4>
+
+<p>Following their guide, the two hostages left the sumptuous and vast
+galleries, and ascended, closely behind Octave, a spiral staircase that
+led to the private apartment of the Emperor, the apartment around which
+wound the balcony that served as observatory to Charles. Two richly
+dressed chamberlains stood in the outer vestibule. "Stay for me here,"
+Octave said to the Bretons; "I shall notify the Emperor that you await
+his pleasure, and learn whether he wishes to receive you at this
+moment."</p>
+
+<p>Despite his race and family hatred for the Frankish Kings or Emperors,
+the conquerors and oppressors of Gaul, Vortigern experienced a thrill of
+emotion at the thought of finding himself face to face with the mighty
+Charles, the sovereign of almost all Europe. This first emotion was
+speedily joined by a second&mdash;that mighty Emperor was the father of
+Thetralde, the entrancing maid, who, the evening before, had thrown her
+bouquet to the youth. Vortigern's thoughts never a moment fell upon the
+brunette Hildrude. An instant later Octave reappeared and beckoned to
+Amael and his grandson to step in, while in an undertone he warned them:
+"Crook your knees low before the Emperor; it is the custom."</p>
+
+<p>The centenarian cast a look at Vortigern with a negative sign of the
+head. The youth understood, and the Bretons stepped into the bed-chamber
+of Charles, whom they found in the company of his favorite Eginhard, the
+archchaplain<a name="page_030" id="page_030"></a> whom Imma had one night bravely carried on her back. A
+servitor of the imperial chamber awaited the orders of his master.</p>
+
+<p>When the two hostages entered the room, the monarch, whose stature,
+though now unarmed, preserved its colossal dimensions, was seated on the
+edge of his couch clad only in a shirt and hose that set off the
+pre-eminence of his paunch. He had just put on one shoe and held the
+other in his hand. His hair was almost white, his eyes were large and
+sparkling, his nose was long, his neck short and thick like a bull's.
+His physiognomy, of an open cast and instinct with joviality, recalled
+the features of his grandfather, Charles Martel. At the sight of the two
+Bretons the Emperor rose from the edge of the couch, and keeping his one
+shoe in his hand, took two steps forward, limping on his left foot. As
+he thus approached Amael he seemed a prey to a concealed emotion
+somewhat mingled with a lively curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>"Old man!" cried out Charles in his shrill voice that contrasted so
+singularly with his giant stature, "Octave tells me you fought under
+Charles Martel, my grandfather, nearly eighty years ago, and that you
+saved his life at the battle of Poitiers."</p>
+
+<p>"It is true," and carrying his hand to his forehead where the traces of
+a deep wound were still visible, the aged Breton added: "I received this
+wound at the battle of Poitiers."</p>
+
+<p>The Emperor sat down again on the edge of his bed, put on the other shoe
+and said to his archchaplain: "Eginhard, you who compiled in your
+chronicle the history and acts of my grandfather, you whose memory is
+ever faithful, do you remember ever to have heard told what the old man
+says?"</p>
+
+<p>Eginhard remained thoughtful for a moment, and then<a name="page_031" id="page_031"></a> answered slowly: "I
+remember to have read in some parchment scrolls, inscribed by the hand
+of the glorious Charles and now preserved in your august archives, that,
+indeed, at the battle of Poitiers"&mdash;but interrupting himself and turning
+to the centenarian he asked: "Your name? How are you called?"</p>
+
+<p>"Amael is my name."</p>
+
+<p>The archchaplain reflected for a moment, and shaking his head observed:
+"While I can not now recall it, that was not the name of the warrior who
+saved the life of Charles Martel at the battle of Poitiers&mdash;it was a
+Frankish name, it is not the name which you mentioned."</p>
+
+<p>"That name," rejoined the aged Amael, "was Berthoald."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes!" put in Eginhard quickly. "That is the name&mdash;Berthoald. And in a
+few lines written in his own hand, the glorious Charles Martel commended
+the said Berthoald to his children; he wrote that he owed him his life
+and recommended him to their gratitude if he ever should turn to them."</p>
+
+<p>During the exchange of these words between the aged Breton and the
+archchaplain, the Emperor had continued and finished his toilet with the
+aid of his servitor of the chamber. His costume, the old Frankish
+costume to which Charles remained faithful, consisted in the first place
+of a pair of leggings made of thick linen material closely fastened to
+the nether limbs by means of red wool bandelets that wound criss-cross
+from below upwards; next of a tunic of Frisian cloth, sapphire-blue, and
+held together by a silk belt. In the winter and the fall of the year the
+Emperor also wore over his shoulders a heavy and large otter or
+lamb-skin coat. Thus clad, Charles sat down in a large armchair placed
+near a curtain that was meant to conceal one of the doors that<a name="page_032" id="page_032"></a> opened
+upon the balcony which served him for observatory. At a sign from
+Charles the servitor stepped out of the chamber. Left alone with
+Eginhard, Vortigern, Amael and Octave, Charles said to the elder Breton:
+"Old man, if I understood my chaplain correctly, a Frank named Berthoald
+saved my grandfather's life. How does it happen that the said Berthoald
+and you are the same personage?"</p>
+
+<p>"When fifteen years of age, driven by the spirit of adventure, I ran
+away from my family of the Gallic race, and then located in Burgundy.
+After many untoward events, I joined a band of determined men. I then
+was twenty years of age. I took a Frankish name and claimed to be of
+that race in order to secure the protection of Charles Martel.<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> To the
+end of interesting him all the more in my lot I offered him my own sword
+and the swords of all my men, just a few days before the battle of
+Poitiers. At that battle I saved his life. After that, loaded with his
+favors, I fought under his orders five years longer."</p>
+
+<p>"And what happened then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then&mdash;ashamed of my imposition, and still more ashamed of fighting on
+the side of the Franks, I left Charles Martel to return into Brittany,
+the cradle of my family. There I became a field laborer."</p>
+
+<p>"By the cape of St. Martin, you then turned rebel!" exclaimed the
+Emperor in his squeaky voice, which then assumed the tone of a
+penetrating treble. "I now see the wisdom of those who chose you for an
+hostage, you, the instigator and the soul of the uprisings and even wars
+that broke out in Brittany during the reign of Pepin, my father, and<a name="page_033" id="page_033"></a>
+even under my own reign, when your devil-possessed countrymen decimated
+my veteran bands!"</p>
+
+<p>"I fought as well as I could in our wars."</p>
+
+<p>"Traitor! Loaded with favors by my grandfather, yet were you not afraid
+to rise in arms against his son and me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I felt remorse for only one thing&mdash;and that was to have merited the
+favor of your grandfather. I shall ever reproach myself for having
+fought on his side instead of against him."</p>
+
+<p>"Old man," cried the Emperor, purple with rage, "you have even more
+audacity than years!"</p>
+
+<p>"Charles&mdash;let us stop here. You look upon yourself as the sovereign of
+Gaul. We Bretons do not recognize your claims. These claims you hold,
+like all other conquerors, from force. To you might means right&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I hold them from God!" again cried the Emperor, this time stamping the
+floor with his foot and breaking in upon Amael. "Yes! I hold my rights
+over Gaul from God, and from my good sword."</p>
+
+<p>"From your sword, from violence, yes, indeed. From God, not at all. God
+does not consecrate theft, whether a purse or an empire be involved.
+Clovis captured Gaul. Your father and grandfather plundered of his crown
+the last scion of that Clovis. Little does that matter to us, Bretons,
+who refuse to obey either the stock of Clovis or that of Charles Martel.
+You dispose over an innumerable army; already have you ravished and
+vanquished Brittany. You may ravage and vanquish her over again&mdash;but
+subjugate her, never. And now, Charles, I have spoken. You shall hear
+not another word from me on that subject. I am your prisoner, your
+hostage. Dispose of me."</p>
+
+<p>The Emperor, who more than once was on the point of<a name="page_034" id="page_034"></a> allowing his
+indignation to break loose, turned to Eginhard and, after a moment of
+silence, said to him in a calm voice: "You, who are engaged in writing
+the history and deeds of Charles, the august Emperor of Gaul, Caesar of
+Germany, Patrician of Rome, Protector of the Suevians, the Bulgarians
+and the Hungarians, I command you to write down that an old man held to
+Charles a language of unheard-of audacity, and that Charles could not
+prevent himself from esteeming the frankness and the courage of the man
+who had thus spoken to him." And suddenly changing his tone, the
+Emperor, whose features, for a moment stern in anger, now assumed an
+expression of joviality shaded with shrewdness, said to Amael: "So,
+then, Breton seigneurs of Armorica, whatever I may do, you want none of
+me at any price for your Emperor. Do you so much as know me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Charles, we know you in Brittany by the unjust wars that your father
+and yourself have waged against us."</p>
+
+<p>"So that, to you, gentlemen of Armorica, Charles is only a man of
+conquest, of violence, and of battle?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you reign only through terror."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then, follow me. I may perhaps cause you to change your mind,"
+said the Emperor after a moment's reflection. He rose, took his cane and
+put on his cap. His eyes then fell upon Vortigern, whom, standing
+silently at a distance, he had not noticed before. "Who is that young
+and handsome lad?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"My grandson."</p>
+
+<p>"Octave," the Emperor remarked, turning to the young Roman, "this is
+rather a young hostage."</p>
+
+<p>"August Prince, this lad was chosen for several reasons. His sister
+married Morvan, a common field laborer, but one<a name="page_035" id="page_035"></a> of the most intrepid of
+the Breton chieftains. During this last war he commanded the cavalry."</p>
+
+<p>"And why, then, was not that Morvan brought here? That would have been
+an excellent hostage."</p>
+
+<p>"August Prince, in order to bring him we would have first had to catch
+him. Although severely wounded, Morvan, thanks to his heroine of a wife,
+succeeded in making his escape with her. It has been impossible to reach
+them in the inaccessible mountains whither they both fled. For that
+reason two other chiefs and influential men of the tribe were chosen for
+hostages; we left them on the road on account of their wounds, and
+proceeded only with this old man, who was the soul of the last wars, and
+also this youth, who, through his family connections, is related to one
+of the most dangerous chieftains of Armorica. I must admit that in
+taking him, we yielded also to the prayers of his mother. She was very
+anxious that he should accompany his grandfather on this long journey,
+which is very trying to a centenarian."</p>
+
+<p>"And you," resumed the Emperor, addressing Vortigern, whom, during the
+account given by Octave, he had been examining with attention and
+interest, "no doubt also hate inveterately that Charles, the conqueror
+and devastator?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Emperor Charles has white hair; I am only eighteen years old,"
+retorted the young Breton, blushing. "I can not answer."</p>
+
+<p>"Old man," observed Charles, visibly affected by the lad's
+self-respecting yet becoming modesty, "the mother of your grandson must
+be a happy woman. But coming to think of it, my lad, was it not you who
+yesterday evening, shortly before<a name="page_036" id="page_036"></a> my arrival, came near breaking your
+neck with a fall from your horse?"</p>
+
+<p>"I!" cried Vortigern, blushing with pride; "I, fall from my horse! Who
+dared to say so!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! Oh! my lad. You are red up to your ears," the Emperor exclaimed,
+laughing aloud. "But, never mind. Be tranquil. I do not mean to wound
+your pride of horsemanship. Far from it. Before I saw you to-day my ears
+have rung with the interminable praises of your gracefulness and daring
+on horseback. My dear daughters, especially little Thetralde and the
+tall Hildrude, told me at least ten times at supper that they had seen a
+savage young Breton, although wounded in one arm, manage his horse like
+the most skilful of my equerries."</p>
+
+<p>"If I deserve any praise, it must be addressed to my grandfather,"
+modestly answered Vortigern. "It was he who taught me to ride on
+horseback."</p>
+
+<p>"I like that answer, my lad. It shows your modesty and a proper respect
+for your elders. Are you lettered? Can you read and write?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, thanks to the instruction of my mother."</p>
+
+<p>"Can you sing mass in the choir?"</p>
+
+<p>"I!" cried Vortigern in great astonishment. "I sing mass! No, no, by
+Hesus! We do not sing mass in my country."</p>
+
+<p>"There they are, the Breton pagans!" exclaimed Charles. "Oh, my bishops
+are right, they are a devil-possessed people, those folks of Armorica.
+What a pity that so handsome and so modest a lad should not be able to
+sing mass in the choir." Saying this, the Emperor pulled his thick cap
+close over his head and leaning heavily on his cane, said to the aged
+Breton: "Come, follow me, seigneur Breton. Ah, you only know<a name="page_037" id="page_037"></a> of Charles
+the Fighter; I shall now make you acquainted with another Charles whom
+you do not yet know. Come, follow me." Limping, and leaning on his cane,
+the Emperor moved towards the door, making a sign to the others to
+follow; but stopping short at the threshold, he turned to Octave: "You,
+go to Hugh, my Master of the Hounds, and notify him that I shall hunt
+deer in the forest of Oppenheim. Let him send there the hounds, horses
+and all other equipments of the chase."</p>
+
+<p>"August Prince, your orders will be executed."</p>
+
+<p>"You will also say to the Grand Nomenclator of my table that I may take
+dinner in the pavilion of the forest, especially if the hunt lasts long.
+My suite will dine there also. Let the repast be sumptuous. You will
+tell the Nomenclator that my taste has not changed. A good large joint
+of roast venison, served piping hot, is now, as ever, my favorite
+treat."</p>
+
+<p>The young Roman again bowed low; Charles stepped out first from the
+chamber. He was followed by Eginhard, then by Amael. As Vortigern was
+about to follow his grandfather, he was retained for an instant by
+Octave, who, approaching his mouth to the lad's ear, whispered to him:</p>
+
+<p>"I shall carry to the apartments of the Emperor's daughters the news
+that he intends to hunt to-day. By Venus! The mother of love has you
+under her protecting wings, my young Breton."</p>
+
+<p>The lad blushed anew, and was about to answer the Roman when he heard
+Amael's voice calling out to him: "Come, my child, the Emperor wishes to
+lean on your arm in order to descend the stairs and walk through the
+palace."</p>
+
+<p>More and more disturbed in mind, Vortigern stepped towards Charles as
+the latter was saying to the chamberlains:<a name="page_038" id="page_038"></a> "No, nobody is to accompany
+me except the two Bretons and Eginhard;" and nodding to the lad he
+proceeded: "Your arm will be a better support to me than my cane; these
+stairs are steep; step carefully."</p>
+
+<p>Supported by Vortigern's arm the Emperor slowly descended the steps of a
+staircase that ran out at one of the porticos of an interior courtyard.
+When the bottom was reached Charles dropped the young man's arm, and
+resuming his cane, said: "You stepped cleverly; you are a good guide.
+What a pity that you do not know how to sing mass in the choir!" While
+thus chattering, Charles followed a gallery that ran along the
+courtyard. The men who accompanied him marched a few steps behind.
+Presently the Emperor noticed a slave crossing the courtyard with a
+large hamper on his shoulders. "Halloa! You, there, with the basket!"
+the Emperor called out in his piercing voice. "You, there, with the
+basket! Come here! What have you in that basket?"</p>
+
+<p>"Eggs, seigneur."</p>
+
+<p>"Where are you taking them to?"</p>
+
+<p>"To the kitchen of the august Emperor."</p>
+
+<p>"Where do those eggs come from?"</p>
+
+<p>"From the Muhlsheim farm, seigneur."</p>
+
+<p>"From the Muhlsheim farm?" the Emperor repeated thoughtfully, and almost
+immediately added: "There must be three hundred and twenty-five eggs in
+that basket. Are there not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, seigneur; that's the exact rent brought in every month from the
+farm."</p>
+
+<p>"You can go&mdash;and be careful you do not break the eggs." The Emperor
+stopped for a moment, leaned heavily upon his cane, and turning to
+Amael, called out to him: "Halloa,<a name="page_039" id="page_039"></a> seigneur Breton, come here, draw
+near me." Amael obeyed, and the Emperor resuming his walk proceeded to
+say: "Charles the Fighter, the conqueror, is at least a good
+husbander&mdash;does it not strike you that way? He knows to an egg how many
+are laid by the hens on his farms. If you ever return to Brittany, you
+must not fail to narrate the incident to the housekeepers of your
+country."</p>
+
+<p>"If I ever again see my country, I shall tell the truth of what I have
+seen."<a name="page_040" id="page_040"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h3>
+
+<h4>THE PALATINE SCHOOL.</h4>
+
+<p>Thus chatting, the Emperor Charles the Great arrived before a door that
+opened on the gallery. He knocked with his cane, and a clerk dressed in
+black opened. Struck with surprise, the clerk bent the knee and cried:
+"The Emperor!" And as he seemed to be about to rush to the door of a
+contiguous hall, the Emperor ordered him to stop:</p>
+
+<p>"Do not budge! Master Clement is giving his lessons, is he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my august Prince!"</p>
+
+<p>"Remain where you are," and addressing Amael: "Seigneur Breton, you
+shall now visit a school that I have founded. It is under the direction
+of Master Clement, a famous teacher, whom I have summoned from Scotland.
+The sons of the principal seigneurs of my court come here, in obedience
+to my orders, to study at this school, together with the poorest of my
+attendants."</p>
+
+<p>"This is well done, Charles&mdash;I congratulate you on that!"</p>
+
+<p>"And yet it is Charles the Fighter that has done this good thing&mdash;let us
+go in;" and turning to Vortigern: "Well, my young man, you who cannot
+sing mass, open your eyes and ears at their widest; you are about to see
+pupils of your own age, and of all conditions."<a name="page_041" id="page_041"></a></p>
+
+<p>The Palatine school, directed by the Scotchman Clement, into whose
+precincts the two Bretons followed the Emperor, held about two hundred
+pupils. All rose at their benches at the sight of Charles, but he
+motioned to them to resume their seats, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"Be seated, my boys; I prefer to see you with your noses in your books,
+than in air, under the pretext of respect for me." And seeing that
+Master Clement, the director of the school, was himself about to descend
+from his high desk, Charles cried out to him: "Remain on your throne of
+knowledge, my worthy master; here I am only one of your subjects. I only
+wanted to cast a glance over the work of these boys, and to learn from
+you whether they have made any progress during my absence. Let the boys
+come forward, one by one, with the copy-books in which to-day's work is
+being done."</p>
+
+<p>The Emperor prided himself not a little on his literacy. He sat down on
+a stool near the chair of Master Clement, and carefully examined the
+copy-books brought to him. It appeared that the pupils who were the sons
+of noble or rich parents, exhibited to the Emperor mediocre, or even
+poor work, while, on the other hand, the poorer pupils, or those whose
+parents were of lower rank, exhibited such excellent work that Charles,
+turning to Amael, said: "If you were as proficient in letters as myself,
+seigneur Breton, you would be able to appreciate, as I do, these
+manuscripts that I have just been looking over. The sweetest flavor of
+science is exhaled by these writings." Thereupon addressing the scholars
+who had distinguished themselves, the Emperor said impressively: "I give
+you great praise, my children, for the zeal you display in carrying out
+my wishes; strive<a name="page_042" id="page_042"></a> after perfection, and I shall endow you with rich
+bishoprics and magnificent abbeys." The Emperor stopped and turned
+towards the lazy noblemen's sons and the sons of the idle rich; his brow
+puckered, and casting upon them an angry look, he cried out: "As to you,
+the sons of my Empire's principal men, as to you, dainty and prim lads,
+who, resting upon your birth and fortune, have neglected my orders and
+your studies, preferring play and idleness&mdash;as to you," the Emperor
+proceeded in a voice of ever heightening anger, and smiting the table
+with his cane, "as to you, look for admiration from other quarters than
+mine. I care nothing for your birth and your fortune! Listen to my words
+and keep them firm in your minds: if you do not hasten to make amends
+for your negligence by constant application, you will never receive
+aught from me!"</p>
+
+<p>The rich idlers dropped their eyes all of a tremble. The Emperor rose
+and said to a young clerk, named Bernard, barely twenty years of age,
+the excellence of whose work had attracted Charles' attention: "And you,
+my lad, you may now follow me. I appoint you from to-day a clerk in my
+chapel, nor will the evidence of my protection end there."</p>
+
+<p>The Emperor looked satisfied with himself. With a complaisant air he
+turned to Amael: "Well now, seigneur Breton, you have seen Charles the
+Fighter, emulating in his humble capacity of man, the acts of our Lord
+God when on earth. He separates the wheat from the chaff, he places the
+just at his right, the wicked at his left. If you ever return to
+Brittany, you will tell the school-masters of your country that Charles
+is not altogether a bad superintendent of the schools that he has
+founded."<a name="page_043" id="page_043"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I shall say, Charles, that I saw you officiating in the midst of the
+pupils with wisdom, justice, and kindness."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish letters and science to shed splendor upon my reign. Were you
+less of a barbarian, I would have you assist at a sitting of our
+academy. We there assume the illustrious names of antiquity. Eginhard is
+called 'Homer,' Clement 'Horace,' and I 'King David.' These immortal
+names fit us as giants' armors do pigmies. But, at least, we do honor,
+at our best, to those geniuses. Now, however," said the Emperor, rising
+and breaking off the thread of his discourse on his academy, "let us,
+like good Catholics, proceed to church, and hear mass upon our knees."<a name="page_044" id="page_044"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h3>
+
+<h4>THE BISHOP OF LIMBURG.</h4>
+
+<p>Preceding his suite, that consisted of Eginhard, Amael, Vortigern and
+the newly-created clerk Bernard, the Emperor left the school-room and
+hobbled his way along a winding gallery. Encountering at one of the
+sharp and rather dark turns a young and handsome female slave, Charles
+addressed her with the same familiarity that he ever used towards the
+innumerable women of all conditions that stocked the palace. The Emperor
+chucked her under the chin, put his arm around her waist, and was about
+to carry his libertine freedom even further when, recollecting that,
+despite the darkness of the spot, he might be seen by the men in his
+suite, he motioned to the female slave that she withdraw, and laughing,
+observed to Amael: "Charles likes to show himself accessible to his
+subjects."</p>
+
+<p>"And above all to the female ones," retorted the aged Breton. "But I
+know that the priest's holy-water sprinkler will readily absolve you of
+all your sins."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, the pagan of a Breton; the pagan of a Breton!" murmured the Emperor
+as he hobbled along and presently entered the basilica of
+Aix-la-Chapelle, contiguous to the palace.</p>
+
+<p>Vortigern and his grandfather were both dazzled by the indescribable
+magnificence of the temple, where all the attendants at the imperial
+palace were now gathered. At a distance Vortigern discerned, seated near
+the choir and among<a name="page_045" id="page_045"></a> the numerous concubines of Charles, the Emperor's
+daughters and grand-daughters, clad in brilliant apparel, with the
+blonde and charming Thetralde close to her sister Hildrude. The Emperor
+took his accustomed seat at the chanter's desk among the sumptuously
+dressed choristers. One of these respectfully offered the Emperor an
+ebony baton, with which he beat time and gave the signal for the several
+chants in the liturgy. A little before the end of each stanza Charles,
+by way of signal, would raise his shrill voice and emit a gutteral cry,
+so strange and weird, that, on one of these occasions, Vortigern, whose
+eyes had accidentally encountered the large blue eyes of Thetralde
+obstinately fixed upon him, could hardly keep from laughing outright. So
+ridiculous was the figure cut by the Emperor, that despite the imposing
+appearance of the ceremony and despite the embarrassment into which the
+glances of Thetralde threw him, the youth's sense of decorum was
+severely taxed.</p>
+
+<p>The mass being over, Charles said to Amael: "Well, now, seigneur Breton,
+admit that, at a pinch, however much of a fighter I may be, I would make
+a passable clerk and a good chaunter."</p>
+
+<p>"I am not skilled in such matters. Yet I am free to tell you that, as a
+singer, the cries you uttered were frequently more discordant than those
+of the sea-gulls along our Brittany beach. Moreover, to me it looks as
+if the head of an Empire should have better things to do than to sing
+mass."</p>
+
+<p>"You will ever remain a barbarian and an idolater," cried the Emperor,
+stepping out of the basilica. At that moment, and still under the
+portico of the monumental building, a dignitary of the court pushed
+himself forward and bowing low, said to Charles:<a name="page_046" id="page_046"></a></p>
+
+<p>"August Prince, magnanimous Emperor, tidings have just been received of
+the death of the Bishop of Limburg."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! Oh! Only now? That surprises me greatly. People are so hot after
+the quarry of bishoprics that the death of a bishop is always announced
+two or three days in advance. Did the deceased bishop die in the odor of
+sanctity? Did he commend himself to the next world by the founding of
+pious establishments, or by rich bequests to the poor?"</p>
+
+<p>"August Prince, it is said that he bequeathed only two pounds of silver
+to the poor."</p>
+
+<p>"How light a viaticum for so long a journey!" exclaimed a voice. It
+proceeded from Bernard, the poor and learned pupil whom Charles had just
+appointed clerk of his own chapel, and who, agreeable to the orders of
+the Emperor, had kept close to his master since they left the Palatine
+school.</p>
+
+<p>Charles turned abruptly towards the young man, who, crimson with
+confusion, already regretted the boldness of his language and was
+trembling at every limb. "Follow me!" said Charles with severity; and
+observing that other dignitaries of the court took the call as if
+addressed to themselves, he added: "No, only the two Bretons, Eginhard
+and the young clerk. The rest of you may keep yourselves in readiness
+for the hunt that we shall start upon in a few minutes."</p>
+
+<p>The brilliant crowd kept itself aloof, and the Emperor regained the
+gallery of the palace accompanied only by Vortigern, Amael, Eginhard and
+the poor Bernard, the last more dead than alive. The clerk walked last,
+fearing that he had angered the Emperor by his stinging sally on the
+niggardliness of the deceased bishop. The surprise of the young clerk
+was, accordingly, great when, arrived at the extremity<a name="page_047" id="page_047"></a> of the gallery,
+Charles half turned to him, and with beaming eyes, said:</p>
+
+<p>"Draw near, draw near! Do you really think the Bishop of Limburg left
+too little money for the poor?"</p>
+
+<p>"Seigneur, pardon my inadvertent boldness!"</p>
+
+<p>"Answer. If I bestow that bishopric upon you, would you, the day you
+appear before God, have a better record for liberality than the Bishop
+of Limburg?"</p>
+
+<p>"August Prince," answered the clerk, his head swimming at the thought of
+such unheard-of good fortune, and dropping on his knees: "It rests with
+God and your will to decide my fate."</p>
+
+<p>"Arise. I appoint you Bishop of Limburg. But follow me. It will be well
+for you to learn, from personal observation, the greed with which
+bishoprics are striven for. The riches that they entail may be judged
+from the ardor with which their possession is pursued. And yet, once
+won, the cupidity of the incumbents, so far from being assuaged, seems
+whetted. Do you remember, Eginhard, that insolent Bishop of Mannheim?
+When, at the time of one of my campaigns against the Huns, I left him
+near my wife Hildegarde, did not the worthy feel so inflated with the
+friendship that my wife showed him, that he carried his audacity to the
+point of demanding from her as a gift the gold wand that I use as a
+symbol of my authority, for the purpose, as that impudent bishop
+declared, of using it for a cane? By the King of the Heavens! The
+sceptre of Charles, of the Emperor, is not so readily to be converted
+into a walking stick for the bishops of his empire!"</p>
+
+<p>"You are in error, Charles," put in Amael. "Sooner or later, the bishops
+will use your sceptre for a baton by means<a name="page_048" id="page_048"></a> of which to drive peoples
+and kings as may suit themselves."</p>
+
+<p>"By the hammer of my grandfather! I will break the bishops' mitres on
+their own heads if ever they dare to usurp my power!"</p>
+
+<p>"No; you will do no such thing, and for the simple reason that you stand
+in fear of them. As a proof, behold the vast estates and the flatteries
+that you shower upon them."</p>
+
+<p>"I, fear the bishops!" cried the Emperor; and turning to Eginhard: "Is
+that matter of the rat settled with the Jew?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, seigneur," answered Eginhard, smiling. "The bishop closed the
+bargain yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>"That happens in time to prove to you that I am not afraid of the
+bishops, seigneur Breton&mdash;I, flatter them? When, on the contrary, I miss
+no opportunity to give them severe or gentle lessons wherever they
+deserve reproof. As to the worthy ones, I enrich them; and even then I
+look twice before bestowing upon them lands and abbeys belonging to the
+imperial domains. And the reason is plain. With this or that abbey or
+farm I am certain of securing to myself some soldier vassal greatly more
+faithful than many a count or bishop."</p>
+
+<p>Thus pleasantly chatting, the Emperor regained his palace, and in the
+company of Vortigern, Amael, Eginhard and the freshly appointed Bishop
+of Limburg, re-ascended the steep spiral staircase that led to his
+private apartment. Hardly had Charles entered his observatory when one
+of his chamberlains announced to him:</p>
+
+<p>"August Emperor, several of the leading officers in the palace have
+solicited the honor of being admitted to your presence in order to lay a
+pressing request before you&mdash;the noble lady, Mathalgarde (she was one of
+the numerous concubines<a name="page_049" id="page_049"></a> of Charles) also called twice on the same
+errand. She awaits your orders."</p>
+
+<p>"Let the petitioners come in," answered Charles to the chamberlain, who
+immediately left the room. Addressing the young clerk, now bishop, with
+a jovial yet impressive air, Charles pointed to the curtain of the door,
+near which his usual seat was located, and said: "Hide yourself behind
+that curtain, young man; you are about to learn the number of rivals
+that the death of a bishop raises. It will aid your education."</p>
+
+<p>The young clerk had barely vanished behind the curtain, before the
+chamber was invaded by a large number of the palace familiars, officers
+and seigneurs at court. Urging their own claims, or the claims of the
+clients whom they recommended, the mob deafened the Emperor's ears with
+their clamor. Among these was a bishop magnificently robed, and of
+haughty, imperious mien. He elbowed himself forward into Charles'
+presence as fast as he could.</p>
+
+<p>"This is the bishop of the rat," Eginhard whispered to the Emperor. "The
+price he paid the Jew was ten thousand silver sous. The Jew scrupulously
+reported the amount to me, as you ordered."</p>
+
+<p>"Bishop of Bergues, have you not enough with one bishopric?" Charles
+cried out to the haughty prelate. "Do you come to solicit a second?"</p>
+
+<p>"August Prince&mdash;I have come to pray you that you grant me the bishopric
+of Limburg, just vacant, in exchange for that of Bergues."</p>
+
+<p>"Because the former is richer?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, seigneur; and if I obtain it, the share of the poor will only be
+all the larger."<a name="page_050" id="page_050"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Now, all of you, listen to me attentively," the Emperor cried, pointing
+his finger at the bishop and in a tone of severity: "Knowing the
+passionate love of this prelate for frivolous and ruinous curiosities,
+which he purchases at prodigious prices, I ordered the Jew Solomon to
+catch a rat in his house, the vilest looking rat ever caught in a
+rat-trap, to embalm the beast in precious aromatics, to wrap it up in
+oriental materials embroidered in gold, to offer it to the Bishop of
+Bergues as a most rare rat imported from Judea upon a Venetian vessel,
+and to sell it to the prelate as the most prodigious and miraculous of
+rats."</p>
+
+<p>A loud outburst of laughter broke from the throats of all the
+dignitaries in the audience, except the Bishop of Bergues, who
+shamefacedly cast down his eyes. "Now, then," proceeded Charles, "do you
+know what price the Bishop of Bergues paid for that prodigious rat? <i>Ten
+thousand silver sous!</i> The Jew reported to me the amount&mdash;which will be
+distributed among the poor!" Charles stopped for a moment, and presently
+resumed with heightened severity: "Ye bishops, have a care! It should be
+your duty to be the fathers, the purveyors of the poor, and not to show
+yourselves greedy of vain frivolities. Yet here you are, doing exactly
+the opposite. More than all other mortals are you given to avarice and
+idle cupidity! By the King of the Heavens, take a care! The Emperor's
+hand raised you, it may also pull you down. Keep that in mind."</p>
+
+<p>As Charles was uttering these last words, the courtiers were seen to
+part and make way for Mathalgarde, one of the Emperor's concubines. The
+woman, a dame of surpassing beauty, approached Charles with a confident
+air and said to him gracefully:<a name="page_051" id="page_051"></a></p>
+
+<p>"My kind Seigneur, the bishopric of Limburg is vacant. I have promised
+it to a clerk who is under my protection, not doubting your kind
+approval."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear Mathalgarde, I have bestowed the bishopric upon a young man&mdash;a
+very learned and deserving young man; I could not think of taking it
+back from him."</p>
+
+<p>Mathalgarde was not disconcerted. Assuming the most insinuating voice at
+her command, she seized one of the Emperor's hands and proceeded
+tenderly: "August Prince, my gracious master, why bestow the bishopric
+so ill by giving it to a young man, perhaps a child. I conjure you,
+grant the bishopric to my clerk."</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a plaintive voice that proceeded from behind the curtain fell
+upon the startled ears of the attendants: "Seigneur Emperor, be
+firm&mdash;allow not that a mortal tear from your hands the power that God
+has placed in them. Be firm, Seigneur." It was the voice of poor
+Bernard, who, fearing Charles was about to allow himself to be seduced
+by the caressing words of Mathalgarde, wished to remind him of his
+promise. The Emperor immediately rolled back the curtain, behind which
+the clerk stood, took him by the hand, drew him forward, and presenting
+him to the audience, said: "This is the new Bishop of Limburg!" Before
+the audience could recover from their stupor Charles said to Bernard in
+a voice loud and piercing enough to be heard by all present: "Do not
+forget to distribute abundant alms&mdash;it will some day be your viaticum on
+that long journey from which man never returns."</p>
+
+<p>The beautiful Mathalgarde, whose hopes had thus been rudely dashed,
+reddened with anger and abruptly left the apartment. The other
+courtiers, along with the Bishop of<a name="page_052" id="page_052"></a> Bergues, speedily followed the
+chagrined woman, no less disappointed than herself.</p>
+
+<p>"Seigneur Breton," the Emperor said, as soon as the chamber was cleared,
+and motioning Amael to approach the door, which he opened wider to step
+out upon the balcony and enjoy the pleasant warmth of the autumn sun,
+"do you still think Charles is of a mood to allow the bishops to use his
+sceptre for a baton with which to drive him and his people?"</p>
+
+<p>"Charles, should it please you this evening, the experiences of the day
+being over, to accord me a short interview, I shall then express to you
+sincerely my thoughts upon all that I have seen here. I shall praise
+what seems good to me&mdash;and I shall censure the evil."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you see evil here!"</p>
+
+<p>"Here&mdash;and elsewhere."</p>
+
+<p>"How 'elsewhere'?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you imagine that your palace and your city of Aix-la-Chapelle, this
+favorite residence of yours, is all there is of Gaul?"</p>
+
+<p>"What do you say of Gaul! I have just traversed the North of those
+regions. I have been as far as Boulogne, where I had a lighthouse
+erected for the protection of the ships. Moreover&mdash;" but breaking off,
+the Emperor pointed in the direction of that portion of the courtyard
+that the balcony commanded, saying: "Look yonder&mdash;listen!"</p>
+
+<p>Amael saw near one of the galleries a young man, robust and tall of
+stature, wearing a thick black beard, and clad in the robes of a bishop.
+Two of his slaves had just brought out to him a gentle horse, as befits
+a prelate, and led the animal near a stone bench in order to aid their
+master in mounting. But the young bishop, having noticed two women
+looking at him from a nearby casement, and no doubt wishing to give<a name="page_053" id="page_053"></a>
+them a proof of his agility, impatiently ordered his attendants to take
+the horse from the bench. Thereupon, disdaining even the help of a
+stirrup, he seized the animal's mane with one hand and gave so vigorous
+a jump that he had great difficulty to keep his saddle, lest he fall
+over on the other side. The perilous leap attracted the Emperor's
+attention to the prelate, and he called out to him in his shrill,
+squeaky voice: "Eh! Eh! You, there, my nimble prelate. One word with
+you, if you please!" The young man looked up, and recognizing Charles,
+respectfully bowed his head.</p>
+
+<p>"You are quick and agile; you have good feet, good arms and a good eye.
+The quiet of our empire is every day disturbed by wars. We stand in
+great need of 'clerks' of your kidney. You shall stay with us and share
+with us our fatigues, seeing you can mount a horse so nimbly. I shall
+bestow your bishopric upon someone who is less sprightly. You shall take
+your place among my men-at-arms."</p>
+
+<p>The young bishop lowered his head in confusion. He looked at the Emperor
+with a suppliant eye. But the latter's attention was speedily drawn from
+the discomfited prelate by the distant barking of a large pack of
+hounds, and the reveille of hunting trumps.</p>
+
+<p>"It is my hunting-train," exclaimed the Emperor. "We shall depart for
+the hunt, seigneur Breton. This evening we shall continue our chat.
+Return with your grandson to your apartment. You will be served the noon
+meal. After that you will both join me. I am curious to see whether this
+youngster is as good a horseman as report makes him. Moreover, although
+the exercise of the chase is a frivolous pastime, you may, perhaps, find
+that Charles the Fighter makes good use even of frivolities. Be off now
+to dinner&mdash;and then, to horse!"<a name="page_054" id="page_054"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h3>
+
+<h4>TO THE HUNT.</h4>
+
+<p>Octave had come to take Amael and his grandson to the noon meal. While
+they walked towards one of the courtyards of the palace, in order to
+join the hunting suite of the Emperor, the young Roman, profiting by a
+moment when the aged Breton could not overhear him, said in a low voice
+to Vortigern:</p>
+
+<p>"Lucky boy. I am convinced that two pairs of eyes, one black as ebony,
+the other of azure blue, have been peering through the crowd of
+courtiers&mdash;" but interrupting the flow of his words at the sight of the
+deep crimson that suffused the lad's visage, he proceeded to say: "Wait
+till I have finished before you grow purple. Well, as I was saying, two
+beautiful blue eyes and two equally beautiful black ones have, more than
+once, sought to detect in the crowd of courtiers&mdash;Whom?&mdash;the venerable
+figure of your grandfather, because there is nothing so attractive as a
+long white beard. So much is that so that this forenoon, at mass, the
+blonde Thetralde and the brunette Hildrude quite forgot the thread of
+the divine service in order to contemplate incessantly&mdash;your
+grandfather, who was seated next to you. Come, now, you are blushing
+again. Are you, perchance, afraid lest the fascinating daughters of the
+Emperor fall in love with the centenarian?"</p>
+
+<p>"Your jokes are becoming insupportable."<a name="page_055" id="page_055"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how contagious is the court air. Hardly is this Breton away from
+his native fogs than he has become as full of wiles as an old clerk."</p>
+
+<p>More and more embarrassed by the banterings of Octave, Vortigern only
+stammered a few words. The noon meal was disposed of. The aged Breton,
+his grandson and the young Roman were presently mounted upon their
+spirited horses that they found held ready for them by slaves in the
+courtyard of the palace, and they rode briskly out to join the Emperor.</p>
+
+<p>Two of the sons of Charles, Carloman and Louis, or Luthwig as the Franks
+pronounced it, had arrived that same morning from their castle of
+Heristal and now accompanied their father, together with five of his
+daughters and four of his concubines, the other women of the palace
+being this time excluded from the hunt. Among the huntresses was Imma,
+the paramour who had so bravely borne Eginhard, the archchaplain, upon
+her back. Still handsome, she now bordered on the full ripeness of
+womanhood. Near her rode Bertha, searching with her eyes for Enghilbert,
+the handsome Abbot of St. Riquier. A little behind the couple came
+Adelrude, who, from afar, smiled upon Audoin, one of Charles' most
+daring captains. Last of all trotted the brunette Hildrude, together
+with the blonde Thetralde, both endeavoring to detect, no doubt, the
+Breton centenarian, as Octave had told Vortigern. Most of the seigneurs
+of Charles' suite wore singular costumes, brought at great expense from
+Pavia, whither commerce unloaded the riches of the Orient. Among the
+Emperor's courtiers, some were clad in tunics of Tyrian purple furnished
+with broad capes, ornamented with facings of embroidered Phoenician
+birds'-skin, while feathers of Asiatic<a name="page_056" id="page_056"></a> peacocks' tail, neck and back,
+caused their rich vestments to glitter in all the shades of blue, gold,
+and emerald. Others of the courtiers wore precious jackets of Judean
+dormouse, or weasel&mdash;gowns much prized and as dainty and delicate as the
+skin of a bird. Finally caps with floating feathers, leggings of silk,
+boots of oriental red or green leather, embroidered with gold or silver,
+completed the splendid accoutrement of these people of the court.</p>
+
+<p>The rude rusticity of the Emperor's costume stood off in marked contrast
+with the magnificence of his courtiers. His coarse and large leather
+boots, furnished with iron spurs, reached up to his thighs; under his
+tunic he wore a broad sheep-skin coat with the fleece on the outside,
+and his head was covered with a cap of badger-skin. In his hand the
+Emperor carried a short-handled whip which he used to stir up the
+hunting dogs with. Thanks to his tall stature, which greatly exceeded
+that of any of his officers, Charles was able to detect Vortigern and
+Amael from afar, whereupon he cried out to the grandfather:</p>
+
+<p>"Eh, seigneur Breton. Come, if you please, to my side, with your
+grandson. I wish to ascertain whether, indeed, he is as good a horseman
+as my little girls claim."</p>
+
+<p>The ranks of the courtiers parted in order to allow a passage to Amael
+and his grandson, the latter of whom modestly followed his grandfather,
+not daring to raise his eyes lest they should fall upon the group of
+women that surrounded the Emperor. Charles watched Vortigern
+attentively, and the gracefulness with which the youth handled his
+horse, drew from the Emperor the remark:</p>
+
+<p>"Old Charles can judge at a glance of the skill of a rider. I am
+satisfied. But I suspect you love the hunt better than<a name="page_057" id="page_057"></a> you do the mass,
+and a horse's saddle better than a church bench."</p>
+
+<p>"I do prefer the hunt to the mass," frankly responded Vortigern; "but I
+prefer war to the hunt."</p>
+
+<p>"Though your answer is not that of a good Catholic, it is the answer of
+a sincere lad. What do you think, my little ones?" added the Emperor,
+turning towards the group of huntresses. "Are you not of my mind?"</p>
+
+<p>"You asked the young man for his opinion, and he spoke out with
+sincerity. He says what he does; he will do what he says. Valor and
+loyalty are written upon his face," was the prompt answer that came from
+Hildrude.</p>
+
+<p>The blonde Thetralde, not daring to speak after her elder sister, grew
+cherry-red, and cast a look of intense jealousy, almost of rage, upon
+the brunette Hildrude, whose quick repartee she envied.</p>
+
+<p>"There is nothing left to me but to join in the praise of the young
+pagan's frankness, lest I get into trouble with my little girls. Come
+forward," and leaning over towards Amael, he pointed angrily with his
+whip at the crowd of courtiers who shimmered in their costly finery, and
+prinked in their flowing plumes. "Look at that bevy of richly
+caparisoned customers. Look at them well. You will presently wish to
+remember the figures they are now cutting," saying which, the Emperor
+rode off at a gallop, followed by all his court, and calling out to the
+courtiers as well as to the Bretons:</p>
+
+<p>"Once in the forest, each to himself, and at the mercy of his own horse.
+At the hunt there is neither Emperor nor courtier. There are only
+hunters and huntresses!"<a name="page_058" id="page_058"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h3>
+
+<h4>THE FOREST OF OPPENHEIM.</h4>
+
+<p>The hunt to which Charles the Emperor had galloped off with the buoyancy
+of youth, took place in a vast forest located at the very gate of
+Aix-la-Chapelle. The autumn sky, at first radiant, had been gradually
+overcast by one of the mists that are so frequent at the season and in
+that northern region. Obedient to the Emperor's orders, none of his
+courtiers attached himself to his steps. The hunters scattered. The more
+daring and venturesome did not quit the pack, now fretting in their
+leashes to start in pursuit of the deer across the thickets. The less
+daring and less enthusiastic sportsmen contented themselves with
+following at a distance the sound of the horns or the barking of the
+hounds; they straggled behind, or waited to see the deer dash across
+their path with the hounds and hunters at his heels. From the very start
+of the hunt, Charles, carried away by his ardor for the sport, left his
+daughters to themselves, unable as they were to follow him through the
+thickest of the jungle, into which the Emperor of the Franks plunged
+like the hottest of his huntsmen. For an instant, separated from his
+grandfather in the rush and crush of the tumultuous assembly, where
+nearly a hundred horses, gathered in a small space, were excited by the
+din of the horns, to which they added their own impatient neighing,
+champed their bits and reared wildly, Vortigern raised himself in his
+stirrups and searched with his eyes for<a name="page_059" id="page_059"></a> Amael, when suddenly his own
+horse took the bit in his mouth and galloped off rapidly with his rider.
+When the young Breton finally succeeded, by dint of violent efforts, to
+master his mount, he found himself at a considerable distance from the
+chase. Seeking to penetrate with his eyes the mist that spread ever
+further and thicker over the forest, the young man perceived that he was
+on a long avenue whose issues it was impossible to distinguish. He
+listened, expecting to hear from the distance the noise of the chase,
+which would have guided him in his efforts to joint it. The profoundest
+silence reigned in this part of the forest. A moment later, however, the
+tramp of two horses rapidly approaching from behind, struck his ears,
+and immediately after, a cry, uttered in anger rather than fear. An
+instant later, Vortigern detected a vague form across the mist. By
+degrees the form became distinct, and soon the blonde Thetralde was
+disclosed to the wondering eyes of the young Breton, urging on her
+horse, and clad in a long robe of sapphire blue cloth, trimmed with
+ermine, white as the coat of her palfrey. On her blonde tresses
+Thetralde wore a small cap, also of ermine. A sash of Tyrean silk of
+lively colors, the long ends of which fluttered behind her in the air,
+was wound around her delicate waist. The childlike and charming visage
+of the Emperor's daughter, now enhanced by the ardor of her run, shone
+with the flush of health. Blushing at the sight of Vortigern, Thetralde
+dropped her large blue eyes, while the tight corsage of her robe rose
+and sank under the throbs of her maidenly bosom. Vortigern's disturbance
+equalled Thetralde's. Like her, he remained mute and embarrassed. His
+eyes also were lowered, and he felt his heart beat violently. The silent
+embarrassment of the two children was broken by Thetralde.<a name="page_060" id="page_060"></a> In a timid
+and diffident voice she said to the young Breton without daring to raise
+her eyes to him:</p>
+
+<p>"I thought I would never be able to join thee. Thy horse had such a long
+lead of my palfrey&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"My horse carried me away&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I noticed it&mdash;my sister Hildrude also," Thetralde added frowning
+with her pretty eyebrows. "Both of us thereupon rushed in thy
+pursuit&mdash;we feared that in thy unacquaintance with the paths of our
+forest thou mightest lose thy way."</p>
+
+<p>"It did seem to me that I heard the gallop of two horses&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"My sister wished to run ahead of me; but I struck her horse on the head
+with my whip. The frightened animal bolted to one side, carrying
+Hildrude along. She was angry and uttered a cry of rage."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps she runs some danger!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, my sister will be able to master her horse. But as the mist is very
+thick, she will not be able to meet us again. I am so happy about that!"</p>
+
+<p>Vortigern felt on the rack. Nevertheless, an ineffable sense of joy
+mingled with his agony. Anew the two children remained silent, and again
+the daughter of the Emperor of the Franks was the one to break the
+silence:</p>
+
+<p>"Thou dost not speak&mdash;art thou annoyed that I have joined thee?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, lovely princess&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps thou thinkest me wicked because I struck my sister's horse?
+When I saw her striving to pass me, I no longer could control myself."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope that no ill may have befallen your sister."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so too."<a name="page_061" id="page_061"></a></p>
+
+<p>For a moment Thetralde and Vortigern again relapsed into silence. With a
+slight touch of vexation the young girl once more resumed the
+conversation:</p>
+
+<p>"Thou art very quiet&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I know not what to say&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Nor I either; and yet I was dying with the wish to speak to thee&mdash;what
+is thy name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Vortigern."</p>
+
+<p>"I am called Thetralde&mdash;pronounce my name."</p>
+
+<p>"Thetralde&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I love to hear thee pronounce my name."</p>
+
+<p>"Where do you think the hunt is now?" asked the young Breton with
+increasing uneasiness. "It will be difficult to find the hunters. The
+mist grows ever denser."</p>
+
+<p>"Should we lose ourselves," Thetralde replied laughing, "I do not know
+the paths of the forest."</p>
+
+<p>"Why did you not, then, remain near the people of the court and the
+seigneurs of the escort?"</p>
+
+<p>"I saw thee running off rapidly, and I followed thee."</p>
+
+<p>"That throws both you and me into a great perplexity."</p>
+
+<p>"Art thou sorry to find thyself alone here with me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not at all!" cried Vortigern, "only I fear that this dense mist may
+change into rain towards evening, and that you may get wet. We should
+try and join the chase. Do you not think so?"</p>
+
+<p>"In what direction shall we go?"</p>
+
+<p>"It seemed to me a moment ago I heard the feeble sound of horns at a
+great distance."</p>
+
+<p>"Let us listen again," said Thetralde, bending her charming head to one
+side, while Vortigern sought to listen from the opposite side.<a name="page_062" id="page_062"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Dost thou hear anything?" queried the Emperor's daughter raising her
+sweet voice and addressing Vortigern, who stood at a little distance. "I
+can hear nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"Nor I either," rejoined the young Breton.</p>
+
+<p>"Here we are lost!" cried the young girl laughing merrily. "And if night
+overtakes us, what a terrible thing!"</p>
+
+<p>"And you laugh at such a plight?"</p>
+
+<p>"Is it that thou art afraid, and thou a soldier?" But immediately the
+handsome face of Thetralde assumed an uneasy look and she observed:
+"Does thy wound hurt thee, my brave companion?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am not thinking of my wound. I am only uneasy at perceiving that the
+mist grows still thicker. How can we regain our route? Whither could we
+go?"</p>
+
+<p>"But I do wish to speak of thy wound," replied Charles' daughter with
+infantine impatience. "Why is not thy arm any longer protected by a
+scarf, as it was yesterday?"</p>
+
+<p>"It would have incommoded me in the chase."</p>
+
+<p>Thetralde quickly detached her long belt of Tyrean silk and held it out
+to Vortigern. "Take this, my belt will take the place of thy scarf, and
+sustain thy arm."</p>
+
+<p>"It is unnecessary, I assure you."</p>
+
+<p>"Bad boy!" cried Thetralde, holding out her belt to Vortigern; and
+fixing upon him her beautiful blue eyes, almost imploringly said: "I beg
+of thee; do not refuse me!"</p>
+
+<p>Vanquished by the timid and loving look, the young Breton accepted the
+scarf; but as he held the reins of his horse with one hand he found it
+difficult to fasten the belt into a scarf-band around his neck.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait," and Thetralde approached her palfrey close to Vortigern's horse,
+leaned over in her saddle, took the two<a name="page_063" id="page_063"></a> ends of the belt and tied them
+behind the lad's neck. The touch of the young girl's hand sent so wild a
+thrill through his frame that Thetralde, noticing the circumstance,
+said, as she finished the knot: "Thou tremblest&mdash;is it out of fear, or
+out of cold?"</p>
+
+<p>"The mist is becoming so thick, so wet," answered Vortigern, with
+increasing uneasiness. "Are not you yourself cold? I very much fear for
+you in this icy mist&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Fear not for me. But seeing thou art cold, we can walk our horses. It
+would be useless to move any faster. Perhaps the chase that we are in
+search of will come our way."</p>
+
+<p>"So much the better!"</p>
+
+<p>"I am delighted to learn that thy grandfather and thyself will remain a
+long time with us."</p>
+
+<p>"May we be fortunate enough to do so!"</p>
+
+<p>The two children continued their way, walking their horses side by side
+in the long avenue, where one could see not twenty paces ahead, so thick
+had the mist become. Night presently began to draw near. After a short
+interval of mutual silence, Thetralde resumed:</p>
+
+<p>"We Franks are the enemies of the people of thy country; and yet I feel
+no enmity whatever towards thee; and thou, dost thou entertain any
+hatred for me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I could not feel hatred for a young girl."</p>
+
+<p>"Thou must feel very sorry for being far away from thy own country.
+Wouldst thou wish me to ask the Emperor, my father, to render grace to
+thy grandfather and thyself?"</p>
+
+<p>"A Breton never asks for grace!" proudly cried Vortigern. "My
+grandfather and I are hostages, prisoners on parole; we shall submit to
+the law of war."</p>
+
+<p>A fresh interval of silence followed upon this exchange of<a name="page_064" id="page_064"></a> words. But
+soon, as Vortigern had foreseen, the dense mist changed into a fine and
+penetrating rain.</p>
+
+<p>"The rain is upon us!" exclaimed the young Breton. "Not a sound is
+heard. This route seems to be endless. No! here is a side path to the
+left. Shall we take it?"</p>
+
+<p>"As it may please thee," answered Thetralde with indifference.</p>
+
+<p>The girl was about to turn her horse's head, agreeable to the suggestion
+of Vortigern, when the latter suddenly leaped down from his mount,
+detached the belt of his sword, took off his blouse, remaining in his
+thick jacket of the material of his breeches, and said to Thetralde:</p>
+
+<p>"I consented to accept your scarf. It is now your turn. You must now
+consent to cover yourself with my blouse. It will serve you for a
+mantle."</p>
+
+<p>"Place it on my shoulders," answered Thetralde blushing; "I dare not
+drop the reins of my palfrey."</p>
+
+<p>No less agitated than his girl companion, Vortigern drew near her and
+laid his garment on the shoulders of Thetralde. But when it came to
+tying the sleeves of the blouse around her neck and almost upon the
+palpitating bosom of the young girl, who, with her eyes lowered and her
+cheeks burning, raised her little pink chin in order to afford Vortigern
+full ease in the accomplishment of his kindly office, the hands of the
+lad shook so violently, that his mission was not accomplished until
+after repeated trials.</p>
+
+<p>"Thou art cold; thou art shivering worse than thou didst before."</p>
+
+<p>"It is not the cold that makes me shiver&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"What ails thee then?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know not&mdash;the uneasiness that I feel on your behalf,<a name="page_065" id="page_065"></a> seeing that
+night approaches. We have lost our way in the forest. The rain is coming
+down heavier. And we know not what road to take&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Interrupting her companion with a cry of joy, Thetralde pointed with her
+finger to one side of the avenue of trees that they were on, and
+exclaimed: "There is a hut down yonder!"</p>
+
+<p>So there was. Vortigern perceived in the center of a cluster of
+centenarian chestnut trees a hut constructed of thick layers of peat
+heaped upon one another. A narrow opening gave entrance to the bower,
+before which the remnants of some dry wood recently lighted were still
+seen smouldering. "It is one of the huts in which the woodcutter slaves
+take refuge during the day when it rains," explained Thetralde. "We
+shall be then under cover. Tie thy horse to a tree and help me alight."</p>
+
+<p>At the bare thought of sharing the solitary retreat with the young girl,
+Vortigern felt his heart thump under his ribs. A flush of burning fever
+rose to his face while, nevertheless, he shivered. After a moment's
+hesitation, the lad complied with the orders of his companion. He tied
+his horse to a tree, and, in order to assist the young girl to alight
+from her mount, he extended to her his arms and received within them the
+supple and nimble body of Thetralde. So profound was the emotion
+experienced by Vortigern at the touch of the maid, that he was almost
+overcome. But the daughter of Charles, running towards the hut with
+pretty curiosity, cried out merrily:</p>
+
+<p>"I see a moss-bank in the hut and a supply of dry wood. Let's light a
+fire. There are still some embers burning. Hurry. Hurry."<a name="page_066" id="page_066"></a></p>
+
+<p>The lad hastened to join his companion and stumbled over a large log of
+wood that rolled at his feet. Stooping, he saw strewn about it a large
+number of burrs that had dropped down from the tall chestnut trees
+overhead. At once forgetting his embarrassment, he exclaimed with
+delight:</p>
+
+<p>"A discovery! Chestnuts! Chestnuts!"</p>
+
+<p>"What a find," responded Thetralde, no less delighted. "We shall roast
+the chestnuts. I shall pick them up while thou startest the fire."</p>
+
+<p>The young Breton did as suggested by his girl companion, all the more
+readily seeing that he hoped to find in the sport a refuge from the
+vague, tumultuous and ardent thoughts, big at once with delight and
+anxiety, that he had been a prey to from the moment of his meeting with
+Thetralde. He entered the hut, took up several bunches of dry wood and
+rekindled the brasier into flame, while the daughter of Charles, running
+hither and thither, gathered a large supply of chestnuts which she
+brought into the hut in a fold of her dress. Letting herself down upon
+the moss-bank that lay at the further end of the hut, the interior of
+which was now brightly lighted by the glare of the fire which burned
+near the entrance, she said to Vortigern, motioning him to a seat near
+her:</p>
+
+<p>"Sit down here, and help me shell these chestnuts."</p>
+
+<p>The lad sat down near Thetralde and entered with her into a contest of
+swiftness in the shelling of chestnuts, during which, like herself, he
+more than once pricked his fingers in the effort to extract the ripe
+kernels from their burrs. Presently, looking into her face, he said
+archly:</p>
+
+<p>"And here you have the daughter of the Emperor of the<a name="page_067" id="page_067"></a> Franks; seated
+inside of a peat hut and shelling chestnuts like any woodchopper and
+slave's daughter."</p>
+
+<p>"Vortigern," answered Thetralde, returning the look of her companion
+with a radiant face, "never was the daughter of the Emperor of the
+Franks more happy than at this moment."</p>
+
+<p>"And I, Thetralde, I swear to you that since the day I left my mother,
+my sister and Brittany, I have never been more pleased than to-day, than
+now, near you."</p>
+
+<p>"And if to-morrow should resemble to-day? and if it should be thus for a
+long time, a very long time&mdash;wouldst thou always be pleased?"</p>
+
+<p>"And you, Thetralde?"</p>
+
+<p>"Say 'thou' to me. We address one another with 'thou' in Germany. Say to
+me: 'And thou, Thetralde?'"</p>
+
+<p>"But the respect&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I say 'thou' to you, and do not respect you the less for it," rejoined
+the maid laughing. "Say to me: 'And thou, Thetralde?'"</p>
+
+<p>"And thou, Thetralde?"</p>
+
+<p>"So thou wishest to know whether I would be happy at the thought of all
+our days resembling this one, and our living together?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my charming Princess!"</p>
+
+<p>The young maid remained pensive, holding in her delicate fingers a half
+opened chestnut husk. Presently she raised her head and broke the
+silence with the question: "Vortigern, is it far from here to thy
+country?"</p>
+
+<p>"It took us more than a month to come here from Brittany."</p>
+
+<p>"Vortigern, what a beautiful journey that would make!"<a name="page_068" id="page_068"></a></p>
+
+<p>"What sayest thou?"</p>
+
+<p>Thetralde made a charming gesture commanding silence: "Hast thou any
+money about thee?"</p>
+
+<p>And proceeding to detach from her belt a little embroidered purse, she
+emptied its contents into her lap. There were several heavy pieces of
+gold and a large number of smaller pieces of silver and copper. Two of
+the latter, one of silver and one of copper, and both of about the size
+of a denier, were pierced and tied together by a thread of gold. "This
+is all my treasure," the girl observed.</p>
+
+<p>"Why are these two pieces tied together?" inquired Vortigern, with a
+look of curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, these two must never be spent. We must preserve them carefully. One
+of them, the copper one, was struck the year of my birth; the other, the
+silver one, was struck this year, when I shall be fifteen. Fabius, my
+father's astronomer, has engraved upon these pieces certain magical
+signs corresponding to planets of happy influence. The Bishop of
+Aix-la-Chapelle blessed them. They are a talisman."</p>
+
+<p>"If it were not that they are a talisman, Thetralde, I would have
+requested these two little pieces from thee as a souvenir of this day."</p>
+
+<p>"To what purpose wouldst thou keep a souvenir of this day rather than of
+the next days to follow? Dost thou not desire that all should resemble
+one another? If thou desirest these two little pieces, here, take them;
+I give them to thee. A talisman is a useful thing on a journey. Place
+them in the pocket of thy jacket."</p>
+
+<p>Vortigern obeyed almost mechanically, while the young girl, after
+ingenuously counting up her little hoard, resumed, saying: "We here have
+five gold sous, eight silver deniers,<a name="page_069" id="page_069"></a> and twelve copper deniers;
+besides my bracelets, my necklace and my earrings. With that we shall
+have money enough to journey as far as Brittany. Night is upon us; we
+shall spend it under the shelter of this hut. To-morrow we shall have
+the woodcutter slave lead us to Werstern, a little burg situated on the
+skirt of the forest, about two leagues from Aix-la-Chapelle. We shall
+buy some simple clothing for myself, a traveling cloak of cloth.
+To-morrow at daybreak we shall start on our route. Do not fear that I
+shall recoil before fatigue. I am neither as tall nor as strong as my
+sister Hildrude, and yet, if thou shouldst be tired or wounded, I am
+sure I could carry thee on my back, just as my sister Imma once carried
+her lover Eginhard on hers. But our chestnuts are now all shelled. Come
+and help me to put them under the hot ashes. We shall eat them when
+roasted."</p>
+
+<p>Raising with one hand the fold of her robe in which lay the nuts,
+Thetralde ran to the brasier. Vortigern followed her. He felt as in a
+dream. At times his reason gave way under the spell of an ardent and
+intoxicating vertigo. He knelt down silently, disturbed in mind, beside
+Thetralde before the brasier, into which the girl, steeped in thought,
+was slowly throwing the chestnuts one by one. Without, the rain had
+stopped; but the mist, now thickened to a fog with the approach of
+night, rendered the darkness complete. The reflection of the brasier
+only lighted up the charming faces of the two children on their knees
+beside each other. When the last chestnut had followed the others under
+the cinders, Thetralde rose, and leaning with familiar candor on
+Vortigern's shoulders said to him, taking his hand:</p>
+
+<p>"And now, while thy supper is cooking, let us go back and sit down upon
+the bench of moss for me to finish telling thee my prospects. I have
+thought over what we are to do."<a name="page_070" id="page_070"></a></p>
+
+<p>The night became profound. The flickering, vacillating flame in the
+expiring brasier seemed to cry for fresh fuel. The chestnuts, that had
+been consigned to its warmth, snapped noisily from their hulls into the
+air, announcing that their toothsome pulp was ready to be partaken of.
+Without, the horse and the palfrey of Vortigern and Thetralde pawed the
+ground and neighed impatiently, as if calling for their provender. The
+fire finally went out. The chestnuts changed to charcoal. The neighings
+of the horses resounded ever louder in the midst of the nocturnal
+silence of the forest. Thetralde and Vortigern did not issue from the
+hut.<a name="page_071" id="page_071"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h3>
+
+<h4>AT THE MORT.</h4>
+
+<p>From the start of the hunt, the Emperor of the Franks had rushed
+headlong on the heels of the hounds. Amael, at first somewhat uneasy at
+the disappearance of his grandson in the midst of so large a concourse
+of cavaliers, was taken by accident towards that part of the forest
+whither the stag was leading the hounds from cover to cover. Amael even
+had the opportunity to assist, shortly before nightfall, at the killing
+of the stag, which, exhausted with fatigue after four hours of
+breathless running, turned at bay before the hounds when they had
+reached him at last, and strove to defend himself against them with the
+aid of the magnificent spread of antlers that crowned his head. The
+Emperor had not for a moment lost track of the hounds. He followed them
+speedily at the mort, together with a few others of the hunters. Jumping
+from his horse, he ran limping towards the animal at bay that already
+had gored several hounds with his sharp horns. Choosing with an
+experienced eye the opportune moment, Charles drew his hunting knife,
+and, rushing upon the desperate animal, plunged the weapon into the stag
+just above its shoulder, threw it down and then abandoned it to the
+hounds, that fiercely precipitated themselves upon the warm quarry and
+devoured it amidst the sonorous fanfare of the hunters' horns that thus
+announced the close of the chase and called their scattered fellows to
+reassemble. With his bloody<a name="page_072" id="page_072"></a> knife in his hand, and after having
+contemplated with lively satisfaction the wild pack now red at their
+nozzles and contending with one another for the shreds of the stag's
+flesh, the Emperor's eyes fell upon Amael, to whom he called out gaily:</p>
+
+<p>"Eh, seigneur Breton&mdash;am I not a bold hunter?"</p>
+
+<p>"You will pardon my sincerity, but I find that at this moment the
+Emperor of the Franks, with his long knife in his hand, and his boots
+and coat spattered with blood, looks more like a butcher than like an
+illustrious monarch."</p>
+
+<p>"I feel happy, nevertheless, and consequently inclined to be indulgent,
+seigneur Breton," replied the Emperor, laughing; then, lowering his
+voice, he observed to Amael: "Now, see how the clothes of the seigneurs
+of my court look."</p>
+
+<p>In fact, most of the Emperor's seigneurs and officers, now hastening in
+on horseback to his presence from all sides of the thickets in response
+to the horns, presented an appearance that contrasted sadly with that
+which they had presented a few hours before. Magnificently attired at
+the start of the hunt, those seigneurs, who looked so resplendent in
+their rich tunics of silk, now presented a sight that was as ridiculous
+as it was pitiful. The embroideries on their tunics, at first so rich in
+color, were now frayed, soiled with mud, and torn by the branches of the
+trees and the thorns of the briars; the feathers that floated proudly
+from their caps, now drooped, wet, broken and draggled, resembling long,
+dislocated, and limp fish-bones; the boots of oriental leather had
+vanished under a thick coat of slush, and not a few of them, torn by the
+thorns, exposed their owners' hose, not infrequently also their skin
+itself. They shivered and looked distressed. Charles, on the contrary,
+simply and warmly dressed in his thick<a name="page_073" id="page_073"></a> sheep-skin coat, which reached
+down over his boots of rough leather, and his head covered with his
+badger-skin bonnet, rubbed his hands with a cunning look of satisfaction
+in his eyes at the sight of his courtiers shivering with the cold and
+the wet. After contemplating the spectacle for a moment, Charles made a
+sign of intelligence to Amael and said to him in an undertone:</p>
+
+<p>"Just before breaking ranks for the hunt, I recommended you to observe
+the magnificence of the costumes of these coxcombs, who are as vain as
+Asiatic peacocks, and even more devoid of brains than the bird whose
+spoils they wear. Look at them now&mdash;the fine fellows!" Amael smiled
+approvingly, while the Emperor, shrugging his shoulders, turned to the
+seigneurs with his squalling voice: "Oh, ye most foolish of people,
+which is at this moment the most precious and useful of all our raiment?
+Mine, which I bought with barely a sou? Or yours, which you have had to
+pay for through the nose?"</p>
+
+<p>At this judicious raillery, the courtiers remained silent and confused,
+while the Emperor, placing both his hands on his spacious paunch, roared
+out aloud.</p>
+
+<p>"Charles," Amael said to him unheard by the others, "I prefer to hear
+you speak with that sly wisdom than to see you disemboweling stags."</p>
+
+<p>But the Emperor did not answer the aged Breton. He suddenly interrupted
+the discourse, extending his hand towards a group of nearby serfs, and
+crying out:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! Look at that pretty girl!"</p>
+
+<p>Amael followed with his eyes the direction indicated by Charles and saw
+amid several of the woodcutter slaves of the forest who had been
+attracted by curiosity to see the hunt,<a name="page_074" id="page_074"></a> a young girl barely covered in
+rags, but of remarkable beauty. A much younger child of about ten or
+eleven years held her by the hand. A poor old woman, as wretchedly clad
+as the girl, was in the company of the two. The Emperor of the Franks,
+whose large eyes glistened like carbuncles with the fire of lust,
+repeated, addressing Amael:</p>
+
+<p>"By the cape of St. Martin! The girl is beautiful. Is it that your
+hundred years on your back render you insensible to the sight of such
+rare beauty, seigneur Breton? What a beautiful girl!"</p>
+
+<p>"Charles, the misery of that creature strikes me more strongly than her
+beauty."</p>
+
+<p>"You are very commiserate, seigneur Breton&mdash;so am I. Linen and silk
+should clothe so charming a figure. No doubt she is the daughter of some
+woodman slave. I can tell you, one runs at times across wonderfully
+beautiful girls in the forest. More than once I have dropped the chase
+in the middle of the heat to pursue another scent. But in honor to
+truth, I have never seen such a charmer before. It must be her good star
+that brought her across the path of Charles." Without removing his eyes
+from the young girl, Charles called to one of the seigneurs in his
+suite: "Eh! Burchard. Come here; I have orders for you."</p>
+
+<p>The seigneur Burchard quickly alighted from his horse and hastened to
+obey the call of the Emperor. The latter, moving a few steps away from
+Amael, whispered a few words in the ear of the seigneur, who, showing
+himself greatly honored with the mission given him by his master, bowed
+respectfully, and, leading his horse by the bridle, approached the old
+woman and the two younger girls who stood by her, motioned to them to
+follow him, and vanished with his charge<a name="page_075" id="page_075"></a> behind the group of hunters. A
+deep flush colored the cheeks of Amael; he puckered his brows, and his
+features became expressive of as much indignation as disgust. At that
+same instant Amael noticed that the Emperor was looking about him with a
+certain degree of uneasiness and calling out aloud:</p>
+
+<p>"Where are my little girls? Can they have lost track of the hunt?"</p>
+
+<p>"August Emperor," said one of the officers, "Richulff, who accompanied
+your august daughters, told me that when the rain began to fall some of
+them concluded to return to Aix-la-Chapelle, while the others decided to
+seek the shelter of the pavilion, where you ordered supper to be held
+ready."</p>
+
+<p>"Think of the timorous bodies! I wager that my little Thetralde is not
+among the Amazons who are afraid of a drop of water, and who hastened
+back to the palace. As they are all safe, I shall not worry. Let us
+hasten to the pavilion ourselves, because I am ravenously hungry." And
+remounting his horse, the Emperor added: "We shall find at the pavilion
+the damsels who have preferred to sup with their father. The
+stout-hearted lasses shall be well feasted, and I shall bestow rich
+presents upon them."</p>
+
+<p>Seeing that Charles was manifesting some slight uneasiness on the score
+of his daughters, Amael, in turn, began to feel preoccupied with regard
+to Vortigern, whom, for some time, he had been searching for with his
+eyes among the groups of the approaching knights. As his eyes fell upon
+Octave, who just then came running in at a gallop, the aged Breton
+inquired from him with no little anxiety:</p>
+
+<p>"Octave, have you seen my grandson anywhere?"</p>
+
+<p>"We parted company almost at the very start of the hunt."</p>
+
+<p>"He is not with us," proceeded Amael with increasing uneasiness.<a name="page_076" id="page_076"></a> "Night
+is here and he is not familiar with the paths of the forest."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! Oh! seigneur Breton," put in the Emperor of the Franks, who,
+immediately upon remounting his horse, had drawn near the aged man and
+overheard his question to the young Roman, "you seem to feel uneasy
+about your youngster. Well, what if he should have lost his way this
+evening? He will find it again to-morrow. Do you fear he will die of one
+night spent in the forest? Is not hunting the school of war? Come, come!
+Be at ease. Besides, who knows," added Charles with a roguish air.
+"Mayhap he encountered some pretty woodcutter's daughter in some of the
+huts of the forest. It is like his years. You surely do not mean to make
+a monk of him? Pretty lassies are meant for handsome lads."<a name="page_077" id="page_077"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h3>
+
+<h4>EMPEROR AND HOSTAGE.</h4>
+
+<p>Led by the Emperor of the Franks, the cavalcade of hunters rode towards
+the pavilion where supper was to be partaken of before the return to
+Aix-la-Chapelle. Charles called Amael to his side, and noticing, as they
+rode, that the aged Breton continued preoccupied about Vortigern, the
+Emperor turned to the centenarian with a merry twinkle in his eye:</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think of this day? Have you recovered from your prejudices
+against Charles the Fighter? Do you think me at all worthy to govern my
+Empire, a domain as vast as the old Empire of Rome? Do you deem me
+worthy of reigning over the population of Armorica?"</p>
+
+<p>"Charles, in my youth your grandfather proposed to me that I be the
+jailer of the last descendant of Clovis, an ill-starred boy, then a
+prisoner in an abbey, and having barely one suit of clothes to cover
+himself with. That boy, when grown to man's estate, was, upon orders of
+Pepin, your father, tonsured and locked up in a monastery, where he died
+obscure and forgotten. Thus do royalties end. Such is the expiation,
+prompt or late, reserved for royal stocks that issue from conquest."</p>
+
+<p>"Then the stock of Charles, whom the whole world calls the Great,"
+rejoined the Emperor with an incredulous and<a name="page_078" id="page_078"></a> proud smile, "is,
+according to your theory, destined to run out obscurely in some
+do-nothing king?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is my firm conviction."</p>
+
+<p>"I took you at first for a man of good judgment," replied the Emperor
+shrugging his shoulders; "I must now admit that I was mistaken."</p>
+
+<p>"This very morning, in your Palatine school, you observed that the
+children of the poor studied with zeal, while the children of the rich
+are lazy. The reason is plain. The former feel the need of work to
+insure their well-being; the latter, being provided with and in
+possession of ample fortunes, make no effort to acquire knowledge. It is
+to them superfluous. Your ancestors, the stewards of the palace, have
+done like the children of the poor. Your descendants, however, being no
+longer in need of conquering a crown, will imitate the children of the
+rich."</p>
+
+<p>"Despite a certain appearance of logic, your argument is false. My
+father usurped a crown, but he left to me at the most the Kingdom of
+Gaul. To-day Gaul is but one of the provinces of the immense empire that
+I have conquered. Obviously, I did not remain idle and torpid like the
+rich boys in your comparison."</p>
+
+<p>"The Frankish Kings, together with their leudes, who later became great
+landed seigneurs, and the bishops, plundered Gaul, divided her territory
+among them, and reduced her people to slavery. But after a period, be it
+short or long, learn this, Oh, great Emperor, the people will rise in
+their strength, glorious, terrible, and they will know how to reconquer
+their patrimony and their independence!"</p>
+
+<p>"Let us drop the future and the past. What think you of Charles?"<a name="page_079" id="page_079"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I think that you are mistakenly proud of having almost reconstructed
+the administrative edifice of the Roman emperors, and of causing, like
+them, your will to weigh upon the whole domain, from one end to the
+other. Of all that, nothing will be left after you are gone! All the
+peoples that have been conquered and subjugated by your arms will rise
+in revolt. Your boundless empire, composed of kingdoms that no common
+bond of origin, of customs, or of language holds together, will fall to
+pieces; it will crumble together and will bury your descendants under
+its ruins."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean to imply that Charles the Great will have passed over the
+world like a shadow without leaving behind him any lasting monument of
+his glory?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, your life will not have been worthless. By ceaselessly warring
+against the Frisians, the Saxons and other peoples who wished to invade
+Gaul, you have checked, if not forever, at least for a long time, the
+maraudings of those hordes that ravaged the north and east of our
+unhappy country. But if you have barred the entrance of the barbarians
+into Gaul over land, the sea remains open to them. The Northman pirates
+almost every day make descents upon the coasts of your Empire, and their
+boldness increases to the point that ascending in their vessels the
+Meuse, the Gironde and the Loire, they threaten the very heart of your
+dominion."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, old man! This time, I fear me, your misgivings do not lead you
+astray. The Northmans are the only source of disquiet to my sleep! The
+bare thought of the invasions of those pagans causes me to be overcome
+with involuntary and unexplainable apprehensions. One day, during my
+sojourn at Narbonne, several vessels of those accursed people extended
+their piratical incursion into the very port. A sinister presentiment<a name="page_080" id="page_080"></a>
+seized me; despite all I could do to restrain them, the tears rolled out
+of my eyes. One of my officers asked me the reason for my sudden fit of
+sadness. 'Do you wish to know, my faithful followers,' I answered, 'do
+you wish to know why I weep so bitterly? Certes, I do not fear that
+these Northmans may injure me with their piracies; but I feel profoundly
+afflicted at the thought that, in my very lifetime, they have the
+audacity of touching upon the borders of my Empire; and great is my
+grief because I have a presentiment of the sufferings that these
+Northmans will inflict upon my descendants and my peoples;'" and the
+Emperor remained for several minutes as if overpowered by the sinister
+premonition that he now recalled.</p>
+
+<p>"Charles," Amael resumed with a grave voice, "all royalty that issues
+from conquest, or from violence, carries within itself the germ of
+death, for the reason that its principle is iniquitous. Perchance those
+Northman pirates may some day cause your stock to expiate the original
+iniquity of the royal sway that you hold from conquest."</p>
+
+<p>Whether, absorbed in his own thoughts, the Emperor failed to hear the
+last words of the Gaul, or whether he could make no answer to them, he
+suddenly cried out:</p>
+
+<p>"Let us forget the accursed Northmans. Speak to me of the good that I
+have done. Your words of praise are rare; I like them all the more for
+that."</p>
+
+<p>"You are not cruel out of wilfulness, although you might be reproached
+for the massacre of more than four thousand Saxon prisoners."</p>
+
+<p>"I remember the event perfectly," Charles said with emphasis. "I had to
+terrify those barbarians by a signal example. It was a fatal
+necessity!"<a name="page_081" id="page_081"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Your heart is accessible to certain promptings of justice and humanity.
+In your capitularies you made an effort to improve the condition of the
+slaves and the colonists."</p>
+
+<p>"It was my duty as a Christian, as a Catholic. All men are brothers."</p>
+
+<p>"You are no more Christian than your friends, the bishops. You have
+simply yielded to an instinct of humanity, natural to man, whatever his
+religion may be. But still you are not a Christian."</p>
+
+<p>"By the King of the Heavens! Perhaps I am a Jew?"</p>
+
+<p>"Christ said, according to St. Luke the Evangelist: <i>The Lord hath sent
+me to preach deliverance to the captives&mdash;to set at liberty them that
+are bruised.</i> Now, then, your dominions are full of prisoners carried by
+conquest from their own homes; the estates of your bishops and your
+abbots are stocked with slaves. Accordingly, neither you nor your
+priests are Christians. A Christian, according to the words of the
+Christ, must never hold his fellowman in bondage. All men are equal."</p>
+
+<p>"Custom so wills it; I merely conform myself thereto."</p>
+
+<p>"What is there to hinder you, and the bishops as well as you, all-mighty
+Emperor that you are, from abolishing the abominable custom? What is
+there to hinder you from emancipating the slaves? What is there to
+hinder you from restoring to them, along with their liberty, the
+possession of the land that they themselves render fruitful with the
+sweat of their brow?"</p>
+
+<p>"Old man, from time immemorial there have been slaves, and there ever
+will be slaves. What would it avail to be of the conquering race if not
+to keep the fruits of conquest? By the King of the Heavens! Do you take
+me for a barbarian?<a name="page_082" id="page_082"></a> Have I not promulgated laws, founded schools,
+encouraged letters, arts and sciences? Is there in the whole world a
+city comparable with Aix-la-Chapelle?"</p>
+
+<p>"Your gorgeous capital of Aix-la-Chapelle, the capital of your Germanic
+possessions, is not Gaul. Gaul has remained to you a strange country.
+You love forests that lend themselves to your autumn hunting parties,
+and the rich domains, whence every year the revenues are carted to your
+residences on the other side of the Rhine. But you do not love Gaul,
+seeing that you exhaust her resources in men and money in order to carry
+on your wars. Frightful misery desolates our provinces. Millions of
+God's creatures, deprived almost of bread, shelter and clothes, toil
+from dawn to dusk, and die in slavery&mdash;all in order to sustain the
+opulence of their masters. If you cause instruction to be given to some
+pupils in your Palatine school, you allow, on the other hand, millions
+of God's creatures to live like brutes! Such is the condition of Gaul
+under your reign, Charles the Great!"</p>
+
+<p>"Old man," rejoined the Emperor, with a somber face and rising anger,
+"after treating you as a friend this whole day, I looked for different
+language. You are more than severe, you are unjust."</p>
+
+<p>"I have been sincere towards you, the same as I was towards your
+grandfather."</p>
+
+<p>"Mindful of the service that you rendered my grandfather at the battle
+of Poitiers, I meant to be generous towards you. I meant to do the right
+thing by myself, by your people, and by you. I hoped to see you, after
+this day spent in close intimacy with me, drop your prejudices, and to
+be able to say to you: I have vanquished the Bretons by force of arms; I
+desire to affirm my conquest by persuasion. Return to your<a name="page_083" id="page_083"></a> country;
+report to your countrymen the day that you spent with Charles; they will
+trust your words, seeing that they place implicit confidence in you. You
+were the soul of the last two wars that they sustained against me. Be
+now the soul of our pacification. A conquest founded on force is often
+ephemeral; a conquest cemented in mutual affection and esteem is
+imperishable. I trust in your loyalty to gain the hearts of the Bretons
+to me. Such was my hope. The bitter injustice of your words dashes it.
+Let us think of it no more. You shall remain here as a hostage. I shall
+treat you as a brave soldier, who saved my grandfather's life. Perhaps
+in time you will judge me more justly. When that day shall have come,
+you will be allowed to return to your own country, and I feel sure you
+will then tell them what is right, as to-day you would only tell them
+what is wrong. All things will come in due season."</p>
+
+<p>"Although your hopes can not realize the object that you proposed, they,
+nevertheless, are an evidence of a generous soul."</p>
+
+<p>"By the cap of St. Martin! You Bretons are a strange people. What! If
+you should believe that I deserve esteem and affection, and if your
+countrymen should share your opinion, would neither you nor they accept
+with joy the authority that you now submit to by force?"</p>
+
+<p>"With us it is no question of having a more or less worthy master. We
+want no master."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet I am your master, ye pagans!"</p>
+
+<p>"Until the day when we shall have reconquered our independence by a
+successful insurrection."</p>
+
+<p>"You will be crushed to dust, exterminated! I swear it by the beard of
+the eternal Father."<a name="page_084" id="page_084"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Exterminate the last of the Breton Gauls, strangle all the children,
+and you will then be able to reign over the desert of Armorica. But so
+long as there lives a single man of our race in our country, you may be
+able to vanquish, but never to subjugate it."</p>
+
+<p>"But tell me, old man, is it that my rule is so terrible, and my laws so
+hard?"</p>
+
+<p>"We want no foreign domination. To live according to the laws of our
+fathers, freely and as becomes free men, to choose our chiefs, to pay no
+tribute, to lock ourselves up within our own frontiers and to defend
+them&mdash;these are our aspirations. Accept them and you will have nothing
+to fear from us."</p>
+
+<p>"To dictate conditions to me! to me, who reign as sovereign master over
+all Europe! To have a miserable population of shepherds and husbandmen
+impose conditions to me! to me, whose arms have conquered the world!
+Impudence can reach no further!"</p>
+
+<p>"I might answer you that, in order to vanquish that miserable population
+of shepherds, of woodmen and husbandmen entrenched in their mountain
+fastnesses, behind their rocks, their marshes and their forests, your
+veteran bands had to be requisitioned for Gaul&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," cried the Emperor in a vexed voice, "in order to keep your
+accursed country in obedience, I am forced to leave there my choicest
+troops, troops that I may need at any moment here in Germany, where I
+have hard battles to fight."</p>
+
+<p>"That must be an unpleasant thing to you, Charles, I admit. Without
+mentioning the maritime invasions of the Northmans, there are the
+Bohemians, the Hungarians, the Bavarians, the Lombards and so many other
+people whom<a name="page_085" id="page_085"></a> your arms have overcome, the same as they overcame us, the
+Bretons&mdash;all vanquished, but none subjugated. From one moment to the
+other they may rise anew, and, what is graver still, menace the very
+heart of your Empire. As to us, on the contrary, all that we demand is
+to live free; we never think of going beyond our frontiers."</p>
+
+<p>"Who guarantees to me that, once my troops, are out of your infernal
+country, you will not forthwith resume your armed excursions and attacks
+against the Frankish forces that are bivouacked on this side of your
+borders?"</p>
+
+<p>"The other provinces are Gallic like ourselves. Our duty bids us to
+provoke them, and to aid them to break the yoke of the Frankish kings.
+But the thoughtful people among us are of the opinion that the hour for
+revolt has not yet come. For the last four centuries the Catholic
+priests have moulded the minds of the people to slavery. Alas, centuries
+will pass before they re-awaken from their present stupor. You admit
+that it is dangerous for you to be compelled to keep a portion of your
+best troops tied up in Brittany. Recall your army. I give you my word as
+a Breton, and I am, moreover, authorized to make the pledge in the name
+of our tribes, that, so long as you live, we shall not go out of our
+frontiers."</p>
+
+<p>"By the King of the Heavens! The joke is rather too harsh. Do you take
+me for a fool? Do I not know that, if I grant you a truce by withdrawing
+my troops, you will take advantage of it to prepare anew for war after
+my death? But we shall always know how to suppress your uprisings."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, we shall certainly take up arms if your sons fail to respect our
+liberties."</p>
+
+<p>"And you really expect me&mdash;me, the vanquisher, to consent to a shameful
+truce? To consent to withdraw my forces<a name="page_086" id="page_086"></a> from a country that it has cost
+me so much trouble to overcome?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very well; leave, then, your army in Brittany, but depend upon it that,
+within a year or two, new insurrections will break out."</p>
+
+<p>"Insane old man! How dare you hold such language to me when you, your
+grandson, and four other Breton chiefs are my hostages! Oh! I swear by
+the everlasting God, your head will drop at the first sign of an
+insurrection. Do not lean too heavily upon the good nature of the old
+Charles. The terrible example I made of the four thousand prisoners whom
+I took from the revolted Saxons should be proof enough to you that I
+recoil before no act of necessity. Only the dead are not to be feared."</p>
+
+<p>"The Breton chiefs who remained on the way by reason of their wounds,
+and who will speedily join me and my grandson at Aix-la-Chapelle, would,
+no more than my grandson and myself, have accepted the post of hostages
+had the same been without danger. Whatever the fate may be that awaits
+us, we shall not falter in our duty. We are here in the very center of
+your Empire, and well in condition to judge of the opportuneness for an
+uprising. From this very place we will give the signal for a fresh war,
+the moment we think the time is favorable."</p>
+
+<p>"By the King of the Heavens! This audacity has gone far enough!" cried
+the Emperor, pale with rage. "To dare tell me that these traitors,
+according to what they may see and spy near my court, will themselves
+send to Brittany the order to revolt! Oh, I swear by God, from
+to-morrow, from this very evening, both you and your grandson will be
+cast into a dungeon so dark that you will need lynx's eyes to find<a name="page_087" id="page_087"></a> out
+what goes on around here. By the cap of St. Martin! Such insolence is
+enough to turn one into a ferocious beast. Not another word, old man!
+Here we are at the pavilion. I shall now join my daughters. The sight of
+them will console me for your ingratitude!"</p>
+
+<p>Uttering these last words with mingled rage and sorrow, the Emperor put
+his horse to the gallop in order to reach all the quicker the hunting
+pavilion, where he expected to meet his daughters, and satisfy his
+growing hunger. The seigneurs in Charles' suite were about to follow
+their master's example and quicken the steps of their mounts, when the
+Emperor, suddenly turning around, cried out to them, with an imperious
+voice:</p>
+
+<p>"No one shall follow me. I want to be alone with my daughters! You shall
+await my orders near the pavilion."<a name="page_088" id="page_088"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h3>
+
+<h4>FRANK AND BRETON.</h4>
+
+<p>The Emperor rode rapidly forward toward the hunting pavilion. The
+seigneurs of his suite received the angry order of their master with
+silent obedience, and, reining in their horses, proceeded at a slower
+gait towards the rendezvous. Lost among them, Amael rode along, steeped
+in thought, revolving the recent conversation he had with Charles, and
+at the same time more and more a prey to anxiety at the prolonged
+absence of Vortigern. The Emperor's courtiers shivered under their robes
+of silk and drabbled feathers, and silently grumbled at the whim of
+their Emperor, whereby the looked-for time was retarded when they might
+warm themselves at the fire of the pavilion, and revive their spirits
+with supper. Arrived in the close neighborhood of the pavilion, they
+alighted from their horses. They had been conversing together about a
+quarter of an hour, when Amael, who had also alighted and leaned
+pensively against one of the nearby gigantic trees of the forest,
+noticed Octave hastening in his direction and calling out to him:</p>
+
+<p>"Amael, I was looking for you&mdash;come quick!"</p>
+
+<p>The aged Breton tied his horse to the tree and followed Octave. When
+both had walked a little distance away from the group of the Frankish
+seigneurs, the young Roman proceeded:<a name="page_089" id="page_089"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I feel mortally uneasy on the score of Vortigern. Your grandson having
+been carried away by his horse early in the hunt, Thetralde and
+Hildrude, two of the Emperor's daughters, followed him on the spot. What
+may have happened? I can not guess. I am told positively that Hildrude,
+who seemed greatly irritated, rode back to Aix-la-Chapelle with two
+other sisters and all the concubines of the Emperor who had come to the
+chase. Thetralde must have remained alone behind with Vortigern in some
+part of the forest."</p>
+
+<p>"Finish your account."</p>
+
+<p>"I know from experience how easy-going are the morals of this court.
+Thetralde has taken notice of your grandson. She is fifteen, has been
+brought up amidst her sisters, who have as many paramours as their own
+father has mistresses. Despite himself, Vortigern has made a lively
+impression upon the heart of Thetralde. The two are children. They have
+vanished together, and must have been lost together, seeing that three
+of the Emperor's daughters have returned to the palace and the other two
+are at the pavilion. Only Thetralde is not to be found. If she lost her
+way in the company of Vortigern&mdash;I would this morning have been of the
+opinion that it was to be hoped&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Heaven and earth!" broke in the aged Breton, growing pale. "How dare
+you joke on such a matter!"</p>
+
+<p>"This morning I would have considered the adventure highly amusing. This
+evening it seems to me redoubtable. A minute ago, angered at something
+or other, the Emperor clapped both his spurs to his horse's flanks,
+ordered that none should follow him, and rushed towards the pavilion.
+Rothaide and Bertha, daughters of Charles, notified of their father's
+approach by the clatter of his horse, and believing that his<a name="page_090" id="page_090"></a> whole
+suite was with him, sped away to the upper chambers of the
+pavilion&mdash;Bertha with Enghilbert, the handsome Abbot of St. Riquier,
+Rothaide with Audoin, one of the Emperor's officers."</p>
+
+<p>"And then?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Emperor arrives all alone and dismounts. 'Where are my daughters?'
+he calls out impatiently to the Grand Nomenclator of his table who
+happens to be superintending the preparations for the supper. The Grand
+Nomenclator answers in great embarrassment: 'August Emperor, allow me to
+go and announce your arrival to the Princesses; they have withdrawn to
+the upper chambers in order to take some rest while waiting for supper.'
+'I shall go myself and see them,' replies Charles, saying which, he
+clambers up the stairs. Old Vulcan surprising Venus and Mars at their
+amorous escapade, could not have been more furious than was the august
+Emperor when he surprised his daughters in the arms of their gallants.
+The Grand Nomenclator having remained near the door of the staircase
+soon heard an infernal racket in the chambers above. The irate Charles
+was plying his hunting whip right and left over the two amorous couples.
+A profound silence ensued thereupon. The Emperor having the habit of not
+noising such things about came down again, calm in appearance, but pale
+with rage, and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Octave's narrative was at this point suddenly interrupted by tumultuous
+cries that proceeded from the pavilion. Slaves were seen rushing out of
+the building with lighted torches in their hands, and immediately the
+shrill voice of Charles himself was heard calling out:</p>
+
+<p>"To horse! My daughter Thetralde has lost her way in the forest! She has
+not returned to the palace&mdash;and she is<a name="page_091" id="page_091"></a> not here in the pavilion. Take
+the torches&mdash;and to horse! To horse!"</p>
+
+<p>"Amael, in the name of your grandson's welfare," whispered Octave
+precipitately in the Breton's ear, "follow me at a distance. There is
+just one chance left to us of saving Vortigern from the Emperor's rage."
+Saying this, the young Roman disappeared among the seigneurs of the
+court who were hastening towards their horses, while Charles, whose
+rage, restrained for a moment, now exploded with renewed fierceness,
+screeched at them:</p>
+
+<p>"Look at them, gaping open-mouthed, like a herd of startled sheep! Let
+each one take a torch and follow one of the avenues of the forest, all
+the while calling out to my daughter as loud as he can. Halloa
+there&mdash;let someone take up a torch and ride ahead of me!"</p>
+
+<p>At these words, Octave seized a torch and approached the Emperor, while
+other seigneurs rode rapidly off in several directions in search of the
+lost Thetralde. The meaning of the hurried recommendation that Octave
+had addressed to him a minute before flashed at this moment clear
+through Amael's mind. Mounting his horse at the same time that Charles
+and the young Roman who bore the torch did theirs, he allowed the two to
+take somewhat the lead of him, and then followed them at a distance,
+guided by the torch that Octave held aloft.</p>
+
+<p>As Octave later narrated to him, the Emperor alternated between fits of
+rage, provoked by the freshest proof of the libertinage to which his
+daughters were addicted, and uneasiness at the disappearance of
+Thetralde. These several sentiments were given vent to by broken words
+that from<a name="page_092" id="page_092"></a> time to time reached the ears of the young Roman who preceded
+Charles by only a few paces.</p>
+
+<p>"My poor child!&mdash;where can she be?&mdash;Perhaps dying of cold and fear&mdash;at
+the bottom of some thicket, perhaps!" murmured the Emperor. Presently he
+would call out at the top of his voice: "Thetralde! Thetralde! Oh, she
+does not hear me! King of the Heavens, have pity upon me. So young&mdash;so
+delicate&mdash;a chilly night like this is enough to kill her. Oh, my unhappy
+old age, that this child might have served to console&mdash;she would not
+have resembled her sisters! Her fifteen year forehead was never
+crimsoned with an evil thought. Oh, dead! Dead, perhaps! No, no&mdash;youth
+is full of pranks! Besides, these daughters, all of whom I have brought
+up like boys, are all accustomed to fatigue. They accompany me during my
+long journeys. But yet, the night is so dark&mdash;and it is so chilly!"
+Whereupon the Emperor would again call out: "Thetralde!" and suddenly
+reining in his horse and listening, the Emperor of the Franks broke the
+silence with the sudden question: "Did you not hear a sound like the
+neighing of a horse?"</p>
+
+<p>"I did, august Prince," answered the young Roman.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen! Listen again!"</p>
+
+<p>Octave kept silent. Soon again the sound of distant neighing broke upon
+the stillness of the forest.</p>
+
+<p>"No doubt any longer. Despairing of finding her way, my daughter must
+have tied her palfrey to a tree!" exclaimed the Emperor, his heart
+bounding with hope. Calling out to Octave, he ordered: "Gallop! Gallop
+faster!" and himself increasing his own speed to the utmost cried out
+uninterruptedly: "Thetralde! Thetralde! Thetralde, my daughter!"</p>
+
+<p>Amael, who followed Charles at a goodly distance, keeping<a name="page_093" id="page_093"></a> himself well
+in the shadow, also fell into a gallop the moment he noticed the
+torchlight that guided him suddenly move with increased swiftness into
+the darkness. The Emperor and Octave were close upon the spot where,
+before entering the woodcutter's hut, Vortigern and Thetralde had tied
+their mounts. The glimmer of the torch fell upon and lighted the white
+body of Thetralde's palfrey, throwing into the shade Vortigern's horse
+that was tied a few steps further away. The Emperor recognized his
+daughter's favorite mount, and cried out:</p>
+
+<p>"Thetralde's palfrey!" and immediately thereupon perceiving the hut
+itself by the light of the torch borne by Octave, he added: "Oh, King of
+the Heavens! Thanks be to you!" The Emperor quickly dismounted and
+walking precipitately towards the hut which lay about twenty paces from
+the path, he called back to Octave: "Walk faster! My daughter is there.
+Precede me!"</p>
+
+<p>Gifted with an eye even more piercing than Charles', Octave had
+recognized with a shudder the horse of Vortigern close to Thetralde's
+palfrey. Foreseeing the outburst of fury that the Emperor was about to
+fall into at the spectacle that Octave surmised awaited his aged eyes,
+the Roman resorted to an extreme measure. Affecting to stumble, he
+dropped the torch in the hope of extinguishing it at his feet, as if by
+accident. But Charles quickly stooped down, as quickly raised it and
+rushed forward towards the entrance of the hut. Trembling with fear, the
+young Roman followed closely behind the Emperor. Charles suddenly stood
+still as if petrified at the threshold of the hut, whose interior was
+now brilliantly lighted by the torch in the Emperor's hand. Having also
+dismounted, Amael was enabled, without his steps being<a name="page_094" id="page_094"></a> heard by
+Charles, to draw nearer, and stood close to him at the very moment that,
+struck with stupor, the Emperor of the Franks stopped, motionless.</p>
+
+<p>Profoundly asleep, and stretched out upon the floor with his unsheathed
+sword beside him, Vortigern barred the entrance to the hut. In order to
+enter it, an intruder would have been compelled to walk over his body
+that lay across the threshold. In the depth of the retreat, stretched on
+a bed of moss and carefully wrapped in the lad's tunic, Thetralde
+enjoyed a slumber as profound as her guardian at the entrance. The
+girl's head and face, charming in their candor, rested on one of her
+arms that lay folded beneath. So deep was the sleep of the two, that
+neither the young girl nor Vortigern was at first awakened by the glare
+of the torch.</p>
+
+<p>Thick drops of perspiration rolled down from the forehead of the Emperor
+of the Franks. The stupor that first seized him at finding his daughter
+in a solitary hut in the company of the young Breton, was soon followed
+by an expression of undefinable agony. Presently the cruel doubts
+concerning the chastity of his youngest daughter made room for hope when
+he noticed the serenity of the slumber of the two children. The Emperor
+gathered additional comfort from the precaution that Vortigern had taken
+in laying himself athwart the entrance, obedient, no doubt, to a thought
+of respectful and chivalrous solicitude.</p>
+
+<p>Thetralde was the first to open her eyes. The glare of the torch fell
+upon her face. She half raised her head; still half asleep, carried her
+hand to her eyes, and sat up. In a second, seeing her father before her,
+she uttered a cry of such sincere joy, her charming features expressed a
+happiness so utterly free from all embarrassment, that, bounding to her
+father's<a name="page_095" id="page_095"></a> neck, she was pressed by Charles to his heart with delirious
+rapture:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" the Emperor exclaimed, "I fear naught, her forehead is free from
+shame."</p>
+
+<p>The words of the enraptured father reached the ears of Amael, who had
+remained motionless behind the Emperor, whose life was soon in no slight
+danger, seeing that, in her first and spontaneous outburst of joy to
+fall on her father's neck, Thetralde had struck Vortigern with her feet
+as she bounded forward. The young Breton, thus awakened with a start,
+his eyes dazzled by the glare of the torch, and his mind still clouded
+with sleep, grasped his sword and jumped up. At the sight of the two men
+at the entrance of the hut, one of them tightly holding Thetralde in his
+arms, the lad imagined that violence was being attempted upon her. He
+seized Charles by the throat with one hand and, raising his sword in the
+other, cried: "I will kill you!" Immediately, however, recognizing the
+father of Thetralde, Vortigern dropped his weapon, rubbed his eyes, and
+exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"The Emperor of the Franks!"</p>
+
+<p>"Himself, my lad!" replied the Emperor in a cheerful voice, while he
+again kissed the forehead and head of his daughter with almost frantic
+delight. "The vigor of your clutch proves to me that ill would he have
+fared who should have entertained any evil designs against my little
+girl!"</p>
+
+<p>"We are your enemies, and still you received my grandfather and myself
+with kindness," answered the young Breton ingenuously and without
+lowering his eyes before the penetrating looks that Charles shot at him.
+"I have watched over your daughter&mdash;as I should have watched over my own
+sister."<a name="page_096" id="page_096"></a></p>
+
+<p>Vortigern emphasized the words 'my own sister' in such a manner that
+Amael, fully sharing the confidence of Charles, whispered at the
+latter's ear:</p>
+
+<p>"I have no doubt of the purity of these children."</p>
+
+<p>"And you here?" exclaimed the Emperor astonished. "Be welcome, my
+esteemed guest!"</p>
+
+<p>"You looked for your daughter&mdash;I also set out in search of my grandson."</p>
+
+<p>"And I have found her, the dear child!" exclaimed Charles with ineffable
+tenderness, again and again kissing the forehead of Thetralde. "Oh, how
+I do love her&mdash;more than ever before!" And holding the girl close to his
+breast the Emperor moved toward the interior of the hut, and threw
+himself down upon the moss-bench, broken with fatigue. There he seated
+Thetralde upon his knees, and contemplating her with looks of
+unspeakable happiness, said: "Come now, my little one, tell me all about
+your adventure. How did you lose track of the hunt? How did you resign
+yourself to spend the night in this hut?"</p>
+
+<p>"Father," answered the girl, lowering her eyes and hiding her face on
+Charles' breast, "let me collect my thoughts&mdash;I want to tell you all
+that happened, absolutely everything, without concealing aught."</p>
+
+<p>After a short interval that followed Thetralde's answer, Vortigern drew
+near Amael, who tenderly pressed him to his heart, while, standing at a
+little distance, the torch in his hand lighting the scene, the young
+Roman, it must be admitted, looked more astonished than enthusiastic at
+the continence of Vortigern.</p>
+
+<p>"Father," Thetralde resumed, raising her head and attaching her candid
+looks upon the Emperor of the Franks, "I<a name="page_097" id="page_097"></a> must tell you everything. Not
+so? Everything&mdash;absolutely everything?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my little darling, without omitting anything." But after a
+second's reflection, Charles said to Octave: "Plant that torch in the
+ground, and watch our horses with this young lad."</p>
+
+<p>The Roman bowed and obeyed; accompanied by Amael's grandson he stepped
+out of the hut.</p>
+
+<p>"What, father, you send Vortigern out?" remarked Thetralde in an accent
+of sweet reproach. "I would on the contrary, have wished him to remain
+near us, in order to confirm or complete my story, my dear father."</p>
+
+<p>"All you tell me, my dear daughter, I shall believe. Speak, speak
+without fear before me and the grandfather of the worthy lad."</p>
+
+<p>"Yesterday," Thetralde began, "I was on the balcony of the palace when
+Vortigern rode into the courtyard. Learning that he came hither as a
+prisoner, so young, and wounded, besides, I immediately took an interest
+in him. When shortly after, he came near being thrown from his horse,
+perhaps even killed, I was so frightened that I uttered a cry of dread.
+But when Hildrude and myself saw that he proved himself an intrepid
+horseman, we threw our nose-gays to him."</p>
+
+<p>"You both told me how you admired the skilfulness of the lad's
+horsemanship, but you said nothing about the throwing of your bouquets.
+Well, let us proceed&mdash;continue."</p>
+
+<p>"I certainly was very happy at your return home, good father. Yet, I
+must confess to you, it seems to me that my thoughts turned as much on
+Vortigern as on yourself. All night my sister and I talked about the
+young Breton, about<a name="page_098" id="page_098"></a> his gracefulness, about his comely face that was at
+once sweet and bold&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That is all very well&mdash;that is all very well. Let us skip all that, my
+daughter. Let us drop the details concerning the lad's looks."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you object, father, to my telling you all? He made a deep
+impression upon us."</p>
+
+<p>"Let us come to the episode of the chase."</p>
+
+<p>"It was dawn before I fell asleep, but only to dream about Vortigern. We
+saw him again at church. When I was not contemplating his bold and sweet
+face, I was praying for the safety of his soul. After mass, when I
+learned that there was to be a hunting party, my only fear was that he
+might not be one of the party. Judge, then, of my joy, father, when I
+saw him in your retinue. Suddenly his horse took fright and carried him
+off! Before I could reflect I plied the whip upon my palfrey to join
+him. Hildrude followed and tried to pass me. That irritated me. I struck
+her horse on the head. The animal bolted and carried her off in another
+direction. I was alone when I overtook Vortigern. The mist, then the
+rain and thereupon the night fell upon us. We noticed this woodcutter's
+hut and a brasier that was almost extinct. We then said to each other:
+'It is impossible to find our way back, let us spend the night here.'
+Happily we noticed some chestnuts that had dropped on the ground from
+the trees. We gathered them, roasted them under the cinders&mdash;but we
+forgot to eat them&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Because, I suppose, you were both tired, no doubt&mdash;and, in order to
+take rest, you lay down on this moss-bench, and the lad across the
+threshold?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, no, my father! Before falling asleep we chatted<a name="page_099" id="page_099"></a> a good deal,
+we disputed a good deal. It was due to our discussion that Vortigern and
+myself forgot all about the chestnuts. Thereupon sleep overtook us and
+we stretched ourselves to rest."</p>
+
+<p>"But what was the subject, my child, of the discussion between you and
+the lad?"</p>
+
+<p>"Alack! I had wicked thoughts&mdash;those thoughts were combatted by
+Vortigern with all his might. It was upon that that our dispute ran. But
+I must admit that, after all, he was right. You will never believe me. I
+wanted to flee from Aix-la-Chapelle and go to Brittany with
+Vortigern&mdash;to marry him."</p>
+
+<p>"To leave me&mdash;my daughter&mdash;abandon your father&mdash;me, who love you so
+much?"</p>
+
+<p>"Those were the very arguments of Vortigern. 'Thetralde, dost thou think
+well,' he said to me, 'to leave thy father who loves thee? Wouldst thou
+have the regrettable courage to cause him so deep a grief? And as to
+myself, whom, as well as my grandfather, he has treated with kindness,
+should I be thy accomplice? No! No! Moreover, I am here a prisoner on
+parole. To flee would be to disgrace myself. My mother would refuse to
+see me.' 'Thy mother loves thee too much not to pardon thee,' I said to
+Vortigern; 'my father also will pardon me; he is so good! Did he not
+show himself indulgent towards my sisters, who have their lovers as he
+has his mistresses? To love can neither hurt nor injure others. Once
+married, we shall return to my father. Happy at seeing us again, he will
+forget everything else, and we shall live near him as do Eginhard and my
+sister Imma.' But Vortigern, ever inflexible, returned incessantly upon
+his word as a prisoner and the grief that his flight would cause his
+mother<a name="page_100" id="page_100"></a> and grandfather. His warm tears mingled with mine as he consoled
+and chide me for the child that I was. Finally, after our dispute had
+lasted a long while, and we had wept a good deal, he said to me:
+'Thetralde, it is now late; thou surely must feel fatigued; thou
+shouldst lie down on this bed of moss; I shall lay myself across the
+entrance with my bare sword at my side, to defend thee, if need be.' I
+did begin to feel sleepy; Vortigern covered me with his tunic; I fell
+asleep and was dreaming about him when I was awakened by you, my
+father."</p>
+
+<p>The Emperor of the Franks listened to the naïve recital with a mixture
+of tenderness, apprehension and grief. At its close he heaved a sigh of
+profound relief that seemed to issue from the silent reflection: "What a
+danger did not my daughter escape!" This thought soon dominated all the
+others that crowded to his mind. Charles again embraced Thetralde
+effusively, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Dear child, your candor charms me. It makes me forget that even for a
+moment you could entertain the thought of running away from your father,
+which would have been a mean thing to do."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! Vortigern made me renounce the wicked project. And, now, as a
+reward to him, you will be good, you will marry us, will you not,
+father?"</p>
+
+<p>"We shall talk later about that. For the present we must think of
+regaining the pavilion, where you will rest awhile. We shall depart to
+Aix-la-Chapelle. Stay here a moment I have a few words to exchange with
+this good old man."</p>
+
+<p>Charles stepped out of the hut with Amael, and as soon as they were a
+few paces away, he turned towards the aged Breton<a name="page_101" id="page_101"></a> with a radiant face
+on which, however, deep concern was depicted:</p>
+
+<p>"Your grandson is a loyal lad; yours is a family of worthy and brave
+people. You saved my grandfather's life; your grandson has respected the
+honor of my daughter. I know but too well the dangers that lie, at the
+age of these children, in the wake of the first impulse of love. Had
+Vortigern yielded, he would have had to pay for it with his life. I am
+happy and by far prefer to praise than to punish."</p>
+
+<p>"Charles, when a few hours ago I expressed to you my uneasiness
+concerning Vortigern's absence, you answered me: 'Good! He will have run
+across some pretty woodcutter's daughter. Love is meet for his years.
+You do not mean to make a monk of the lad?' What, now, if he had treated
+your daughter like a woodcutter's child?"</p>
+
+<p>"By the King of the Heavens! Vortigern would not have left the hut
+alive!"</p>
+
+<p>"Accordingly, it is permissible to dishonor the daughter of a slave, and
+yet shall the dishonor of the daughter of an emperor be punished with
+death? Both are the children of God, alike in His eyes. Why the
+difference in your mind?"</p>
+
+<p>"Old man, these words are senseless!"</p>
+
+<p>"You pretend to be a Christian, and you treat us as pagans! My grandson
+has conducted himself like an honest man; that is all. Honor is dear to
+us Gauls of old Armorica, whose device is: <i>Never did Breton commit
+treason.</i> Will you render me a favor? I shall be eternally grateful to
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"Speak! What do you wish of Charles?"</p>
+
+<p>"A short while ago you seemed struck with the beauty of a poor slave
+girl. You mean to make her one of your concubines. Be magnanimous
+towards the unhappy creature; do<a name="page_102" id="page_102"></a> not corrupt her; render their freedom
+to her and her family; give those people the means to live industriously
+and honorably."</p>
+
+<p>"It shall be so, by the faith of Charles; I promise you. Besides, I
+consent to withdraw my troops from your country, provided you pledge to
+me your faith as a Breton that, during my life, you will not make any
+incursions beyond your own frontiers. Give me your hand, Amael&mdash;your
+loyal hand in sign of acceptance."</p>
+
+<p>"Here it is, Charles," promptly answered Amael, grasping the hand
+proffered by the Emperor. "Let it be the hand of a traitor, and that it
+fall under the axe if our people break the promise! We shall live at
+peace with you. If your descendants respect our liberties, we shall live
+at peace with them."</p>
+
+<p>"Amael, it is sworn!"</p>
+
+<p>"Charles, it is accepted and sworn!"</p>
+
+<p>"Instead of returning to Aix-la-Chapelle, you and your grandson shall
+spend the night in the pavilion of the forest. To-morrow, at early
+daybreak, I shall have your baggage forwarded to you, together with an
+escort, charged to accompany you as far as the frontiers of Armorica.
+You shall depart without delay."</p>
+
+<p>"Your directions will be followed to the letter."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall now return to the pavilion alone with my daughter. I shall tell
+my courtiers that I found her in the hut. Alack! the calumnies of the
+court are cruel. People will not believe in the innocence of Thetralde,
+and if, besides, they should learn that she spent a part of the night
+with your grandson in that obscure retreat, they will take for granted
+all that they now impute to her sisters. Oh! My father's heart<a name="page_103" id="page_103"></a> bleeds
+strangely. I have loved my daughters too much. I have been too indulgent
+towards them! And then also, my continuous wars beyond my own kingdom,
+together with the affairs of state, have prevented me from watching over
+my children. And yet, during my absence, I always left them in the
+charge of priests. Neither were they left idle; they embroidered
+chasubles for the bishops! But, it seems that our Lord God, who has ever
+and otherwise stood at my side, has willed it so, that I be struck in my
+family. His will be done! I am an unhappy father!" Charles thereupon
+called to the Roman:</p>
+
+<p>"Octave, nobody&mdash;do you understand me, nobody&mdash;must know that my
+daughter spent a part of the night in this hut with that young man. Evil
+tongues do not spare even the chastest and most admirable souls. The
+secret of this night is known only by me, my daughter, and these two
+Bretons. I am as certain of their discretion as of my own and
+Thetralde's. You are lost if but a word of this adventure circulates at
+court. It is from you alone that it can have proceeded. If, on the
+contrary, you help me to keep the secret, you may rely upon increasing
+favors from me."</p>
+
+<p>"August Emperor, I shall carry that secret with me into my grave."</p>
+
+<p>"I rely upon it. Fetch me my horse and my daughter's. You are to
+accompany us to the hunting pavilion, and thence to Aix-la-Chapelle. I
+will place you in command of the escort that I give these two hostages
+to return to their own country. I shall furnish you with an order to the
+commander of my army in Brittany. You will start to-morrow, early, with
+the escort to the pavilion of the forest, and you will thence depart for
+Armorica."<a name="page_104" id="page_104"></a></p>
+
+<p>Octave bowed, and the Emperor proceeded, addressing Amael:</p>
+
+<p>"The moon has risen. It sheds sufficient light upon the route. Jump upon
+your horse, with your grandson. Follow this avenue of trees until you
+reach a clearing. Wait there. You will shortly be sent for. I shall
+despatch my messengers to take you to the pavilion, where you are to
+stay until your departure early to-morrow morning. And now, Adieu!"</p>
+
+<p>Amael returned to his grandson, whom he found in a deep study, seated on
+the stump of a tree that bordered the route. The lad was silently
+weeping with his face hidden in his hands, and heard not the steps of
+his grandfather approaching him.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, my boy," said Amael to him in a mild and grave voice. "Let us to
+horse, and depart."</p>
+
+<p>"Depart!" exclaimed Vortigern, with a tremor, rising impetuously to his
+feet and wiping with his hand the tears that moistened his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my boy! To-morrow we start for Brittany, where you will see again
+your mother and sister. The nobility of your conduct has borne its
+fruit. We are free. Charles recalls his troops from Brittany."</p>
+
+<p class="dots">* * * * * * *</p>
+
+<p>Shortly after our return home from Aix-la-Chapelle, my grandfather,
+Amael, wrote the above narrative, which I have faithfully joined to the
+preceding ones of our family. Myself, Vortigern, buried my grandfather
+not long after at the ripe age of one hundred and five years, shortly
+after my own marriage with the loving Josseline. Charles the Great died
+at Aix-la-Chapelle in the year 814.<a name="page_105" id="page_105"></a></p>
+
+<h2 class="top15"><a name="PART_II" id="PART_II"></a>PART II.<br /><br />
+THE CONQUEST OF BRITTANY</h2>
+
+<p><a name="page_107" id="page_107"></a><a name="page_106" id="page_106"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_Ia" id="CHAPTER_Ia"></a>CHAPTER I.</h3>
+
+<h4>IN THE BLACK MOUNTAINS.</h4>
+
+<p>In the year 818, seven years after Amael and his grandson Vortigern left
+the court of Charles, the Emperor of the Franks, to return to their home
+in Brittany, three riders, accompanied by a footman, were one evening
+painfully climbing one of the steep hills of the ridge of the Black
+Mountains, that raise their rugged ribs to the southwest of Armorica.
+When, having reached the top of the rocky pile over which the path wound
+its way, the travelers looked below, they saw at their feet a long chain
+of plains and hillocks, some covered with rye and wheat ready for the
+harvesters, others running northward like vast carpets of heather. Here
+and yonder, vast moors also were perceived stretching out as far as the
+eye could follow. A few straggling villages, reached by an avenue of
+trees, raised the roofs of their houses in the midst of impassible bogs
+that served for natural defences. The panorama was enlivened by herds of
+black sheep that browsed over the ruddy heath or the green valleys,
+watered by innumerable running streams. Among the green were also seen
+steers and cows, and especially a large number of horses of the Breton
+stock, strong for the plow, fiery in war.</p>
+
+<p>The three riders, preceded by the footman, now proceeded to descend the
+further slope of the rugged hill. One of the three, clad in
+ecclesiastical robes, was Witchaire, considered<a name="page_108" id="page_108"></a> one of the richest
+abbots of Gaul. The vast lands of his almost royal abbey bordered on the
+frontiers of Armorica. His two companions, on horseback like himself,
+were monks belonging to his dependency, and both wore the garb of the
+religious Order of St. Benoit. The two monks rode behind the abbot at a
+little distance, leading between them a packsaddle mule loaded with the
+baggage of their superior, a man of short stature, sharp eye, and a
+smile that was at times pious, at other times cunning. The mountain
+guide, a robust, thick-set man in the vigor of life, wore the antique
+costume of the Breton Gauls&mdash;wide breeches of cloth held at the waist by
+a leather belt, a jacket of wool, and, hanging from his shoulders on the
+same side with his wallet, a cloak of goat-skin, although the season was
+summer. His hair, only partly covered with a woolen cap, fell over his
+shoulders. From time to time he leaned upon his <i>pen-bas</i>, a long staff
+made of holly and terminating in a crook.</p>
+
+<p>The burning August sun, now at its hottest, darted its rays upon the
+guide, the two monks and Abbot Witchaire. Reining in his horse, the
+latter said to the guide:</p>
+
+<p>"The heat is suffocating; these granite rocks radiate it upon us as hot
+as if they issued from a furnace; our mounts are exhausted. I decry
+yonder, at our feet, a thick forest; could you not lead us to it? We
+could then take rest in the shade."</p>
+
+<p>Karouer, the guide, shook his head, and answered, pointing with his
+<i>pen-bas</i> in the direction of the dense woods: "To reach them we would
+have to make a leap of two hundred feet, or a circuit of nearly three
+leagues over the mountains. Which shall it be?"</p>
+
+<p>"Let us, then, pursue our route, my trusty guide. But tell<a name="page_109" id="page_109"></a> us how long
+will it take us to arrive in the valley of Lokfern?"</p>
+
+<p>"Look yonder, below, away below, close to the horizon. Do you see the
+last of those bluish crests? That is the Menez-c'Hom, the highest peak
+of the Black Mountains. The other peak towards the west, and lying
+somewhat nearer, is Lach-Renan. It is between those two peaks that lies
+the valley of Lokfern, where Morvan, the husbandman and Chief of
+Brittany lives."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you certain that he will be at his farm-house?"</p>
+
+<p>"A husbandman always returns to his farm-house after sunset. We shall
+find him there."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know Morvan personally?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am of his tribe. I fought under him at the time of our last struggles
+against the Franks, when Charles, the Emperor, lived."</p>
+
+<p>"Is this Morvan married, do you know?"</p>
+
+<p>"His wife Noblede is the worthy spouse of Morvan. She is of the stock of
+Joel. That says everything. We honor and venerate her."</p>
+
+<p>"Who is that Joel, whom you mentioned?"</p>
+
+<p>"One of the worthiest men, whose memory Armorica has preserved green.
+His daughter, Hena, the Virgin of the Isle of Sen, offered her own life
+in sacrifice for the safety of Gaul when the Romans invaded these
+parts."</p>
+
+<p>"I have been told that your people apprehend an invasion of the Franks
+in Brittany, and that you are making ready for a declaration of war from
+Louis the Pious, son of the great Charles."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you seen any preparations for war since you crossed our frontier?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have seen the husbandmen in the fields, the shepherds<a name="page_110" id="page_110"></a> leading their
+flocks, the cities open and tranquil. But it is known that in your
+country, woodmen, husbandmen, shepherds and town folks transform
+themselves into soldiers at a moment's notice."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, when our country is threatened with invasion."</p>
+
+<p>"And do you apprehend such an invasion?"</p>
+
+<p>Karouer looked at the abbot fixedly, smiled sarcastically, made no
+answer, whistled, and presently broke out into a Breton song,
+mechanically whirling his <i>pen-bas</i> as he strode rapidly forward in the
+lead of the three monks.</p>
+
+<p>Night drew on. Karouer and the dignitaries whom he guided, having been
+all day on the march, were now approaching one of the highest points on
+the mountain path that they had been following, when, struck by an
+unexpected spectacle, Witchaire suddenly reined in his horse.</p>
+
+<p>The sight that took the abbot by surprise was, indeed, startling. A
+flame, hardly distinguishable by reason of its great distance, and yet
+perceptible on the horizon, whose outlines the dusk had not yet wholly
+blotted out, had barely arrested his attention, when, almost
+instantaneously, similar tongues of fire gradually shot up from the
+distant tops of the long chain of the Black Mountains. The fires gained
+in brilliancy and size in the measure that they broke out nearer and
+nearer to the spot where the abbot stood. Suddenly, only twenty paces
+away from him, the startled prelate perceived a bluish gleam through a
+dense smoke. The gleam speedily changed into a brilliant flame, that,
+shooting upwards toward the starry sky, spread a light so bright that
+the abbot, his monks, his guide, the rocks round about and a good
+portion of the crag of the mountain stood illumined as if at noon. A few
+minutes later similar bonfires continued to<a name="page_111" id="page_111"></a> be kindled from hill to
+hill, tracing back, as it seemed, the route that the travelers had left
+behind, and losing themselves in the distance in the evening haze. The
+abbot remained mute with stupefaction. Karouer emitted three times a
+gutteral and loud cry resembling that of a night bird. A similar cry,
+proceeding from behind the plateau of rocks where the nearest bonfire
+was burning, responded to the signal from Karouer.</p>
+
+<p>"What fires are these that are springing up from hill-top to hill-top?"
+the abbot inquired with intense curiosity the moment he recovered from
+his astonishment. "It must be some signal."</p>
+
+<p>"At this moment," answered Karouer, "similar fires are burning from all
+the hill-tops of Armorica, from the mountains of Arres to the Black
+Mountains and the ocean."</p>
+
+<p>"But to what purpose?"</p>
+
+<p>As was his wont, Karouer made no answer to such pointed interrogatories,
+but striking up some Breton song, quickened his steps, while he whirled
+his <i>pen-bas</i> in the air.<a name="page_112" id="page_112"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IIa" id="CHAPTER_IIa"></a>CHAPTER II.</h3>
+
+<h4>THE BRETON CHIEF.</h4>
+
+<p>The home of Morvan, the husbandman, who was chosen Chief of the Chiefs
+of Brittany, was located about the middle of the valley of Lokfern, and
+nestled among the last spurs of the Black Mountains. A strong system of
+palisades, constructed of tough trunks of oak fastened together by means
+of stout cross-beams, and raised on the near side of deep ditches,
+defended the approaches of the farm-house. Outside of the fortified
+enclosure, a forest of centenarian oaks extended to the north and east;
+to the south, green meadows sloped gently towards the windings of a
+swift running river that was bordered with beeches and alders.</p>
+
+<p>The house of Morvan, its contiguous barns, kennels and stables, had the
+rough exterior of the Gallic structures of olden days. A sort of rustic
+porch shaded the main entrance to the house. Under this porch, and
+enjoying the close of the delightful summer day, were Noblede, the
+spouse of Morvan, and Josseline, the young wife of Vortigern. The
+latter, a radiant woman of smiling beauty, was suckling her latest born,
+with her other two children, Ewrag and Rosneven, respectively four and
+five years of age, at her side. Caswallan, a Christian druid, an aged
+man of venerable appearance, whose beard vied in whiteness with his long
+robe, smiled tenderly upon little Ewrag, whom he held on his knees.
+Noblede,<a name="page_113" id="page_113"></a> Morvan's wife and sister of Vortigern, now about thirty years
+of age, was a woman of rare comeliness, although her features bore the
+stamp of a rooted sadness. Ten years a wife, Noblede had not yet tasted
+the sweets of motherhood. Her grave aspect and her high stature recalled
+those matrons, who, in the days of Gaul's independence, sat loyally by
+the side of their husbands at the supreme councils of the nation.<a name="FNanchor_C_3" id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a>
+Noblede and Josseline were spinning, while the other women and daughters
+of Morvan's household busied themselves with the preparations for the
+evening meal, or in the other domestic occupations, such as replenishing
+with forage the stalls that the cattle were to find ready upon their
+return from the fields. The Christian druid Caswallan, with Ewrag, the
+second child of the blonde Josseline, on his knees, had just finished
+making the boy recite his lesson in religion under the following
+symbolic forms:</p>
+
+<p>"White child of the druid, answer me, what shall I tell you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me the parts of the number three," the child would answer, "make
+them known to me, that I may learn them to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"There are three parts of the world&mdash;three beginnings and three ends to
+man as to the oak&mdash;three celestial kingdoms, fruits of gold, brilliant
+flowers and little children who laugh. These three kingdoms, where the
+fruits of gold, the brilliant flowers and the children who laugh are
+found, my little Ewrag, are the worlds in which those, who in this world
+have<a name="page_114" id="page_114"></a> performed pure and celestial acts, will be successively born again
+and will continue to live with ever increasing happiness. Now, what must
+we be in order to perform such acts?"</p>
+
+<p>"We must be wise, good and just," the child would reply. "Furthermore
+death must not be feared, because we are born again and again, from
+world to world with an ever renewed body. We must love Brittany like a
+tender mother&mdash;and bravely defend her against her enemies."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my child," broke in Noblede, drawing her brother's child to
+herself. "Always remember those sacred words: 'To love and defend
+Brittany';" and Morvan's wife tenderly embraced Ewrag.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother! mother!" cried up little Rosneven, joyfully clapping his hands
+and rushing out of the porch followed by his brother Ewrag: "Here is
+father!"</p>
+
+<p>Caswallan, Noblede and Josseline rose at the gladsome cries of the child
+and walked out towards two large wagons heavily laden with golden
+sheaves, and drawn by a yoke of oxen.</p>
+
+<p>Morvan and Vortigern were seated in front of one of the wagons
+surrounded by a considerable number of men and lads belonging to the
+household, or to the tribe of the Chief of the Chiefs, carrying in their
+hands the sickles, the forks and the rakes used by the harvesters. At a
+little distance behind them came the shepherds with their flocks whose
+bells were heard clinking from the distance. Morvan, in the vigor of
+life, robust and thick-set, like most of the inhabitants of the Black
+Mountains, wore their rustic garb&mdash;wide breeches of coarse white
+material, and a linen shirt that exposed his sunburnt chest and neck.
+His long hair, auburn like his thick beard, framed his manly face. His
+forehead was<a name="page_115" id="page_115"></a> high; his eyes intrepid and piercing. As to Vortigern, the
+maturer gravity of manhood, of husband and father, had succeeded the
+flower of youth. His looks were expressive of sweet delight at the sight
+of the two boys who had ran out to meet him. He jumped down from the
+wagon and embraced them affectionately while he looked for his wife and
+sister, who, accompanied by Caswallan, were not long in joining him.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear wife, the harvest will be plentiful," said Morvan to Noblede, and
+pointing to the overloaded wagons, he added: "Have you ever seen more
+beautiful wheat, or more golden sheaves? Look at them and wonder!"</p>
+
+<p>"Morvan," put in Josseline, "you are this year harvesting earlier than
+customary. We, of the region of Karnak would leave our wheat to ripen on
+the stalk fully two weeks longer. Not so, Vortigern?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, my sweet Josseline," answered her husband, "I shall follow Morvan's
+example. We shall return home to-morrow, so as to start taking in the
+harvest as soon as possible."</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to furnish you with still more matter for astonishment,"
+Morvan proceeded. "Instead of leaving the sheaves in the barn that the
+grain may ripen, this wheat that you see there, and that was cropped
+only to-day, will be threshed this very night. Vortigern and myself will
+not be the only ones to ply the flails on the threshing-floor of the
+barn. So, then, Noblede, let us have supper early, and then to work!"</p>
+
+<p>"What, Morvan!" exclaimed Josseline, "after this tiring day's work,
+spent in gathering in the crop, do you and Vortigern mean to spend the
+night at work, and threshing, at that?"</p>
+
+<p>"It will be a cheerful night, my Josseline," put in Vortigern.<a name="page_116" id="page_116"></a> "While
+we shall be threshing the wheat, you will sing us some songs, Caswallan
+will recite to us some old legend, and we shall stave in a barrel of
+hydromel to cheer the laborers who have come to join us. Work goes hand
+in hand with pleasure."</p>
+
+<p>"Vortigern," the Christian druid said, smiling, "do you, perchance,
+think that my arms are so much enfeebled by old age that I could no
+longer wield a flail? I mean to help you at work."</p>
+
+<p>"And we?" put in Josseline, laughing merrily, "we, the daughters and
+wives of the field-laborers, did we, perchance, lose the skill of
+carrying the wheat to the threshing-floor, or of bagging the grain?"</p>
+
+<p>"And we?" Ewrag and his brother Rosneven cried in turn, "could not we
+also carry a stalk, six stalks, twenty stalks?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! you are brave boys, my little ones," exclaimed Vortigern, embracing
+his children, while Morvan said to his wife:</p>
+
+<p>"Noblede, do not forget to have the guest's chamber in order and
+supplied with food."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you expect any guests, Morvan?" inquired Josseline, with great
+curiosity. "They will be welcome; they will assist us at the threshing
+to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"My beloved Josseline," answered the Chief of the Chiefs, smiling, "the
+guests whom I expect eat the choicest of wheat, but never take the
+trouble of either sowing or harvesting. They belong to a class of people
+who live on the fat of the land."</p>
+
+<p>"The guest's chamber is always ready," replied Noblede; "the floor is
+strewn with fresh leaves. Alack! No one occupied it since it was last
+occupied by Amael."</p>
+
+<p>"Worthy grandfather!" exclaimed Vortigern with a sigh.<a name="page_117" id="page_117"></a></p>
+
+<p>"He came to us only to languish a few weeks and pass away."</p>
+
+<p>"May his memory be blessed, as was his life," said Josseline. "I knew
+him only a very short while, but I loved and venerated him like my
+father."</p>
+
+<p>The family of Morvan, together with the rest of his tribe who cultivated
+his lands in common with himself, men, women and children, about thirty
+in all, presently sat down to a long table, placed in a large hall that
+served at once for kitchen, refectory and a place of assembly during the
+long nights of the winter. From the walls hung weapons of war and of the
+hunt, fishing nets, bridles and horse saddles. Although it was
+midsummer, such was the coolness of that region of woods and mountains,
+that the heat of the hearth, before which the meats for the supper were
+broiled, felt decidedly comfortable to the harvesters. Its flamboyant
+light mingled with that cast by the torches of resinous wood, that were
+fastened in iron clamps along the four walls. After the industrious
+group had finished their repast, Morvan was the first to rise.</p>
+
+<p>"And now, my boys, to work! The night is clear, we shall thresh the
+wheat on the outside floor. Two or three torches planted between the
+stones on the edge of the well will give us light until the moon rises.
+We shall be through with our task by one o'clock in the morning, we
+shall sleep until daybreak, and we shall then return to the fields and
+finish taking in the crop."</p>
+
+<p>The torches, placed at Morvan's orders around the edge of the well, cast
+their bright light upon a portion of the yard and buildings that were
+within the fortified enclosure. Several men, the women and the children,
+took a hand in unloading the wagons, while those who were to do the
+threshing,<a name="page_118" id="page_118"></a> Morvan, Vortigern and the old Caswallan among them, stood
+waiting for the grain to be brought to them, their flails in their
+hands, having for the sake of comfort, stripped themselves of all their
+superfluous clothing and keeping only their breeches and shirts on. The
+first bundles of grain were placed in the center of the floor, whereupon
+the rapid rhythm of the flails, vigorously wielded by robust and
+experienced arms, resounded through the air. Apprehending a speedy war,
+the Bretons were hastening to take in their crops and place them under
+cover in order to save them from the ravages of the enemy, as well as to
+deprive these of food. The grains were to be concealed in underground
+caves covered with earth. Morvan, whose forehead began to be moistened
+with perspiration, said, while rapidly handling the flail:</p>
+
+<p>"Caswallan, you promised us a song. Take a little rest and sing. It will
+inspire us in our work."</p>
+
+<p>The Christian druid sang "Lez-Breiz," an old national song that ever
+sounded sweet on the ears of the Bretons. It began thus:</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry">
+<tr><td align="left">"Between a Frankish warrior and Lez-Breiz</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">A combat was arranged;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">It was arranged with due formalities.&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">May God give the victory to the Breton,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">And gladsome tidings to his county.&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">That day Lez-Breiz said to his young attendant:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">Rise, furbish up my handsome casque; my lance and my sword;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">I mean to redden them in the blood of the Franks.&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">I shall make them jump this day!"</span></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>"Old Caswallan," said one of the laborers when the druid had finished
+the long and inspiring strain that warmed the blood of his hearers with
+martial ardor, "let the accursed<a name="page_119" id="page_119"></a> Franks come again, and we shall say,
+like Lez-Breiz: 'With the aid of our two arms, let us make them jump
+again to-day'&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>A furious barking of the shepherd dogs, that for some little time had
+been emitting low and intermittent growls, interrupted at this moment
+the remarks of the laborers, and all turned their eyes towards the gate
+of the enclosure, whither the dogs had precipitated themselves
+furiously.<a name="page_120" id="page_120"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IIIa" id="CHAPTER_IIIa"></a>CHAPTER III.</h3>
+
+<h4>ABBOT AND BRETON.</h4>
+
+<p>The strangers whose approach the dogs announced were Abbot Witchaire,
+his two monks and his guide Karouer. Preceded by the guide, who pacified
+the alarm of the watchful animals, the clerical cavalcade rode into the
+enclosure, while Karouer informed the abbot:</p>
+
+<p>"This is the house of Morvan. We have arrived at our destination. You
+may now dismount."</p>
+
+<p>"What are those torches yonder for?" asked the prelate descending from
+his horse, the reins of which he threw over to one of his monks. "What
+is that muffled sound I hear?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is the sound of the flails. Doubtlessly Morvan is threshing the
+grain that he has harvested. Come, I shall lead you to him."</p>
+
+<p>Abbot Witchaire and his guide approached the group of laborers, upon
+whom the torches cast a clear light. Morvan, intently at work, and the
+noise of the flails deafening the sound of the steps and voices of the
+new arrivals, failed to hear them. Not until Karouer had tapped the
+Chief of the Chiefs upon the shoulder in order to draw the latter's
+attention to him, did Morvan turn to look. Recognizing Karouer, the
+Chief of the Chiefs stopped a moment and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! Is that you, Karouer? What tidings do you bring from our man?"<a name="page_121" id="page_121"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I bring him to you in person," answered Karouer, pointing to his
+traveling companion. "He stands before you in flesh and bone."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you the Abbot Witchaire?" asked Morvan, slightly out of breath with
+the heavy work that he had been performing; and crossing his robust arms
+over the handle of his flail, he added: "As I expected your visit, I
+have had supper prepared for you. Come to table."</p>
+
+<p>"I prefer first to speak to you."</p>
+
+<p>"Noblede," said Morvan, wiping the perspiration that inundated his
+forehead with the back of his hand, "a torch, my dear wife!" And turning
+to the abbot: "Follow me."</p>
+
+<p>Taking up one of the torches that were stuck at the edge of the well,
+Noblede preceded her husband and Abbot Witchaire to the chamber that was
+reserved for guests. Two large beds stood ready, as also a big table
+furnished with cold meats, milk, bread and fruit. After placing the
+torch into one of the iron clamps fastened in the wall, Noblede was
+about to withdraw when Morvan said to her in a significant tone:</p>
+
+<p>"Dear wife, come and kiss me good night when the threshing is done."</p>
+
+<p>A look from Noblede informed her husband that he was understood, and she
+stepped out of the guest's chamber where Morvan remained alone with
+Abbot Witchaire. The abbot immediately addressed the Chief of the
+Chiefs:</p>
+
+<p>"Morvan, I greet you. I am the bearer to you of a message from the King
+of the Franks, Louis the Pious, son of Charles the Great."</p>
+
+<p>"And what is that message?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is couched in but few words:&mdash;The Bretons occupy a<a name="page_122" id="page_122"></a> province of the
+Empire of the King of the Franks, and refuse to pay him tribute in
+homage to his sovereignty. Besides, the Breton clergy, generally
+infected with a leaven of old druidic idolatry, denies the supremacy of
+the Archbishop of Tours. Such are the consequences of that regrettable
+heresy, of which Lambert, Count of Nantes, wrote to King Louis the Pious
+as follows: 'The Breton nation is proud and indomitable; all that there
+is Christian about them is the name; as to the Christian faith, its cult
+and works, they would be searched for in vain in Brittany.' Wishing to
+put an end to a rebellion so outrageous both to the Catholic Church and
+the royal authority, King Louis the Pious orders the Breton people to
+pay the tribute that they owe to the sovereignty of the Frankish Empire,
+and to submit themselves to the apostolic decisions of the Archbishop of
+Tours. In case of failure to comply, King Louis the Pious will, by means
+of his invincible arms, ruin the country and compel the obedience of the
+Breton people."</p>
+
+<p>"Abbot Witchaire," Morvan answered after a few moments' reflection,
+"Amael, the grandfather of Vortigern, my wife's brother, entered into an
+agreement with the Emperor Charles to the effect that, provided we held
+ourselves within our own borders, there never would be any war between
+us and the Franks. We kept our promise, so did Charles. His son, whom
+you call 'The Pious,' has not troubled us until now. If to-day he
+demands tribute from us, he violates the provisions of the compact."</p>
+
+<p>"Louis the Pious is King by divine right, sovereign master of Gaul.
+Brittany is part of Gaul, consequently Brittany belongs to him and must
+pay him tribute."</p>
+
+<p>"We will pay tribute to no king. As to what regards the<a name="page_123" id="page_123"></a> clergy, I have
+this to say to you: Before their arrival in Brittany the country never
+was invaded. Since a century ago, all that has changed. It was to be
+expected. Whoever sees the black robe of a priest, soon sees the glint
+of a Frank's sword."</p>
+
+<p>"You speak truly. The Catholic priest is everywhere the precursor of
+royalty."</p>
+
+<p>"We now have but too many of these precursors. Despite their continuous
+quarrels with the Archbishop of Tours, the good priests are rare, the
+bad ones numerous. At the time of the last war, several of your
+churchmen acted as guides to the Franks, while others seduced some of
+our tribes into treason by making them believe that to resist your kings
+was to incur the anger of heaven. Despite such acts of treason, we
+defended our liberty then; we will defend it again both against the
+machinations of the clergy and the swords of the Franks."</p>
+
+<p>"Morvan, you look like a sensible man. Is it proposed to enslave you?
+No! To dispossess you of your lands? No! What is it that Louis the Pious
+demands? Merely that you pay him tribute in homage to his sovereignty.
+Nothing more!"</p>
+
+<p>"That is too much&mdash;and it is iniquitous!"</p>
+
+<p>"Consider the frightful misfortunes to which Brittany will expose
+herself if she refuses to acknowledge the sovereignty of Louis the
+Pious. Can you prefer to see your fields laid waste, your crops
+destroyed, your cattle led away, your own house torn down, your fellows
+reduced to slavery&mdash;can you prefer that to the voluntary payment of a
+few gold sous contributed by you into the treasury of the King of the
+Franks?"</p>
+
+<p>"I certainly would prefer to pay even twenty gold sous, rather than be
+ruined."<a name="page_124" id="page_124"></a></p>
+
+<p>"It is not merely your own earthly possessions that are at stake. You
+have a wife, a family, friends. Would you, out of vain pride, expose so
+many beings, dear to your heart, to the horrible dangers of war, of a
+war of extermination, of a war without mercy, all the more when, as you
+must admit, you can no longer find in the Breton people the indomitable
+spirit that once was its distinctive feature?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," answered Morvan with a somber and pensive mien, his elbows resting
+on his knees and his forehead hidden in his hands; "no, the Breton
+people are no longer what they once were."</p>
+
+<p>"To my mind, the change is one of the triumphs of the Catholic Church.
+In your eyes it is an evil. But, if evil it be, it is a fact, and you
+are bound to recognize it. Brittany, once invincible, has been several
+times invaded by the Franks during the last century. What has happened
+before will happen again. And yet, notwithstanding the mistrust that you
+entertain of your own powers of resistance, notwithstanding the
+certainty of succumbing, could you still wish to engage in the struggle
+in lieu of paying a tribute that curtails in nothing, either your own
+liberty or that of your people?"</p>
+
+<p>Shaken by the insidious arguments of the priest, Morvan remained silent
+for a moment; after a short struggle with himself, he asked: "How high
+will be the tribute that your King demands?"</p>
+
+<p>Witchaire thrilled with joy at Morvan's question. He concluded the
+Breton had decided in favor of base submission. At that juncture Noblede
+entered the apartment to give her husband the good-night kiss. At sight
+of her the Breton blushed. He allowed his wife to approach him without
+affectionately advancing to meet her, as was his wont. The<a name="page_125" id="page_125"></a> Breton woman
+almost guessed the cause of the embarrassed manner of Morvan, and of the
+triumphant looks of the Frankish abbot. Concealing her grief, the woman
+walked to her husband, who remained seated, and kissed his hand. A
+tremor shook the Breton chief's frame; his will, shaken for a moment,
+regained its own command; he leaped up and passionately clasped his wife
+to his breast. Happy and proud at feeling the throbbing of her own heart
+answered by her husband's, the Gallic woman cried, casting a look of
+contempt at the priest:</p>
+
+<p>"Whence comes this stranger? What does he want? Is he a messenger of
+peace or of war? Race of priests, race of vipers."</p>
+
+<p>"This monk is sent by the King of the Franks," answered the Breton
+chief; "I do not yet know whether he brings peace or war."</p>
+
+<p>Noblede looked at her husband with increasing astonishment, when the
+abbot, considering the moment favorable to obtain the desired answer
+from Morvan, said:</p>
+
+<p>"I am to return immediately. What answer shall I carry to Louis the
+Pious?"</p>
+
+<p>"You cannot resume your journey without taking some rest," Noblede
+hastened to observe, while, with her eyes, she interrogated her husband,
+who seemed to have relapsed into incertitude. "It will be time enough to
+depart early in the morning. Remain here over night to recover your
+strength."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no!" exclaimed the abbot with impatience, fearing the influence of
+the Gallic woman upon her husband. "I return immediately. Shall I take
+to Louis the Pious words of peace or of war? I must have a categoric
+answer."<a name="page_126" id="page_126"></a></p>
+
+<p>The Breton chief, however, rose from his seat, and walking towards the
+door of the apartment answered Witchaire:</p>
+
+<p>"I shall use the few remaining hours of the night to think the matter
+over; to-morrow you will have my answer." Saying this, and despite the
+insistence of the abbot upon an immediate answer, Morvan left the
+guest's room, accompanied by Noblede.</p>
+
+<p>A few minutes later, Morvan, his wife, Vortigern and Caswallan,
+assembled at a secluded spot, under the spreading branches of a tall oak
+tree not far from the house, to consider the subject of Abbot
+Witchaire's errand to Brittany.</p>
+
+<p>"What does this messenger of the King of the Franks want?" asked
+Vortigern of Morvan.</p>
+
+<p>"If we consent to pay tribute to Louis the Pious and to recognize him as
+our sovereign, we shall escape an implacable war. I know not what answer
+to make. I hesitate before the prospect of the disasters that will
+attend a new struggle&mdash;the massacres, the fires."</p>
+
+<p>"Hesitate! Yield to threats!"</p>
+
+<p>"Brother," answered Morvan with deep sadness, "the Breton people are no
+longer what they once were."</p>
+
+<p>"You are right!" put in Caswallan. "The breath of the Catholic Church,
+so deadly to the freedom of the people, has passed over this unhappy
+country also. The patriotism of a large number of our tribes has cooled.
+But, on the other hand, should you consent to submit to a shameful
+peace, then Brittany will be peopled with slaves before a century shall
+have rolled away."</p>
+
+<p>"Brother," added Vortigern, "would you yield to threats, instead of
+reviving the spirit of Brittany in a sacred war against the foreigner?
+That would be to debase ourselves<a name="page_127" id="page_127"></a> forever! To-day we would pay tribute
+to the king of the Franks, in order to avoid a war; to-morrow we would
+have to yield to him one-half of our patrimony, in order that he may
+allow us to retain the rest; after that we would have to submit to
+slavery with all its degradation and wretchedness, in order to be
+allowed to preserve our lives. The chain will have been riveted to our
+limbs, and our children will have to drag it during all the centuries to
+come!"</p>
+
+<p>"Unhappy Brittany!" exclaimed Noblede. "Have we fallen so low as to
+begin to measure the length of our chains? Look at these three brave,
+wise and tried men, wasting their time in discussing the insolence of a
+Frankish king! There is but one word you can answer with&mdash;WAR! Oh,
+degenerate Gauls! Eight centuries ago, Caesar, the greatest captain of
+the world, and at the head of a formidable army, also sent messengers to
+summon Brittany to pay him tribute. The Roman messengers were answered
+with a beating, and chased with contempt out of the city of Vannes. That
+same evening, Hena, our ancestress, offered her blood to Hesus for the
+deliverance of Gaul, and the cry of war resounded from one end of the
+country to the other! Albinik the sailor, together with his wife Meroë,
+performed a journey of more than twenty leagues across the most fertile
+regions of Gaul, but then burnt down by a conflagration that the people
+themselves had kindled. Caesar saw before him only a waste of
+smouldering ruins, and on the day of the battle of Vannes our whole
+family&mdash;women and young girls, children and old men&mdash;fought or died like
+heroes! Oh! These ancestors of ours worried their heads little about the
+'dangers of battle'! To live free or die&mdash;such was their simple faith,
+and they<a name="page_128" id="page_128"></a> sealed it with their blood, and winged their flight to those
+unknown worlds where they continue to live!"</p>
+
+<p>Noblede was addressing Morvan, Vortigern and Caswallan in these terms,
+when the abbot, who had left his apartment and inquired after Morvan
+from the people about the house, approached the oak under which the
+Breton family was in council. Although the moon was shining in all her
+splendor, the first glimmerings of the dawn, always early in the end of
+August, already began to crimson the horizon.</p>
+
+<p>"Morvan," said Abbot Witchaire, "day is about to dawn. I can wait no
+longer. What is your answer to the messenger of Louis the Pious?"</p>
+
+<p>"Priest, my answer will not burden your memory: <span class="smcap">Return and tell the king
+that we will pay him tribute&mdash;in iron</span>."</p>
+
+<p>"You want war! Very well, you shall have it without mercy or pity!"
+cried the abbot furiously, and leaping on his horse which the monks held
+ready for him he added, turning again to the Chief of the Chiefs:
+"Brittany will be laid waste with fire and sword! Not a house will be
+left standing! The last day of this people has arrived!"</p>
+
+<p>As the priest uttered these words, his gestures seemed to call down
+curses and anathemas upon the Breton chief. Angrily putting the spurs to
+his horse and followed by the two monks, the prelate rode rapidly away.</p>
+
+<p>The abbot had hardly been a quarter of an hour on the road, when he
+heard the gallop of an approaching horse behind him. Turning, he saw a
+rider coming towards him at full speed. It was Vortigern. The abbot drew
+in his reins, yielding to a last ray of hope. "May your coming be
+propitious.<a name="page_129" id="page_129"></a> Morvan regrets, I hope, the insensate resolution that he
+took?"</p>
+
+<p>"Morvan regrets that in your hurry you and your two monks should have
+departed without a guide. You might easily lose your way in our
+mountains. I am to accompany you as far as the city of Guenhek. There I
+shall furnish you with a safe guide for the rest of the journey; he will
+take you to our frontiers."</p>
+
+<p>"Young man, you are, I am told, the brother of Morvan's wife. I conjure
+you, in the name of the safety of Brittany, to endeavor to change the
+insensate and fatal resolution of this man who happens to be the chief
+of your nation."</p>
+
+<p>"Monk, the fires lighted last night on our mountains, and which, no
+doubt, you must have seen, were the signals of alarm, given to our
+tribes to prepare for war. Your King wants war&mdash;let his will be done.
+But, now, answer me a question. You come from the court at
+Aix-la-Chapelle. Could you tell me what has become of the daughters of
+the Emperor Charles?"</p>
+
+<p>The abbot cast a look of surprise at Vortigern: "What is it to you what
+may have become of the Emperor's daughters?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is now about eight years ago that I accompanied my grandfather to
+Aix-la-Chapelle. I there saw the daughters of Charles. That is the
+reason for my curiosity concerning them."</p>
+
+<p>"The daughters of Charles have been consigned to nunneries by order of
+their brother, Louis the Pious,"<a name="FNanchor_D_4" id="FNanchor_D_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a> was the<a name="page_130" id="page_130"></a> sententious answer of
+Witchaire. "May they, by dint of repentance, merit the pardon of heaven
+for their past and abominable libertinage."</p>
+
+<p>"And Thetralde, the youngest of Charles' daughters, did she share the
+fate of her sisters?"</p>
+
+<p>"Thetralde died long ago."</p>
+
+<p>"She died!" exclaimed Vortigern, unable to conceal his emotion. "Poor
+child! So beautiful&mdash;and to die so young!"</p>
+
+<p>"She, at least, never gave Charles cause to blush."</p>
+
+<p>"And what was the cause of the death of that child? Could you tell me?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is not known. Up to her fifteenth year she enjoyed a nourishing
+health. Suddenly she began to languish, grew ill, and barely in her
+sixteenth year, her light went out, in the arms of her father, who never
+ceased weeping for her. But this is quite enough about the daughters of
+Charles the Great. Once more, will you or will you not, endeavor to
+cause Morvan to abandon a resolution that can have for its only effect
+the ruin of this country? You are silent&mdash;do you refuse?"</p>
+
+<p>Absorbed in the thoughts that the fate of the ill-starred Thetralde had
+started in his mind, Vortigern remained mute and melancholy. His
+thoughts flew to the young girl who died so young, and the touching
+remembrance of whom had long remained alive with him. Impatient at the
+prolonged silence of the Breton, the abbot put his hand on Vortigern's
+shoulder, and repeated his question:<a name="page_131" id="page_131"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I ask you, yes or no, will you endeavor to cause Morvan to renounce his
+insensate resolution?"</p>
+
+<p>"Your King wants war; he shall have war."</p>
+
+<p>And Vortigern, relapsing into his own meditations, rode silently beside
+Witchaire until the two reached the city of Guenhek. There Vortigern
+entrusted the guidance of the abbot to an experienced guide, and while
+the messenger of Louis the Pious proceeded towards the frontier of
+Brittany, the brother of Noblede hastened back and rejoined his wife
+Josseline at the house of Morvan.<a name="page_132" id="page_132"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IVa" id="CHAPTER_IVa"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h3>
+
+<h4>THE DEFILE OF GLEN-CLAN.</h4>
+
+<p>The defile of Glen-Clan is the only practicable passage across the last
+links of the Black Mountains&mdash;a mountain chain that constitutes a
+veritable girdle of granite as a natural protection to the heart of
+Brittany. The defile of Glen-Clan is so narrow that a wagon can barely
+thread it; it is so steep that six yoke of oxen are barely able to drag
+a wagon up its craggy incline, from the top of which a stone of
+considerable size would roll rapidly down to the bottom of the pass&mdash;a
+pass cut, like the bed of a mountain torrent, at the feet of immense
+rocks that rise on either side perpendicular over a hundred feet in the
+air.</p>
+
+<p>A distant rumbling noise, confused at first, and becoming more and more
+distinct as it draws nearer and nearer, disturbs one day, shortly after
+the angry departure of Abbot Witchaire from Brittany, the otherwise
+profound silence of the solitude. By little and little the dull tramp of
+cavalry is distinguished; presently also the clanking of iron arms upon
+iron armor, and finally the rythmic tread of large troops of foot
+soldiers, the lumbering of wagon wheels jolting upon the stony ground,
+the neighing of horses and the bellowing of yoke-oxen. All these various
+sounds draw nearer, grow louder, and are finally blended into one steady
+roar. They announce the approach of an army corps of considerable
+proportions.<a name="page_133" id="page_133"></a> Suddenly the mournful and prolonged cry of a night bird is
+heard from the crest of the rocks that overhang the defile. Other
+similar, but more distant cries answer the first signal, like an echo
+that loses itself in the distance. Silence ensues thereupon&mdash;except for
+the tumultuous din of the advancing army corps. A small troop appears at
+the entrance of the tortuous passage; a monk on horseback guides the
+scouting party. At the monk's side rides a warrior of tall stature, clad
+in rich armor. His white buckler, on which three eagle's talons are
+designed, hangs to one side from the pommel of his saddle, while an iron
+mace dangles from the other. Behind the Frankish chief ride several
+cavalrymen accompanied by about a score of Saxon archers,
+distinguishable by their long quivers.</p>
+
+<p>"Hugh," says the chief of the warriors to one of his men, "take with you
+two horsemen, and let five or six archers precede you to make certain
+that there is no ambush to fear. At the slightest sign of an attack fall
+back upon us and give the alarm. I do not wish to entangle the gross of
+my troop in this defile without the necessary precautions."</p>
+
+<p>Hugh obeys his chief. The little vanguard quickens its step and soon
+disappears beyond one of the windings of the pass.</p>
+
+<p>"Neroweg, the measure is wise," observes the monk. "One could not
+advance with too much precaution into this accursed country of Brittany,
+where I have lived long enough to know that it is extremely dangerous."</p>
+
+<p>"At the end of this defile, I am told, we enter upon even ground."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but before that we shall have to cross the marsh of Peulven and
+the forest of Cardik; we then arrive at the vast<a name="page_134" id="page_134"></a> moor of Kennor, the
+rendezvous of the two other armed bodies of Louis the Pious, who are
+marching to that point across the river Vilaine and over the defile of
+Mount Orock, as we are to penetrate through this one. Morvan will be
+attacked from three sides, and will not be able to resist our forces."</p>
+
+<p>"I marvel that so important a pass as this is not defended."</p>
+
+<p>"I furnished you the reason when I delivered to you Morvan's plan of
+campaign, that was forwarded to me by Kervor, a pious Catholic who came
+over to the Frankish side and submitted to the authority of our King. He
+is the chief of the southern tribes whose territory we have just
+crossed."</p>
+
+<p>"I loved to see those people so docile to the priests; they furnished us
+with supplies, and at your voice knelt down as we passed."</p>
+
+<p>"At the time of the other wars you would have dropped fully one-half of
+your troops in this region so cut up with bogs, hedges and woods. The
+change between now and then is great. The Catholic faith penetrates
+little by little these people, formerly so intractable. We have preached
+to them submission to Louis the Pious, and menaced them with the fires
+of hell if they attempted to resist your arms."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, more than one of the troopers of the old bands who fought here
+at the time of Charles the Great, have told me they could no longer
+recognize the Bretons, who, in their days, were almost invincible. But
+for all your explanations, monk, I cannot understand how this pass comes
+to be abandoned."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet nothing is simpler. According to his plan of campaign, Morvan
+counted with the resistance of the tribes that we have just crossed. In
+one day, without drawing your sword, you have cleared a track that would
+otherwise have<a name="page_135" id="page_135"></a> cost you three days' hard fighting, and a fourth of your
+troops. Morvan, never apprehending your early arrival at the defile of
+Glen-Clan, will not think of having it occupied until this evening, or
+to-morrow. He has not enough forces at his disposal to place them where
+they would lie idle while he himself is being attacked from two other
+sides by as many army corps."</p>
+
+<p>"To that argument I have nothing to say, my father in Christ, you know
+the country better than I. If this war succeeds, I shall have my share
+of the conquered territory; and, according to the promise of Louis the
+Pious, I shall become a powerful seigneur in Brittany, as my elder
+brother, Gonthran, is in Auvergne."</p>
+
+<p>"And you will not forget to endow the Church."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not be ungrateful to the priests, good father. I shall employ a
+part of the booty in building a chapel to St. Martin, for whom our
+family has ever entertained a particular devotion. Could you, who are
+well acquainted with the customs of the Bretons, tell me what corners
+they hide their money in? It is claimed that they remove all their
+treasures when they are forced to flee from their houses, and that they
+bury them in inaccessible hiding places. Is that so?"</p>
+
+<p>"When we shall have arrived in the heart of the country, I shall
+acquaint you with the means to discover those treasures, which are,
+almost always, concealed at the foot of certain druid stones, for which
+these pagans preserve an idolatrous reverence."</p>
+
+<p>"But where shall we find those stones? By what signs are they to be
+recognized?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is my secret, Neroweg. It will become <i>ours</i> after we shall have
+reached the heart of the country."<a name="page_136" id="page_136"></a></p>
+
+<p>Thus conversing, the monk and the Frankish chief slowly ascend the
+craggy slope of the defile. From time to time, some of the horsemen, or
+foot soldiers, detached as scouts, ride back to acquaint Neroweg with
+their observations. Finally, Hugh himself returns and informs his master
+that there is nothing to cause any apprehension on the score of an
+ambuscade. Completely reassured by these reports, and by the
+explanations of the monk, Neroweg gives the order for the advance of his
+troops, the footmen first, the horsemen next, then the baggage, and last
+of all a rear corps of foot soldiers.</p>
+
+<p>The army corps breaks up and enters the pass that is so narrow as to
+allow a passage to only four men abreast. The long and winding column of
+men covered with iron, crowded together, and moving slowly, presents a
+strange spectacle from the top of the rocks that dominate the narrow
+route. It might be taken for some gigantic serpent with iron scales,
+deploying its sinuous folds in a ravine cut between two walls of
+granite. The misgivings of the Franks, somewhat alarmed when they first
+began threading their way through a passage so propitious to an ambush,
+are presently removed and make place for unquestioning confidence.
+Already the vanguard that precedes Neroweg and the monk is drawing near
+the issue of the defile, while at the other end the baggage wagons,
+drawn by oxen, begin to set themselves in motion followed by the rear
+guard that consists of Thuringian horsemen and Saxon archers. The last
+wagons and the rear guard have barely entered the defile, when suddenly
+the lugubrious cry of the night bird, resembling that which had greeted
+the first arrival of the Frankish army, resounds again, and is echoed
+from peak to peak, along the whole length<a name="page_137" id="page_137"></a> of the overtopping rocks.
+Immediately thereupon, pushed by invisible arms, several enormous
+boulders detach themselves from the surrounding rocks that an instant
+before seemed a solid part of themselves, roll and bound with the rattle
+of thunder from the top of the crest down to the foot of the mountain,
+and fall crashing upon the wagons, crushing a large number of soldiers
+to death, mutilating many more and disabling the train. In their
+paroxysms of death, or rendered furious by their wounds, the oxen crowd
+upon or roll over one another, and throw the rear guard of the Franks
+into such frightful disorder that it is wholly unable to make another
+step in advance; it is cut off from the gross of the troops by the
+lumber in its way; it is reduced to utter impotence. All along the rest
+of the length of the defile of Glen-Clan the Franks are in similar
+plight. All along the line, fragments of rocks roll down from the
+overtopping crests, crushing and decimating the compact mass of soldiers
+below. The gigantic serpent of iron is mutilated, cut into bleeding
+sections; it writhes convulsively at the bottom of the ravine, while
+from the summits on either side, now crowned with a swarm of Bretons,
+who kept themselves until then concealed, a hailstorm of arrows,
+boar-spears and stones rains down upon the bewildered, panic-stricken
+and impotent Frankish cohorts, caught and hemmed in between the two
+granite walls, from whose tops our men deal prompt and unavoidable death
+to their invaders. Vortigern is in command of these resolute and
+watchful Bretons. His bow in one hand, his quiver by his side, not one
+of his bolts misses its mark.</p>
+
+<p>The butchery is frightful! The carnage superb! The Gallic war-songs and
+cries of triumph from above answer the imprecations of the Franks from
+below. A frightful butchery!<a name="page_138" id="page_138"></a></p>
+
+<p>A superb carnage! It lasts as long as our men have a stone to throw, a
+bolt or a spear to hurl at the foe. His own, and the munitions of his
+companions being exhausted, Vortigern cries down from the summit of the
+rocks to the frantic Franks below, accompanying the cry with a gesture
+of defiance:</p>
+
+<p>"We will thus defend our soil, inch by inch; every step you take will be
+marked by your blood or our own; all our tribes are not like those of
+Kervor!"</p>
+
+<p>Saying this, Vortigern struck up the martial song of his ancestor
+Schanvoch:</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry">
+<tr><td align="left">"This morning we asked:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.25em;">'How many are there of these Franks?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">How many are there of these barbarians?'</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .5em;">This evening we say:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.25em;">'How many were there of these Franks?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">How many were there of these barbarians?'"<a name="FNanchor_E_5" id="FNanchor_E_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_5" class="fnanchor">[E]</a></span></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p><a name="page_139" id="page_139"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_Va" id="CHAPTER_Va"></a>CHAPTER V.</h3>
+
+<h4>THE MARSH OF PEULVEN.</h4>
+
+<p>Vast is the marsh of Peulven. To the east and the south its shape is
+like a bay. From that side its edges are bordered by the skirts of the
+dense forest of Cardik. To the north and west, it waters the gentle
+slopes of the hills that succeed upon the last spurs of the Black
+Mountains, whose tops, empurpled by the rays of the westering sun, rise
+in the distant horizon. A jetty, or tongue of land that runs into the
+edge of the forest, traverses the marsh through its whole length.
+Silence is profound in this desert place. The stagnant waters reflect
+the inflamed tints of the ruddy twilight. From time to time flocks of
+curlews, herons and other aquatic birds, rise from amidst the reeds that
+cover the marsh in spots, hover about and fly upward, emitting their
+plaintive cries. Several Frankish horsemen appear from the side of the
+mountain. They climb the hill, reach its top, and rein in their horses.
+They sweep the marsh with their eyes, examine it for a moment, then turn
+their horses' heads and ride back to join Neroweg and the monk, whose
+forces, decimated shortly before in the defile of Glen-Clan, have been
+subsequently harassed without let on their further march by little
+Breton bands, who, placed in ambush behind hedges, or in ditches covered
+with dry wood, unexpectedly fell upon either the vanguard or the rear
+guard of the Franks, and,<a name="page_140" id="page_140"></a> after bloody encounters, again vanished in
+that region so interspersed with obstacles of all sorts, impracticable
+for cavalry, and with which the Frankish foot soldiers are so utterly
+unfamiliar that they ventured not to separate themselves from the main
+column, ever fearing to fall into some fresh ambush. On horseback behind
+the monk, Neroweg stands on the summit of a hill not far behind the one
+that the scouts have just ascended. He awaits their return in order to
+continue his march. The vanguard has halted at a little distance from
+the chief. Further away rest the bulk of his troops. A small detachment
+of the rear guard was ordered to take its stand about a league further
+back in order to guard the baggage, the wagons and the wounded of the
+sorely harassed army.</p>
+
+<p>The lines on the face of the Frankish chief denote deep concern. He says
+to the monk:</p>
+
+<p>"What a war! What a war! I have fought against the Northmans, when they
+attacked our fortified camps at the confluence of the Somme and the
+Seine. Those accursed pirates are terrible foes. They are as dashing in
+attack as they are cautious in retreat, and they ever find a safe
+shelter in the light craft in which they come over the seas of the North
+as far south as Gaul. But by St. Martin! these accursed Bretons are
+fuller of the devil, and harder to get at than even the pirates! They
+were a source of trouble to Charles the great Emperor; they have become
+the desolation of his son!" And Neroweg repeats dejectedly: "What a war!
+What a war!"</p>
+
+<p>The monk turns upon his saddle, and stretching out his hand in the
+direction traversed by the Frankish troop, says to Neroweg:<a name="page_141" id="page_141"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Look toward the west!"</p>
+
+<p>Turning his eyes in the direction indicated by the priest, the Frankish
+chief notices behind him tall columns of ruddy smoke rising at intervals
+from the hills that the army has left behind it. "Look yonder!
+Everywhere a conflagration marks our passage. The burgs and villages,
+abandoned by the fleeing inhabitants, have, at my orders, been delivered
+to the flames. The Bretons have not, like the Northman pirates, the
+resource of vessels on which to flee with their booty back to the ocean.
+We are driving the fleeing population before us. The two other army
+corps of Louis the Pious are, from their side, following similar
+tactics. Accordingly, we and they will meet to-morrow morning at the
+village of Lokfern. There we will find, driven back and heaped together,
+the populations that have been attacked from the south, the east and the
+north during these last days. There, surrounded by a circle of iron,
+they will be either annihilated or reduced to slavery! Ah! This time
+without fail, Brittany, never before overcome, will be subjected to the
+Catholic Church and to the power of the Franks. What if your soldiers
+have been decimated in the struggle for the triumph of the faith and
+royalty! The troops that you still have, will, when joined to the other
+army corps, suffice to exterminate the Bretons!"</p>
+
+<p>"Monk," answers Neroweg impatiently, "your words do not console me for
+the death of so many brave Frankish warriors whose bones have been left
+to bleach in the defile of Glen-Clan and on the hills of this accursed
+country!"</p>
+
+<p>"Rather envy their fate. They have died for religion; they are now in
+paradise, in the midst of a chorus of seraphim."</p>
+
+<p>Neroweg shrugs his shoulders with an air of incredulity, and after a
+moment of silence proceeds: "You promised to<a name="page_142" id="page_142"></a> point out to me where
+these pagans conceal their treasures."</p>
+
+<p>"On the other side of the marsh of Peulven which we are now to traverse,
+lies a vast forest in which a large number of druid stones are found.
+Have the earth removed at their foot, and you will find large sums of
+money in silver and gold, and many precious articles that have been
+hidden there since the beginning of the war."</p>
+
+<p>"When will we arrive at that forest?"</p>
+
+<p>"This evening before nightfall."</p>
+
+<p>"I do not wish to risk my troops in that forest, and fall into another
+ambush like the one of the defile!" cries Neroweg. "The day is drawing
+to its close. We shall encamp to-night in the midst of the bare hills
+where we now are, and where no surprise is to be feared."</p>
+
+<p>"Here are your scouts back," observes the monk to the Frankish chief.
+"Interrogate them before you make up your mind definitely."</p>
+
+<p>"Neroweg," reports one of the riders who had scouted to the edge of the
+marsh, "as far as the eye reaches, nothing is seen on the marsh; there
+is no sign of any men; there is not a boat in sight. On the shores there
+is not a single hut, and there is no evidence of any entrenchment."</p>
+
+<p>Impatient to judge by himself of the nature of the field, the Frankish
+chief, followed by the monk, immediately rides forward and reaches the
+top of the hill shortly before occupied by the scouts. From the eminence
+Neroweg beholds a vast expanse of marshy ground in whose numerous pools
+of stagnant water the last rays of the sinking sun are mirrored. The
+jetty, covered with sward and lined with a thick fringe of reeds,
+reaches clear to the other side, and is lost on the edge of the forest.
+"There is not the slightest fear of an ambush<a name="page_143" id="page_143"></a> in crossing this
+solitude," says Neroweg with visible mental relief. "The march across
+can only take up half an hour, at the most."</p>
+
+<p>"We have about an hour more of daylight left us," observes the monk.
+"The forest you see yonder is called the forest of Cardik. It stretches
+far away to the right and left of the marsh, seeing that, towards the
+west, it reaches the borders of the Armorican Sea. But that portion of
+the forest that faces the jetty is at the utmost a quarter of a league
+long. We could easily put it behind us before night, and we would then
+be on the moor of Kennor, an immense plain where you could encamp in
+absolute security. To-morrow at daybreak if it should please you, we can
+ride back into the forest and rummage at the foot of the druid stones
+for the treasures hidden there by the Bretons. Glory to your arms, and
+may the booty be large!"</p>
+
+<p>After a few minutes of hesitation, Neroweg, tempted by cupidity, sends a
+man of his escort to give to his troops the order to march and traverse
+the jetty, a narrow walk of about three feet wide, perfectly even,
+covered with thin grass, and lying in plain view from one end to the
+other. Neroweg feels easy in mind. Nevertheless, remembering the rocks
+of Glen-Clan, he prudently orders several horsemen to precede the troops
+by about a hundred paces. Marching behind their chief, Neroweg's troops
+begin to defile along the jetty, which soon is covered with soldiers
+from end to end. Massed from the foot to the top of the hill, behind the
+advancing column, are the last detachments of Neroweg's army. They break
+ranks as fast as it is their turn to enter upon the passage.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, from the midst of the clumps of reeds that rise at irregular
+intervals along the length of the tongue of land,<a name="page_144" id="page_144"></a> the cry of
+night-birds goes up&mdash;cries identical with those that had resounded from
+the summits of Glen-Clan. Upon the signal, the muffled sounds of rapid
+hatchet strokes are heard. They teem to be the answer given to the cries
+of the night-birds. Instantly the seemingly solid walk sinks at scores
+of places under the feet of the marching soldiers. Woe is those who
+happen to find themselves over these hidden traps, that are constructed
+of wooden beams and strong chains concealed under a layer of sward! The
+scheme, devised by Vortigern, proves successful. The movable bridges
+can, at will, either support the weight of the troops that march over
+them, or tip over under their tread, by the dexterous knocking from
+under the loose boards the wooden pegs that are their only support.</p>
+
+<p>Plunged in the water up to their necks, Vortigern and a large number of
+stout-hearted men of his tribe have held themselves motionless, mute and
+invisible in the center of the clumps of reeds that border the jetty
+near each of the traps. When the jetty is entirely covered with Frankish
+soldiers, the hatchets are, at a signal, plied with energy; the pegs
+drop out; and the passage is suddenly cut up by scores of gaps twenty
+feet wide. Pell-mell foot soldiers, cavalrymen and their horses tumble
+to the bottom of these suddenly opened ditches, and are received
+thereupon by the sharp points of piles providently sunk at the bottom.</p>
+
+<p>At the sight of these death-dealing traps, suddenly gaping before them
+at their feet, and at the sound of the wild cries and imprecations
+uttered by the wounded and by those who are being pushed forward into
+the abysses by the crowding ranks behind, a tremendous disorder,
+followed by a panic, spreads among the Franks. Fearing the path to be
+everywhere undermined, the soldiers crowd back and forward upon<a name="page_145" id="page_145"></a> one
+another in a frenzy of despair. The frightened horses rear, tumble down,
+or rush furiously into the marsh where they vanish together with their
+riders. The confusion and rout being at its height, the Bretons rise
+from their places of concealment among the reeds, and hurl promiscuously
+a shower of bolts upon the confused heaps of soldiers, now rendered
+insane with fear, and in their panic either trampling upon one another,
+or themselves being trampled upon by their uncontrollable steeds. Other
+war-crys respond from a distance to the war-cries struck up by Vortigern
+and his men. A troop of Bretons issues from the forest and ranks itself
+in battle array at the border of the marsh ready to dispute the passage
+if the Franks dare to attempt it The sight of these fresh foes carries
+the panic of Neroweg's troops to its acme. Instead of marching onward
+towards the edge of the forest, the front rank faces about, anxious only
+to join the body of the army that still finds itself massed at the
+entrance of the fatal causeway. The rush is effected with such fury that
+the deep trenches are speedily filled with the bodies of a mass of
+wounded, dead and dying warriors. The heaped-up corpses soon serve as a
+bridge to the fleeing Franks, whose rear the Breton bolts assail
+unpityingly. At the spectacle of the routed Franks, Vortigern and his
+braves strike up anew the war song with which they had assailed the ears
+of the distracted Franks at the defile of Glen-Clan:</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry">
+<tr><td align="left">"This morning we asked:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.25em;">'How many are there of these Franks?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">How many are there of these barbarians?'</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .5em;">This evening we say:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.25em;">'How many were there of these Franks?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">How many were there of these barbarians?'</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Victory and Glory to Hesus!"</span></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p><a name="page_146" id="page_146"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VIa" id="CHAPTER_VIa"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h3>
+
+<h4>THE FOREST OF CARDIK.</h4>
+
+<p>"What a war! What a war!" exclaim the warriors of Louis the Pious,
+leaving at every step some of their companions behind among the rocks
+and the marshes of Armorica. "Every hedge of the fields, every ditch in
+the valleys conceals a Breton of steady eye and hand. The stone of the
+sling, the arrow of the bow whiz everywhere through the air, nor miss
+their aim. The pits of the precipices, and the bottoms of the stagnant
+waters swallow up the bodies of our soldiers. If we penetrate into the
+forests, the danger redoubles. Every copse, the branches of every tree,
+conceal an enemy!"</p>
+
+<p>Neroweg, having barely escaped with his life from the disaster of the
+marsh of Peulven, spends the night upon the hill with the remaining
+fragment of his army. At early dawn the next morning he orders the
+trumpets and clarions to call his men to their ranks. At the head of his
+warriors he again steps upon the narrow jetty of the marsh. He is
+determined to force his way into the forest of Cardik. Footmen and
+horses again trample over the heaped-up corpses in the wide trenches. No
+ambush now retards the passage of the Franks. By sunrise the last
+detachments have crossed the marsh, and all the forces still at the
+command of Neroweg are deployed along the skirts of the forest that is
+now serving as<a name="page_147" id="page_147"></a> a retreat to the Gauls of Armorica, and where they have
+taken their next stand.</p>
+
+<p>The primeval forest extends, towards the west, as far as the steep banks
+of a river that runs into the sea, and towards the east, up to a chain
+of precipitous hills. Furious at the defeat he suffered on the previous
+evening, the Frankish chief is hardly able to restrain his ardor. Always
+accompanied by the monk, he advances into the forest. The oaks, the
+elms, the ash trees, the birch trees, raise their gigantic trunks and
+interlace their spreading branches. Between these trunks, all is
+underwood, bramble and briar. Only one narrow and tortuous path presents
+itself to Neroweg's sight. He enters it. Daylight barely penetrates the
+walk through the dense vault of verdure, shaped overhead by the foliage
+of the stately trees. Thickets of holly seven or eight feet high fringe
+the way. Their prickly leaves render them impenetrable.</p>
+
+<p>Unable to wander off either to the right or to the left, the soldiers
+are compelled to follow the defile of verdure. Laboring under the shock
+of their recent disasters, they march with mistrust through the somber
+forest of Cardik, speaking only in undertones, and from time to time
+interrogating with uneasy looks the leafy branches of the trees, or the
+thicket that borders the route. For a while nothing justifies the
+apprehensions of the Frankish cohorts. The silence of the forest is
+disturbed only by the rhythmic and muffled sound of their steps, and the
+clank of their arms. But even the silence itself nourishes the vague
+fears of the Franks. The defile of Glen-Clan and the marsh of Peulven
+also were silent! More than one-half of the rest of the army now left to
+Neroweg has entered the forest, when, reaching one of the turns of the
+winding path, the Frankish chief, who marches at the head<a name="page_148" id="page_148"></a> of his
+horsemen accompanied by the monk, suddenly stops short. The path has
+vanished. Gigantic oaks and elms, a hundred feet tall and from fifteen
+to twenty feet in circumference, and bearing the evidence of having only
+freshly fallen under the axe of the woodman, lie heaped upon each other
+and so tangled in their fall across the route that their enormous
+branches and colossal trunks present an impassible barrier to the
+cavalry. Only foot soldiers might possibly scale the obstruction, and
+cut their way across with hatchets.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! What a war!" cries out Neroweg, clenching his fists. "After the
+defile, the marsh! After the marsh, the forest! I shall have barely
+one-third of my forces left by the time I join the other chiefs!
+Accursed Bretons, may the fires of hell consume you!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, these heathens will burn! They shall burn until the last day of
+judgment!" responds the monk with deep vexation. "Courage, Neroweg!
+Courage! This last obstacle being overcome, we shall arrive at the moor
+of Kennor. There we shall join the other two army corps of Louis the
+Pious, and we shall all jointly penetrate into the valley of Lokfern,
+where we will exterminate these accursed Bretons to the last man."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you seen me falter in courage? By the great St. Martin, it looks
+as if you were in league with the enemy, judging by the route you have
+guided us on! Already have you twice led us into an ambush, you
+miserable priest!"</p>
+
+<p>"Have I not braved all the dangers at your side?" observes the priest,
+holding up his left arm, that is wound in a bloodstained bandage. "Was I
+not myself wounded last evening when we attempted to cross the marsh of
+Peulven? Can you question my courage or fidelity?"</p>
+
+<p>"How are we to find another route? The one barred is the<a name="page_149" id="page_149"></a> only one, you
+told me, that crosses this forest, otherwise impracticable to an army."</p>
+
+<p>The monk looks around; he reflects; but no answer proceeds from his
+lips. A prey to discouragement and increasing terror, the soldiers begin
+to grumble, when suddenly three quickly succeeding cries of the
+night-bird pierce the air. Immediately the Breton slingers and archers,
+ambushed behind the breast-work of fallen trees, assail the Franks with
+a volley of stones and arrows. Enormous oak branches, previously
+prepared, detach themselves from the tops of their trunks, and come down
+crashing upon the heads of the soldiers, killing or mutilating them.
+Anew, panic seizes the Franks; a fresh carnage decimates them.
+Cavalrymen thrown from their horses, foot soldiers trampled under the
+hoofs of the frightened steeds, all blinded, their flesh torn as in
+their fright they precipitate themselves into the thick of the prickly
+holly hedges&mdash;such is this day's spectacle presented to the delighted
+Breton eyes by the invading army of Neroweg. What an inspiring spectacle
+to the Armorican Gauls! The air is filled with the moans of the dying,
+the imprecations of the wounded, the threats hurled at the monk, now
+roundly charged with treason.</p>
+
+<p>The carnage and the panic are at their height when, climbing to the top
+of the breast-work of trees whence he can gain a full view of the
+distracted foe, Vortigern appears before the Franks and calls out to
+them defiantly:</p>
+
+<p>"Now you may try to cross the forest. Our quivers are empty. We shall
+retreat to replenish them and shall be ready to meet you in the valley
+of Lokfern."</p>
+
+<p>Vortigern has barely uttered these words when his eyes catch sight of
+the chief of the Franks, who, having descended<a name="page_150" id="page_150"></a> from his horse, holds up
+against the stones and bolts of his assailants, his white buckler, on
+which three eagle's talons are seen painted. At the sight of the device
+of his own stock's ancestral foe, Vortigern places his last arrow upon
+the string of his bow.</p>
+
+<p>"The descendant of Joel sends this to the descendant of the Nerowegs."</p>
+
+<p>The arrow whizzes. It grazes the lower border of the Frank's buckler,
+and penetrates his knee just above the jointure.</p>
+
+<p>Neroweg falls upon the other knee, points out the Gaul to several
+archers in his vicinity, and cries:</p>
+
+<p>"Take aim at that bandit! Kill him!"</p>
+
+<p>The Saxon arrows fly through the air; two strike, and quiver where they
+strike, in the upturned branches of the tree on which Vortigern has
+mounted; the third enters his left arm.</p>
+
+<p>The descendant of Joel quickly draws out the sharp-edged iron, throws it
+back at the Franks with a defiant gesture, and disappears behind the
+twisted branches of the improvised barricade.</p>
+
+<p>Three times the cry of the night bird is again heard in the forest, and
+the Bretons disperse along paths known only to them, again singing as
+they go, the ancient war-song, the sound of whose refrain is gradually
+lost in the distance:</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry">
+<tr><td align="left">"This morning we asked:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.25em;">'How many are there of these Franks?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">How many are there of these barbarians?'</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .5em;">This evening we say:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.25em;">'How many were there of these Franks?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">How many were there of these barbarians?'</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Victory, Victory for Gaul!"</span></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p><a name="page_151" id="page_151"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VIIa" id="CHAPTER_VIIa"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h3>
+
+<h4>THE MOOR OF KENNOR.</h4>
+
+<p>About four leagues in width and three in length&mdash;such is the expanse of
+the moor of Kennor. It constitutes a vast plateau that slopes to the
+north toward the valley of Lokfern, and is bounded on the west by a wide
+river that pours its waters into the Sea of Armorica only a little
+distance away. The forest of Cardik and the last spurs of the mountain
+chain of Men-Brez border on the moor. The moor is covered throughout its
+extent by heather two or three feet high and almost burned out by the
+scorching sun of the dog-days. Level as a lake, the immense barren and
+desert plain presents a desolate aspect. A violent east wind causes the
+tall heather, now of the color of dead leaves, to undulate like a
+peaceful sheet of water. Above, the sky is of a bright blue on this
+sultry and windy day. An August sun inundates with its blinding light
+the desert expanse of heather, whose silence is disturbed only by the
+sharp chirp of the grasshopper, or the low moan of the gale.</p>
+
+<p>Presently a new element enters upon the scene. Skirting the bank of the
+river, a black and confused mass heaves into sight, stretches out its
+length, and moves toward the centre of the plain. It is the one of the
+three army corps led in person by Louis the Pious against the Breton
+Gauls. Long before its appearance, other troops, formed in compact
+cohorts, have<a name="page_152" id="page_152"></a> been descending on the east the last slopes of Men-Brez.
+They, likewise, are advancing toward the plain&mdash;the place agreed upon
+for the junction of the three armies that had invaded Armorica, burning
+and ravaging the country upon their passage, and driving the population
+back towards the valley of Lokfern. The only division absent from the
+rendezvous is the contingent captained by Neroweg, which, since morning,
+has been struggling in the forest of Cardik. Finally it has issued in
+disorder from the woods, and re-formed its ranks. After incalculable
+labor, hewing, axe in hand, a passage through the thickets, leaving
+their cavalry behind, and forced to retreat upon their steps back to the
+marsh of Peulven, the troops of Neroweg at last succeed in crossing the
+forest. These troops now number barely one-half their original strength.
+They are reduced, not only by the losses sustained in the passage of the
+defile of Glen-Clan, of the marsh of Peulven, and the forest of Cardik,
+but also by the defection of large numbers of men, who, being more and
+more terror stricken by the resistance that they encountered, refused to
+listen to the orders of their chief, and followed the cavalry in its
+retreat. Neroweg's greatly reduced contingent now also appears in sight
+from the opposite side. The three army corps have descried one another.
+Their march converges towards the centre of the plain. The distance
+between them becomes so small that they are able to see one another's
+armor, casques and lances, glistening in the sun. The division of Louis
+the Pious, having been the first to descend into the plain over the
+hills of Men-Brez, halts, in order to wait for the other divisions. The
+troops under Louis the Pious himself are no less demoralized and reduced
+in numbers than the division under Neroweg. They have undergone similar
+vicissitudes during<a name="page_153" id="page_153"></a> their long march, having had to cut their way
+across a seemingly endless series of ambushes. The sight of their
+companions arriving from the opposite side revives their courage.
+Henceforth they expect to fight in the open. As far as the eye can
+reach, the vast plain that they now have entered upon lies fully exposed
+to view. It can conceal no trap. The last struggle is now at hand, and
+with it the close of the war. The Bretons, crowded together just beyond
+in the valley of Lokfern, are to be crushed by a combined armed force
+that is still three times stronger than theirs.</p>
+
+<p>The vanguards of the three converging divisions are about to join when
+suddenly, from the east, whence a dry and steady gale is blowing, little
+puffs of smoke, at first almost imperceptible, are seen to rise at
+irregular distances from one another. The puffs of smoke are going up
+from the extreme eastern edge of the moor; they spread; they mingle with
+one another over an area more than two leagues in length; by little and
+little they present the aspect of one continuous belt of blackish smoke
+rising high and spreading into the air, and from time to time breaking
+out into lambent flames.</p>
+
+<p>The fire has been kindled at a hundred different spots by the Breton
+Gauls with the dry heather of the moor. Driven by the violent gale the
+girdle of flame soon embraces the horizon from the east to the south,
+from the slopes of Men-Brez to the skirt of the forest. It advances with
+rapid strides like the waves of the incoming tide lashed by a furious
+wind. Terrified at the sight of the burning waves that are rushing upon
+them from the right with the swiftness of a hurricane, the Frankish
+ranks waver for a moment. To their left, runs a deep river; behind them,
+rises the forest of Cardik; before them the plateau slopes towards the
+valley of Lokfern. Himself<a name="page_154" id="page_154"></a> running for life towards the valley, Louis
+the Pious thereby gives to his troops the signal to flee. They follow
+their king tumultuously, anxious only to leave the moor behind them
+before the flames, that now invade the plateau from end to end, entirely
+cut off their retreat. Impatient to escape the danger, the cavalry
+breaks ranks, follows the example set by the king, traverses the cohorts
+of the infantry, throws them down, and rides rough-shod over them. The
+disorder, the tumult, the terror are at their height. The soldiers
+struggle with the horsemen and with one another. The fiery wave advances
+steadily; it advances faster than it can be run away from. The swiftest
+steed cannot cope with it. The all-embracing sheet of fire reaches first
+the soldiers whom the cavalry has thrown down and left wounded behind;
+it speedily envelopes the bulk of the army. In an instant the distracted
+cohorts are seen up to their waists in the midst of the flames.</p>
+
+<p>By the valor of our fathers, it is the hell of the damned in this world!
+Frightful! torture! Excruciating pain! A cheering sight for the eyes of
+a Breton Gaul, harassed by invaders, to behold his merciless assailers
+in. Frankish horsemen cased in iron and fallen from their steeds, roast
+within their red-hot armor like tortoises in their shell. The footmen
+jump and leap to withdraw their nether extremities from the embrace of
+the caressing flames. But the flames never leave them; the flames gain
+the lead. Their feet and legs are grilled, refuse their support, and the
+men drop into the furnace emitting cries of despair. The horses fare no
+better despite their breathless gallop; they feel their flanks and
+buttocks devoured by the flames; they become savage. They are seized
+with a vertigo; they rear, plunge and fall over upon their riders.
+Horses and riders roll down into the brasier at their feet. The<a name="page_155" id="page_155"></a> horses
+neigh piteously, the riders moan or utter curses. An immense concert of
+imprecations, of fierce cries of pain and rage rises heavenward with the
+flames of the magnificent hecatomb of Frankish warriors!</p>
+
+<p>Oh! Beautiful to the eye is the moor of Kennor, still ruddy and smoking
+an hour after it is set on fire and consumed to the very root of its
+heather! Splendid brasier three leagues wide, strewn with thousands of
+Frankish bodies, shapeless, charred. Warm quarry above which already
+flocks of carrion-crows from the forest of Cardik are hovering! Glory to
+you, Bretons! More than a third of the Frankish army met death on the
+moor of Kennor.</p>
+
+<p>"What a war! What a war!" also exclaims Louis the Pious.</p>
+
+<p>Aye, a merciless war; a holy war; a thrice holy war, waged by a people
+in defence of their freedom, their homes, their fields, their hearths;
+Oh, ancient land of the Gauls! Oh, old Armorica, sacred mother!
+Everything turns into a weapon in the hands of your rugged children
+against their barbarous invaders! Rocks, precipices, marshes, woods,
+moors on fire! Oh, Brittany, betrayed by those of your own children who
+succumbed to the wiles of the Catholic priests, stabbed at your heart by
+the sword of the Frankish kings, and pouring out the generous heart
+blood of your children, perchance, after all, you will feel the yoke of
+the conquerer on your neck! But the bones of your enemies, crushed,
+burned and drowned in the struggle, will tell to our descendants the
+tale of a resistance that Armorica offered to her casqued and mitred
+invaders!<a name="page_156" id="page_156"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VIIIa" id="CHAPTER_VIIIa"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h3>
+
+<h4>THE VALLEY OF LOKFERN.</h4>
+
+<p>Decimated by the conflagration of the moor of Kennor, the Frankish army
+flees in disorder in the direction of the valley of Lokfern, that lies
+slightly below the vast plateau on which an hour before the three
+Frankish divisions have joined, confident that their trials are ended.
+Escaped from the disaster of the conflagration and carried onward by the
+impetuosity of their steeds, a portion of the Frankish cavalry that
+follows Louis the Pious in his precipitate flight, arrives at the
+confines of the plateau. Driven by a terror that left them no thought
+but to outstrip one another, the fleeing riders seem to give no heed to
+the sight that unfolds before them. At the foot of the slope that they
+are about to descend, stands the numerous Breton cavalry, drawn up in
+battle array, under the command of Morvan and Vortigern. It is only a
+cavalry of rustics, yet intrepid, veterans in warfare, perfectly
+mounted. Carried by the headlong course of their horses beyond the edge
+of the plateau and down the slope to the valley, the Franks rush in
+confused order upon the Breton cavalry that is drawn up as if to bar
+their passage; they rush onward, either unable to restrain their still
+frightened steeds, or conceiving a vague hope of crushing the opposing
+Bretons under the irresistible violence of their impetuous descent. The
+Breton cavalry, however, instead of waiting for the Franks, quickly
+parts in two corps, one commanded by Morvan, the other by Vortigern.<a name="page_157" id="page_157"></a>
+One corps seems to flee to the right, the other to the left. The space
+from the foot of the hill to the river Scoer being thus left free by the
+sudden and rapid man&oelig;uvre of the Gauls, most of the Frankish horsemen
+find themselves hardly able to rein in their horses in time to escape
+falling into the water. A moment of disorder follows. It is turned to
+advantage by Morvan and Vortigern. The Frankish riders being dispersed
+and engaged with their steeds, Vortigern and Morvan turn about and fall
+upon them. They take the foe upon the flanks, right and left; charge
+upon them with fury; make havoc among them. Most of them are sabred to
+death, or have their heads beaten in with axes, others are driven into
+the river. During the fierce melee, the remnant of the infantry of Louis
+the Pious, still fleeing from the furnace of the moor of Kennor, arrives
+upon the spot in disorder. Trained in the trade of massacre, they
+promptly reform their ranks and pour down upon the Breton cavalry. At
+first victorious, these are finally crushed, overwhelmed by vastly
+superior numbers. On the other side of the river the rustic Gallic
+infantry still continue to hold their ground&mdash;husbandmen, woo-men and
+shepherds armed with pikes, scythes and axes, and many of them supplied
+with bows and slings. Behind this mass of warriors, and within an
+enclosure defended by barricades of heaped up trunks of trees and
+ditches, are assembled the women and children of the combatants. All
+their families have fled distracted before the invaders, carrying their
+valuables in their flight, and now await with indescribable agony the
+issue of this last battle.</p>
+
+<p>Weep! Weep, Brittany! and yet be proud of your glory! Your sons, crushed
+down by numbers, resisted to their last breath; all have fallen wounded
+or dead in defence of their freedom!<a name="page_158" id="page_158"></a></p>
+
+<p>The river is fordable for infantry at only one place. The monk who
+accompanies Neroweg points out the passage to the troops of Louis the
+Pious. They cross it immediately after the annihilation of the cavalry
+of Morvan. The Armoricans who are drawn up on the opposite bank of the
+Scoer heroically defend the ground inch by inch, man to man, ever
+falling back toward the fortified enclosure that is the last refuge of
+our families. Marching over heaps of corpses, the soldiery of Louis the
+Pious finally assail the fortified enclosure, all its defenders having
+been killed or wounded. The enclosure is taken. According to their
+custom, the Franks slaughter the children, put the women and maids to
+the torture of infamous treatment, and lead them away captive to the
+interior of Gaul. Ermond the Black, a monk and familiar of Louis the
+Pious in this impious war, wrote its account in Latin verse. The death
+of Morvan is narrated in the poem as follows:</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry">
+<tr><td align="left">"Then presently the cry runs through the ranks</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">That Morvan's head, the Breton chieftain's head,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">Has been brought in unto the Frankish King:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">To see it haste the Franks; they shout with joy</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">At prospect to behold the grisley sight.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">From hand to hand the bloody head is passed,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">Marred with the sword that hewed it from its trunk.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">Witchaire the Abbot next is called upon</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">T&#8217; identify the member, if it be</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">The head of Morvan, that redoubted chief.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">He pours some water on the matted front,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">He laves it, wipes the hair from off its brow,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .35em;">And cries '&#8216;Tis Morvan&mdash;&#8216;tis his Gallic lour!'"</span></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>Thus Brittany, once lost to the Franks, is placed anew under their
+sway.<a name="page_159" id="page_159"></a></p>
+
+<h3><a name="EPILOGUE" id="EPILOGUE"></a>EPILOGUE</h3>
+
+<p>Vortigern, the grandson of Amael, wrote this account of the war of the
+Franks against Brittany. Left for dead on the banks of the Scoer, he did
+not recover his senses until a day and a night had passed after the
+defeat of the Bretons. Some Christian druids, led to the spot by
+Caswallan, who had escaped the massacre, came to the field of battle to
+gather the wounded who might still be alive. Vortigern was of the
+number. From them he learned that his sister Noblede, the wife of
+Morvan, together with other women and young girls who took refuge in the
+fortified enclosure, had stabbed themselves to death in order to escape
+being outraged by the Franks and led into slavery. After Abbot Witchaire
+left the house of Morvan on his return trip to announce to Louis the
+Pious the refusal of the Armorican Gauls to pay the tribute demanded
+from them, Vortigern returned with his wife and children to Karnak in
+order to gather in the crops from his fields. The harvest being in, he
+left his family at the house of his parents, and returned to Morvan in
+order to join the latter's forces, and oppose the army of Louis the
+Pious. Immediately after his wounds were healed, Vortigern returned to
+Karnak, where he rejoined his wife and children. The Franks had not
+dared push their invasion beyond the valley of Lokfern. They contented
+themselves with leaving Armorica devastated and stripped of her bravest
+defenders. Yet is she not subdued. She but waits the moment to revolt
+anew.<a name="page_160" id="page_160"></a></p>
+
+<p>Vortigern joined this narrative to the other narratives of his family,
+and he accompanied his own account with the two Carlovingian coins, the
+gift of Thetralde, one of the daughters of Charles the Great. These
+relics of the family of Joel now consist of Hena's little gold sickle,
+Guilhern's little brass bell, Sylvest's iron collar, Genevieve's silver
+cross, Shanvoch's casque's lark, Ronan the Vagre's poniard's hilt and
+his branding needle, Bonaik's abbatial crosier and Vortigern's
+Carlovingian coins, together with the narratives that accompany them.</p>
+
+<p>Myself, Rosneven, the oldest son of Vortigern, who make this entry at
+the foot of my father's narrative, can only record here my father's
+death on the fifth day of February of 889. These have been sad years for
+Brittany, and also for our own family in particular. Our special sorrows
+proceed from the estrangement of my younger brothers, one of whom left
+Gaul and sailed to the country of the Northman pirates. I lack both the
+spirit and the will to recite these lamentable events. Perhaps my
+youngest brother Gomer, gifted with more energy, ability and
+perseverance than myself, may some day undertake the task.</p>
+
+<p class="c sml">THE END.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3 class="top5">FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> "The daughters of the Emperor Charles always accompanied
+him on his trips into the interior of Gaul. They were handsome beauties;
+he loved them passionately; he never allowed them to marry, and kept
+them all with him till his death. Although happy in everything else,
+Charles experienced in them the malignity of adverse fortune; but he
+buried his chagrin, and behaved towards them as if they had never given
+cause for evil suspicions, and as if rumor had never been busy with
+their names."&mdash;<i>Chronicles of Eginhard, p. 145, Collected History of
+France.</i></p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> For Amael's story, see "The Abbatial Crosier," the
+preceding book of the series.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_3" id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> "The Gallic woman equalled her husband in courage and
+strength. She sat in his councils of war with him. Her eyes were more
+furious when she was angered, and she swung her arms, as white as snow,
+and dealt blows as heavy as if they came from an engine of
+war."&mdash;Ammienus Marcellinus, <i>Notes of the Martyrs</i>, vol. XVIII, book
+IX.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_4" id="Footnote_D_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_4"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> "The heart of Louis the Pious (Charlemagne's son) was,
+naturally, long indignant at the conduct indulged in by his sisters
+under the paternal roof, the only blot upon its name. Desiring, then, to
+amend these disorders, he sent before him Walla, Warnaire, Lambert and
+Ingobert, with the order to watch carefully, as soon as they should
+arrive at Aix-la-Chapelle, that no new scandal should occur; and to put
+under heavy guard those who had soiled the majesty of the empire with a
+criminal commerce (with the daughters of the Emperor). Certain ones,
+guilty of these crimes, came before Louis the Pious to obtain pardon,
+which they received. Audoin alone resisted. He smote Warnaire that he
+died, wounded Lambert in the thigh, and slew himself with one blow of
+his sword.... Whereupon Louis the Pious decided to drive out of the
+palace all that multitude of women which occupied it in the time of his
+father."&mdash;L'Astronome, <i>Life of Louis the Pious</i>, pp. 345-346,
+<i>Collected History of France</i>.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_5" id="Footnote_E_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_5"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> See "The Casque's Lark."</p></div>
+
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
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+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Carlovingian Coins, by Eugene Sue
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Carlovingian Coins
+ Or The Daughters of Charlemagne. A Tale of the Ninth Century
+
+Author: Eugene Sue
+
+Translator: Daniel De Leon
+
+Release Date: June 29, 2010 [EBook #33021]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CARLOVINGIAN COINS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was
+produced from scanned images of public domain material
+from the Google Print project.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE CARLOVINGIAN COINS
+
+THE FULL SERIES OF
+
+The Mysteries of the People
+
+OR
+
+History of a Proletarian Family Across the Ages
+
+By EUGENE SUE
+
+_Consisting of the Following Works_:
+
+THE GOLD SICKLE; or, _Hena the Virgin of the Isle of Sen_.
+
+THE BRASS BELL; or, _The Chariot of Death_.
+
+THE IRON COLLAR; or, _Faustine and Syomara_.
+
+THE SILVER CROSS; or, _The Carpenter of Nazareth_.
+
+THE BASQUE'S LARK; or, _Victoria, the Mother of the Camps_.
+
+THE PONIARD'S HILT; or, _Karadeucq and Ronan_.
+
+THE BRANDING NEEDLE; or, _The Monastery of Charolles_.
+
+THE ABBATIAL CROSIER; or, _Bonaik and Septimine_.
+
+THE CARLOVINGIAN COINS; or, _The Daughters of Charlemagne_.
+
+THE IRON ARROW-HEAD; or, _The Buckler Maiden_.
+
+THE INFANT'S SKULL; or, _The End of the World_.
+
+THE PILGRIM'S SHELL; or, _Fergan the Quarryman_.
+
+THE IRON PINCERS; or, _Mylio and Karvel_.
+
+THE IRON TREVET; or, _Jocelyn the Champion_.
+
+THE EXECUTIONER'S KNIFE; or, _Joan of Arc_.
+
+THE POCKET BIBLE; or, _Christian the Printer_.
+
+THE BLACKSMITH'S HAMMER; or, _The Peasant Code_.
+
+THE SWORD OF HONOR; or, _The Foundation of the French Republic_.
+
+THE GALLEY SLAVE'S RING; or, _The Family Lebrenn_.
+
+Published Uniform With This Volume By
+
+THE NEW YORK LABOR NEWS CO.
+
+28 CITY HALL PLACE NEW YORK CITY
+
+
+
+
+THE CARLOVINGIAN COINS
+
+OR
+
+THE DAUGHTERS OF CHARLEMAGNE
+
+A Tale of the Ninth Century
+
+By EUGENE SUE
+
+TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL FRENCH BY
+
+DANIEL DE LEON
+
+NEW YORK LABOR NEWS COMPANY. 1908
+
+Copyright 1908, by the
+
+NEW YORK LABOR NEWS CO.
+
+
+
+
+INDEX
+
+
+TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. v
+
+PART I--AIX-LA-CHAPELLE.
+
+CHAPTER.
+
+I. AMAEL AND VORTIGERN. 3
+
+II. THE COURTYARD OF THE PALACE. 18
+
+III. IN THE GALLERIES OF THE PALACE. 24
+
+IV. CHARLEMAGNE. 29
+
+V. THE PALATINE SCHOOL. 40
+
+VI. THE BISHOP OF LIMBURG. 44
+
+VII. TO THE HUNT. 54
+
+VIII. THE FOREST OF OPPENHEIM. 58
+
+IX. AT THE MORT. 71
+
+X. EMPEROR AND HOSTAGE. 77
+
+XI. FRANK AND BRETON. 88
+
+
+PART II--THE CONQUEST OF BRITTANY.
+
+I. IN THE BLACK MOUNTAINS. 107
+
+II. THE BRETON CHIEF. 112
+
+III. ABBOT AND BRETON. 120
+
+IV. THE DEFILE OF GLEN-CLAN. 132
+
+V. THE MARSH OF PEULVEN. 139
+
+VI. THE FOREST OF CARDIK. 146
+
+VII. THE MOOR OF KENNOR. 151
+
+VIII. THE VALLEY OF LOKFERN. 156
+
+EPILOGUE. 159
+
+
+
+
+TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE
+
+
+The Age of Charlemagne is the watershed of the history of the present
+era. The rough barbarian flood that poured over Western Europe reaches
+in that age a turning point of which Charlemagne is eminently the
+incarnation. The primitive physical features of the barbarian begin to
+be blunted, or toned down by a new force that has lain latent in him,
+but that only then begins to step into activity--the spiritual, the
+intellectual powers. The Age of Charlemagne is the age of the first
+conflict between the intellectual and the brute in the principal
+branches of the races that occupied Europe. The conflict raged on a
+national scale, and it raged in each particular individual. The colossal
+stature, physical and mental, of Charlemagne himself typifies the epoch.
+Brute instincts of the most primitive and savage, intellectual
+aspirations of the loftiest are intermingled, each contends for
+supremacy--and alternately wins it, in the monarch, in his court and in
+his people.
+
+_The Carlovingian Coins; or, The Daughters of Charlemagne_ is the ninth
+of the brilliant series of historical novels written by Eugene Sue under
+the title, _The Mysteries of the People; or, History of a Proletarian
+Family Across the Ages_. The age and its people are portrayed in a
+charming and chaste narrative, that is fittingly and artistically
+brought to a close by a veritable epopee--the Frankish conquest of
+Brittany, and, as fittingly, serves to introduce the next epopee--the
+Northman's invasion of Gaul--dealt with in the following story, _The
+Iron Arrow Head; or, The Buckler Maiden_.
+
+DANIEL DE LEON.
+
+New York, May, 1905.
+
+
+
+
+PART I.
+
+AIX-LA-CHAPELLE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+AMAEL AND VORTIGERN.
+
+
+Towards the commencement of the month of November of the year 811, a
+numerous cavalcade was one afternoon wending its way to the city of
+Aix-la-Chapelle, the capital of the Empire of Charles the Great--an
+Empire that had been so rapidly increased by rapidly succeeding
+conquests over Germany, Saxony, Bavaria, Bohemia, Hungary, Italy and
+Spain, that Gaul, as formerly during the days of the Roman Emperors, was
+again but a province among the vast domains. The ambitious designs of
+Charles Martel had been realized. Childeric, the last scion of the
+Merovingian dynasty, had been got rid of. Martel's descendants took his
+seat, and now the Hammerer's grandson wielded the sceptre of Clovis over
+an immensely wider territory.
+
+Eight or ten cavalry soldiers rode in advance of the cavalcade. A little
+apart from the smaller escort, four cavaliers ambled leisurely. Two of
+them wore brilliant armor after the German fashion. One of these was
+accompanied by a venerable old man of a martial and open countenance.
+His long beard, snow white as his hair that was half hidden under a fur
+cap, fell over his chest. He wore a Gallic blouse of grey wool, held
+around his waist by a belt, from which hung a long sword with an iron
+hilt. His ample hose of rough white fabric reached slightly below his
+knees and left exposed his tightly laced leather leggings, that ended in
+his boots whose heels were armed with spurs. The old man was Amael, who
+under the assumed Frankish name of Berthoald had, eighty years before,
+saved the life of Charles Martel at the battle of Poitiers against the
+Arabs, had declined the post offered him by Charles, as jailer of the
+last descendant of Clovis, and, finally, smitten by conscience, had
+renounced wealth and dignity under the Frankish enslavers of Gaul, and
+returned to his people and country of Brittany, or Armorica, as the
+Romans named it. Amael now touched his hundredth year. His great age and
+his somewhat portly stature notwithstanding, he still looked full of
+vigor. He handled with dexterity the black horse that he rode and whose
+spirit seemed no wise abated by the long road it had traveled. From time
+to time, Amael turned round upon his saddle in order to cast a look of
+paternal solicitude upon his grandson Vortigern, a lad of hardly
+eighteen years, who was accompanied by the other of the two Frankish
+warriors. The face of Vortigern, of exceptional beauty for a man, was
+framed in long chestnut ringlets, that, escaping from his scarlet coif,
+tumbled down below a chin that was as dainty as a woman's. His large
+blue eyes, fringed with lashes black as his bold arched eyebrows, had an
+air at once ingenuous and resolute. His red lips, shaded by the down of
+adolescence, revealed at every smile two rows of teeth white as enamel.
+A slightly aquiline nose, a fresh and pure complexion somewhat tanned by
+the sun, completed the harmonious make-up of the youth's charming
+visage. His clothes, made after the fashion of his grandfather's,
+differed from them only in a touch of elegance that bespoke a mother's
+hand, tenderly proud of her son's comely appearance. Accordingly, the
+blue blouse of the lad was ornamented around the neck, over the
+shoulders and at the extremities of the sleeves with embroideries of
+white wool, while a calfskin belt, from which hung a sword with
+polished hilt, encircled his supple waist. His linen hose half hid his
+deerskin leggings, that were tightly laced to his nervy limbs and
+rejoined his boots, made of tanned skin and equipped with large copper
+spurs that glistened like gold. Although his right arm was held in a
+scarf of some black material, Vortigern handled his horse with his left
+hand with as much ease as skill. For traveling companion he had a young
+warrior of agreeable mien, bold and mercurial, alert and frolicsome. The
+mobility of his face recalled in nothing the stolidity of the German.
+His name was Octave. Roman by birth, in appearance and character, his
+inexhaustible Southern wit often succeeded in unwrinkling the brow of
+his young companion. The latter, however, would soon again relapse into
+a sort of silent and somber revery. Thus for some time absorbed in
+sadness, he walked his horse slowly, when Octave broke in gaily in a
+tone of friendly reproach:
+
+"By Bacchus! You still are preoccupied and silent."
+
+"I am thinking of my mother," answered the youth, smothering a sigh. "I
+am thinking of my mother, of my sister and of my country."
+
+"Come now; you should, on the contrary, chase away, such saddening
+thoughts. To the devil with sadness. Long live joy."
+
+"Octave, gayness ill beseems a prisoner. I cannot share your
+light-heartedness."
+
+"You are no prisoner, only a hostage. No bond binds you but your own
+word; prisoners, on the contrary, are led firmly pinioned to the slave
+market. Your grandfather and yourself ride freely, with us for your
+companions, and we are escorting you, not to a slave market, but to the
+palace of the Emperor Charles the Great, the mightiest monarch of the
+whole world. Finally, prisoners are disarmed; your grandfather as well
+as yourself carry your swords."
+
+"Of what use are our swords now to us?" replied Vortigern with painful
+bitterness. "Brittany is vanquished."
+
+"Such are the chances of war. You bravely did your duty as a soldier.
+You fought like a demon at the side of your grandfather. He was not
+wounded, and you only received a lance-thrust. By Mars, the valiant god
+of war, your blows were so heavy in the melee that you should have been
+hacked to pieces."
+
+"We would not then have survived the disgrace of Armorica."
+
+"There is no disgrace in being overcome when one has defended himself
+bravely--above all when the forces that one resisted and decimated, were
+the veteran bands of the great Charles."
+
+"Not one of your Emperor's soldiers should have escaped."
+
+"Not one?" merrily rejoined the young Roman. "What, not even myself? Not
+even I, who take such pains to be a pleasant traveling companion, and
+who tax my eloquence to entertain you? Verily, you are not at all
+grateful!"
+
+"Octave, I do not hate you personally; I hate your race; they have,
+without provocation, carried war and desolation into my country."
+
+"First of all, my young friend, I am not of the Frankish race. I am a
+Roman. Gladly do I relinquish to you those gross Germans, who are as
+savage as the bears of their forests. But, let it be said among
+ourselves, this war against Brittany was not without reason. Did not you
+Bretons, possessed of the very devil as you are, attack last year and
+exterminate the Frankish garrison posted at Vannes?"
+
+"And by what right did Charles cause our frontiers to be invaded by his
+troops twenty-five years ago? His whim stood him instead of right."
+
+The conversation between Vortigern and Octave was interrupted by the
+voice of Amael, who, turning in his saddle, called his grandson to him.
+The latter, anxious to hasten to his grandfather, and also yielding to
+an impulse of anger that the discussion with the young Roman had
+provoked, brusquely clapped his spurs to the flanks of his charger. The
+animal, thus suddenly urged, leaped forward so violently that in two or
+three bounds it would have left Amael behind, had not Vortigern,
+restraining his mount with a firm hand, made the animal rear on its
+haunches. The youth then resumed his walk abreast of his grandfather and
+the other Frankish warrior, who, turning to the old man, remarked:
+
+"I do not marvel at the superiority of your Breton cavalry, when a lad
+of the age of your grandson, and despite the wound that must smart him,
+can handle his horse in such a manner. You yourself, for a centenarian,
+are as firm in your saddle as the lad himself. Horns of the devil!"
+
+"The lad was barely five years old when his father and I used to place
+him on the back of the colts raised on our meadows," answered the old
+man. The recollection of those peaceful happy days now ended, cast a
+shadow of sorrow upon Amael's face. He remained silent for a moment.
+Thereupon, addressing Vortigern, he said:
+
+"I called you to inquire whether your wound had ceased smarting."
+
+"Grandfather, I hardly feel it any longer. If you allow me, I would free
+my arm of the embarrassing scarf."
+
+"No; your wound might open again. No imprudence. Remember your mother,
+and also your sister and her husband, both of whom love you like a
+brother."
+
+"Alas! Will I never see that mother, that sister, that brother whom I
+love so dearly?"
+
+"Patience!" answered Amael in an undertone, so as not to be heard by the
+Frankish warrior at his side. "You may see Brittany again a good deal
+sooner than you expect--prudence and patience!"
+
+"Truly?" inquired the youth impetuously. "Oh, grandfather, what
+happiness!"
+
+The old man made a sign to Vortigern to control himself, and then
+proceeded aloud: "I am always afraid lest the fatigue of traveling
+inflame your wound anew. Fortunately, we must be approaching the end of
+our journey. Not so, Hildebrad?" he added, turning to the warrior.
+
+"Before sunset we shall be at Aix-la-Chapelle," answered the Frank. "But
+for the hill that we are about to ascend, you could see the city at a
+distance."
+
+"Return to your companion, my child," said Amael; "above all, place your
+arm back in its scarf, and be careful how you manage your horse. A
+too-sudden lurch might re-open the wound that is barely closed."
+
+The young man obeyed and gently walked his horse back to Octave. Thanks
+to the mobility of the impressions of youth, Vortigern felt appeased and
+comforted by the words of his grandfather that had made him look forward
+to a speedy return to his family and country. The soothing thought was
+so visibly reflected in his candid features that Octave met him with the
+merry remark:
+
+"What a magician that grandfather of yours must be! You rode off
+preoccupied and fretful, angrily burying your spurs into the flanks of
+your horse, who, poor animal, had done nothing to excite your wrath.
+Now, behold! You return as placid as a bishop astride of his mule."
+
+"The magic of my grandfather has chased away my sadness. You speak
+truly, Octave."
+
+"So much the better. I shall now be free, without fear of reviving your
+chagrin, to give a loose to the increasing joy that I feel at every
+step."
+
+"Why does your joy increase at every step, my dear companion?"
+
+"Because even the dullest horse becomes livelier and more spirited in
+the measure that he approaches the house where he knows that he will
+find provender."
+
+"Octave, I did not know you for such a glutton!"
+
+"In that case, my looks are deceptive, because a glutton, that am
+I--terribly gluttonous of those delicate dainties that are found only at
+court, and that constitute my provender."
+
+"What!" exclaimed Vortigern ingenuously. "Is that great Emperor, whose
+name fills the world, surrounded by a court where nothing is thought of
+but dainties and gluttony?"
+
+"Why, of course," answered Octave gravely and hardly able to refrain
+from laughing outright at the innocence of the young Breton. "Why, of
+course. And what is more, more so than any of the counts, of the dukes,
+of the men of learning, and of the bishops at court, does the Emperor
+himself lust after the dainties that I have in mind. He always keeps a
+room contiguous to his own full of them. Because in the stillness of the
+night--"
+
+"He rises to eat cakes and, perhaps, even sweetmeats!" exclaimed the lad
+with disdain, while Octave, unable longer to contain himself, was
+laughing in his face. "I can think of nothing more unbecoming than
+guzzling on the part of one who governs empires!"
+
+"What's to be done, Vortigern? Great princes must be pardoned for some
+pecadillos. Moreover, with them it is a family failing--the daughters of
+the Emperor--"
+
+"His daughters also are given to this ugly passion for gormandizing?"
+
+"Alas! They are no less gluttonous than their father. They have six or
+seven dainties of their own--most appetizing and most appetized."
+
+"Oh, fie!" cried Vortigern. "Fie. Have they perhaps, also next to their
+bed-chambers, whole rooms stocked with dainties?"
+
+"Calm your legitimate indignation, my boiling-over friend. Young girls
+can not allow themselves quite so much comfort. That's good enough for
+the Emperor Charles, who is no longer nimble on his legs. He is getting
+along in years. He has the gout in his left foot, and his girth is
+enormous."
+
+"That is not to be wondered at. Bound is the stomach to protrude with
+such a gourmand!"
+
+"You will understand that being so heavy on his feet, this mighty
+Emperor is not able, like his daughters, to snatch at a stray dainty on
+the wing, like birdies in an orchard, who nibble lovingly here at a red
+cherry, there at a blushing apple, yonder at a bunch of gilded grapes.
+No, no; with his august paunch and his gouty foot, the august Charles
+would be wholly unable to snap the dainties on the wing. The attention
+due to his empire would lose too much. Hence the Emperor keeps near at
+hand, within easy reach, a room full of dainties, where, at night, he
+finds his provender--"
+
+"Octave!" exclaimed Vortigern, interrupting the young Roman with a
+haughty mien. "I do not wish to be trifled with. At first, I took your
+words seriously. The laughter that you are hardly able to repress, and
+that despite yourself breaks out at frequent intervals, shows me that
+you are trifling with me."
+
+"Come, my brave lad, do not wax angry. I am not bantering. Only that,
+out of respect for the candor of your age, I have used a figure of
+speech to tell the truth. In short, the dainty that I, Charles, his
+daughters, and, by Venus! everybody at court lusts after more or less
+greedily is--love!"
+
+"Love," echoed Vortigern, blushing and for the first time dropping his
+eyes before Octave; but as his uneasiness increased, he proceeded to
+inquire: "But, in order to enjoy love, the daughters of Charles are
+surely married?"
+
+"Oh, innocence of the Golden Age! Oh, Armorican naiveness! Oh, Gallic
+chastity!" cried Octave. But noticing that the young Breton frowned at
+hearing his native land ridiculed, the Roman proceeded: "Far be it from
+me to jest about your brave country. I shall tell you without further
+circumlocution--I shall tell you that Charles' daughters are not
+married; for reasons that he has never cared to explain to anyone, he
+never has wanted them to have a husband."[A]
+
+"Out of pride, no doubt!"
+
+"Oh, oh, on that subject many things are said. The long and short of it
+is that he does not wish to part with them. He adores them, and, except
+he goes to war, he always has them near him during his journeys, along
+with his concubines--or, if you prefer the term, his 'dainties.' The
+word may be less shocking to your prudery. You must know that after
+having successively married and discarded his five wives, Desiderata,
+Hildegarde, Fustrade, Himiltrude and Luitgarde, the Emperor provided
+himself with an assortment of dainties, from which assortment I shall
+mention to you incidentally the juicy Mathalgarde, the sugary
+Gerswinthe, the tart Regina, the toothsome Adalinde--not to mention many
+other saints on this calendar of love. For you must know that the great
+Charles resembles the great Solomon not in wisdom only; he resembles him
+also in his love for _seraglios_, as the Arabs call them. But, by the
+way of the Emperor's daughters. Listen to a little tale. Imma, one of
+these young princesses, was a charming girl. One fine day she became
+smitten with Charles' archchaplain, named Eginhard. An archchaplain
+being, of course, arch-amorous, Imma received Eginhard every night
+secretly in her chamber--to discuss chapel affairs, I surmise. Now,
+then, it so happened that during one winter's night there fell so very
+much snow that the ground was all covered. A little before dawn,
+Eginhard takes his departure from his lady-love; but just as he is about
+to climb down from the window--an ordinary route with lovers--he beholds
+by the light of a superb full moon that the ground is one sheet of white
+snow. To himself he thinks: 'Imma and I are lost! I cannot get out
+without leaving the imprint of my steps in the snow'--"
+
+"And what did he do?" asked Vortigern, more and more interested in the
+story that threw an undefined sense of uneasiness in his heart. "How
+did the two escape from their perilous plight, the poor lovers!"
+
+"Imma, a robustious doxy, a girl both of head and resolution, descends
+by the window, bravely takes the archchaplain on her back, and, without
+tripping under the beloved burden, crosses a wide courtyard that
+separates her quarters from one of the corridors of the palace. Although
+weighted down by an archchaplain, Imma had such small feet that the
+traces left by them could not choose but keep suspicion away from
+Eginhard. Unfortunately, however, as you will discover when you arrive
+at Aix-la-Chapelle, the Emperor is possessed of a demon of curiosity,
+and has had his palace so constructed that, from a kind of terrace,
+contiguous to his own room and which dominates the rest of the
+buildings, he is able to discover as from an observatory, all who enter,
+go out, or cross the open space. Now, then, the Emperor, who frequently
+rises at night, saw, thanks to the brilliant moonlight, his daughter
+crossing the yard with the amorous fardel."
+
+"Charles' anger must have been terrible!"
+
+"Yes, terrible for an instant. Soon, however, no doubt greatly elated at
+having procreated a maid who was able to carry an archchaplain on her
+back, the august Emperor pardoned the guilty couple. After that they
+lived lovingly in peace and joy."
+
+"And yet that archchaplain was a priest? What of the sanctity of the
+clergy!"
+
+"Ho, ho! my young friend. The Emperor's daughters are far from failing
+in esteem for priests. Bertha, another of his daughters, desperately
+esteems Enghilbert, the handsome Abbot of St. Riquier. Fairness,
+nevertheless, compels me to admit that one of Bertha's sisters, named
+Adeltrude, esteemed with no less vehemence Count Lambert, one of the
+most intrepid officers of the imperial army. As to little Rothailde,
+another of the Emperor's daughters, she did not withhold her lively
+esteem from Romuald, who made his name glorious in our wars against
+Bohemia. I shall not speak of the other princesses. It is fully six
+months that I have been away from court. I would be afraid to do them
+injustice. Nevertheless, I am free to say that the Crosier and the Sword
+have generally contended with each other for the amorous tenderness of
+the daughters of Charles. Yet I must except Thetralde, the youngest of
+the set. She is still too much of a novice to esteem any one. She is
+barely fifteen. She is a flower, or rather, the bud of a flower that is
+about to blossom. I never have seen anything more charming. When I last
+departed from the court Thetralde gave promise of eclipsing all her
+sisters and nieces with the sweetness and freshness of her beauty,
+because, and I had forgotten this detail, my dear friend, the daughters
+of Charles' sons are brought up with his own daughters; and are no less
+charming than their aunts. You will see them all. Your admiration will
+have but to choose between Adelaid, Atula, Gonarade, Bertha or
+Theodora."
+
+"What! Do all these young girls inhabit the Emperor's palace?"
+
+"Certainly, without counting their servants, their governesses, their
+chambermaids, their readers, their singers and innumerable other women
+of their retinue. By Venus! My Adonis, there are more petticoats to be
+seen in the imperial palace than cuirasses or priests' gowns. The
+Emperor loves as much to be surrounded by women as by soldiers and
+abbots, without forgetting the learned men, the rhetoricians, the
+dialecticians, the instructors, the peripatetic pedagogues and the
+grammarians. The great Charles, as you must know, is as passionately
+fond of grammar as of love, war, the chase, or choir chants. In his
+grammarian's ardor, the Emperor invents words--"
+
+"What!"
+
+"Just as I am telling you. For instance: How do you call in the Gallic
+tongue the month in which we now are?"
+
+"The month of November."
+
+"So do we Italians, barbarians that we are! But the Emperor has changed
+all that by virtue of his own sovereign and grammatical will. His
+peoples, provided they can obey him without the words strangling them,
+are to say, instead of November, 'Herbismanoth'; instead of October,
+Windumnermanoth.'"
+
+"Octave, you are trying to make merry at my expense."
+
+"Instead of March, 'Lenzhimanoth'; instead of May--"
+
+"Enough! enough! for pity's sake!" cried Vortigern. "Those barbarous
+names make me shiver. What! can there be throats in existence able to
+articulate such sounds?"
+
+"My young friend, Frankish throats are capable of everything. I warn
+you, prepare your ears for the most uncouth concert of raucous,
+guttural, savage words that you ever heard, unless you have ever heard
+frogs croaking, tom-cats squalling, bulls bellowing, asses braying,
+stags belling and wolves howling--all at once! Excepting the Emperor
+himself and his family, who can somewhat handle the Roman and the Gallic
+languages, the only two languages, in short, that are human, you will
+hear nothing spoken but Frankish at that German court where everything
+is German, that is to say, barbarous; the language, the customs, the
+manners, the meals, the dress. In short, Aix-la-Chapelle is no longer
+in Gaul. It now lies in Germany absolutely."
+
+"And yet Charles reigns over Gaul!--is not that enough of a disgrace for
+my country? The Emperor who governs us by no right other than conquest,
+is surrounded with a Frankish court, and with officers and generals of
+the same stock, who do not deign even to speak our tongue. Shame and
+disgrace to us!"
+
+"There you are at it again, plunging anew into sadness. Vortigern! By
+Bacchus! Why do you not imitate my philosophy of indifference? Does,
+perchance, my race not descend from that haughty Roman stock that made
+the world to tremble only a few centuries ago? Have I not seen the
+throne of the Caesars occupied by hypocritical, ambitious, greedy and
+debauched Popes, with their black-gowned and tonsured militia? Have not
+the descendants of our haughty Roman Emperors gone in their imbecile
+idleness to vegetate in Constantinople, where they still indulge the
+dreams of Universal Empire? Have not the Catholic priests chased from
+their Olympus the charmful deities of our fathers? Have they not torn
+down, mutilated and ravished the temples, statues, altars--the
+master-works of the divine art of Rome and Greece? Go to, Vortigern, and
+follow my example! Instead of fretting over a ship-wrecked past, let's
+drink and forget! Let our fair mistresses be our Saints, and their
+couches our altars! Let our Eucharist be a flower-decked cup, and for
+liturgy, let's sing the amorous couplets of Tibullus, of Ovid, and of
+Horace. Yes, indeed, and take my advice: let's drink, love and enjoy
+life! That's truly to live! You will never again come across such an
+opportunity. The gods of joy are sending you to the Emperor's court."
+
+"What do you mean?" queried Vortigern almost mechanically, and feeling
+his inexperienced sense, though not perverted, yet dazzled by the facile
+and sensuous philosophy of Octave. "What would you have one become in
+the midst of that court so strange to me, who have been brought up in
+our rustic Brittany?"
+
+"Child that you are! A swarm of beautiful eyes will be focused upon
+you!"
+
+"Octave, you are mocking again. Am I to be taken notice of? I, a field
+laborer's son? I, a poor Breton prisoner on parole?"
+
+"And do you think your reputation for a bedevilled Breton goes for
+nothing? More than once have I heard told of the furious curiosity with
+which, about twenty-five years ago, the hostages taken to
+Aix-la-Chapelle, at the time of the first war against your country,
+inspired everyone at court. The most charming women wished to behold
+those indomitable Bretons whom only the great Charles had been able to
+vanquish. Their haughty and rude mien, the interest centred in their
+defeat, everything, down to their strange costumes, drew upon them the
+looks and the sympathy of the women, who, in Germany, are ever strongly
+prone to love. The fascinating enthusiasts of then are now become
+mothers and grandfathers. But, happily, they have daughters and
+grand-daughters who are fully able to appreciate you. I can assure you
+that I, who know the court and its ways, had I only your youth, your
+good looks, your wound, your graceful horsemanship and your renown as a
+Breton, would guarantee myself the lover of all those beauties, and that
+within a week."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE COURTYARD OF THE PALACE.
+
+
+The conversation between the young Roman and Vortigern was at this point
+interrupted by Amael, who, turning back to his grandson and extending
+his arm towards the horizon said to him:
+
+"Look yonder, my child; that is the Queen of the cities of the Empire of
+Charles the Great--the city of Aix-la-Chapelle."
+
+Vortigern hastened to join his grandfather, whose eyes he now, perhaps
+for the first time, sought to avoid with not a little embarrassment.
+Octave's words sounded wrong on his ears, even dangerous; and he
+reproached himself for having listened to them with some pleasure.
+Having reached Amael, Vortigern cast his eyes in the direction pointed
+out by the old man, and saw at still a great distance an imposing mass
+of buildings, close to which rose the high steeple of a basilica.
+Presently, he distinguished the roofs and terraces of a cluster of
+houses dimly visible through the evening mist and stretching out along
+the horizon. It was the Emperor's palace and the basilica of
+Aix-la-Chapelle. Vortigern contemplated with curiosity the, to him, new
+panorama, while Hildebrad, who had cantered ahead to make some inquiries
+from a cartman coming from the city, now returned to the Bretons,
+saying:
+
+"The Emperor is hourly expected at the palace. The forerunners have
+announced his approach. He is coming from a journey in the north of
+Gaul. Let's hasten to ride in ahead of him so that we may salute him on
+his arrival."
+
+The riders quickened their horses' steps, and before sunset they were
+entering the outer court of the palace--a vast space surrounded by many
+lodges of variously shaped roofs and architecture, and furnished with
+innumerable windows. Agreeable to a unique plan, with many of these
+structures the ground floor was wholly open and had the appearance of a
+shed whose massive stone pillars supported the masonry of the upper
+tiers of floors. A crowd of subaltern officers, of servants, and slaves
+of the palace, lived and lodged under these sheds, open to the four
+winds of heaven and heated in winter by means of large furnaces that
+were kept lighted night and day. This bizarre architecture was conceived
+by the ingenuity of the Emperor. It enabled him, from his observatory,
+to see with all the greater ease all that happened in these wall-less
+apartments. Several long corridors, profusely ornamented with richly
+sculptured columns and porticos after the fashion of Rome, connected
+with another set of buildings. A square pavilion, raised considerably
+above ground, dominated the system of structures. Octave called
+Vortigern's attention to a sort of balcony located in front of the
+pavilion. It was the Emperor's observatory. Everywhere a general stir
+announced the approaching arrival of Charles. Clerks, soldiers, women,
+officers, rhetoricians, monks and slaves crossed one another in great
+haste, while several bishops, anxious to present the first homages to
+the Emperor, were speeding towards the peristyle of the palace. So
+instantly was the Emperor expected and such was the hurly at the event,
+that when the cavalcade, of which Vortigern and his grandfather were a
+part, entered the court, several people, deceived by the martial
+appearance of the troupe, began to cry: "The Emperor!" "Here is the
+Emperor's escort!" The cry flew from mouth to mouth, and in an instant
+the spacious court was filled with a compact mass of servitors and
+pursuivants, through which the escort of the two Bretons was hardly able
+to break its way in order to reach a place near the principal portico.
+Hildebrad had chosen the spot in order to be among the first to meet
+Charles and to present to him the hostages whom he brought from
+Brittany. The crowd discovered its mistake in acclaiming the Emperor,
+but the false rumor had penetrated the palace and immediately the
+concubines of Charles, his daughters and grand-daughters, their servants
+and attendants, rushed out and grouped themselves on a spacious terrace
+above the portico, near which the two Bretons, together with their
+escort, had taken their stand.
+
+"Raise your eyes, Vortigern," Octave said to his companion. "Look and
+see what a bevy of beauties the Emperor's palace contains."
+
+Blushing, the young Breton glanced towards the terrace and remained
+struck with astonishment at the sight of some twenty-five or thirty
+women, all of whom were either daughters or grand-daughters of Charles,
+together with his concubines. They were clad in the Frankish fashion,
+and presented the most seductive variety of faces, color of hair, shapes
+and beauty imaginable. There were among them brunettes and blondes,
+women of reddish and of auburn hair, some tall, others stout, and yet
+others thin and slender. It was a complete display of Germanic feminine
+types--from the tender maid up to the stately matron of forty years. The
+eyes of Vortigern fell with preference upon a girl of not more than
+fifteen, clad in a tunic of pale green embroidered with silver. Nothing
+sweeter could be imagined than her rosy and fresh face crowned and set
+off by long and thick strands of blonde hair; her delicate neck, white
+as a swan's, seemed to undulate under the weight of her magnificent head
+of hair. Another maid of about twenty years--a pronounced brunette,
+robust, with challenging eyes, black hair, and clad in a tunic of
+orange--leaned on the balustrade, supporting her chin in one hand, close
+to the younger blonde, on whose shoulders she familiarly rested her
+right arm. Each held in her hand a nose-gay of rosemary, whose fragrance
+they inhaled from time to time, all the while conversing in a low voice
+and contemplating the group of riders with increasing curiosity. They
+had learned that the escort was not the Emperor's, but that it brought
+the Breton hostages.
+
+"Give thanks to my friendship, Vortigern," Octave whispered to the lad.
+"I am going to place you in evidence, and to display you at your true
+worth." Saying this, Octave covertly gave Vortigern's horse such a sharp
+touch of his whip under the animal's belly that, had the Breton been
+less of a horseman, he had been thrown by the violence of the bound made
+by his mount. Thus unexpectedly stung, the animal reared, poised himself
+dangerously for a moment and then leaped so high that Vortigern's coif
+grazed the bottom of the terrace where the group of women stood. The
+blonde young girl grew pale with terror, and hiding her face in her
+hands, exclaimed: "Unhappy lad! He is killed! Poor young man!"
+
+Yielding to the impulse of his age as well as to a sense of pride at
+finding himself the object of the attention of the crowd that was
+gathered around him, Vortigern severely chastised his horse, whose leaps
+and bounds threatened to become dangerous. But the lad, preserving his
+presence of mind and drawing upon his skill, displayed so much grace and
+vigor in the struggle, despite his right arm's being held in the scarf,
+that the crowd wildly clapped its hands and cried: "Glory to the
+Breton!" "Honor to the Breton!" Two bouquets of rosemary fell, at that
+moment, at the feet of the horse that, brought at last under control,
+champed his bit and pawed the ground with his hoofs. Vortigern raised
+his head towards the terrace whence the bouquets had just been thrown at
+him, when a formidable din arose from a distance, followed immediately
+by the cry, echoed and re-echoed: "The Emperor!" "The Emperor!"
+
+At the announcement, all the women forthwith left the balcony to descend
+and receive the monarch under the portico of the palace.
+
+While the crowd swayed back and forward, crying: "Long live Charles!"
+"Long live Charles the Great!" the grandson of Amael saw a troop of
+riders approaching at a gallop. They might have been taken for
+equestrian statues of iron. Mounted upon chargers caparisoned in iron,
+their own iron casques hid their faces; cuirassed in iron and gloved in
+iron, they wore leggings of iron, and bucklers of the same metal. The
+last rays of the westering sun shone from the points of their iron
+lances. In short, nothing was heard but the clash of iron. At the head
+of these cavaliers, whom he preceded, and, like them, cased in iron from
+head to foot, rode a man of colossal stature. Hardly arrived before the
+principal portico, he alighted slowly from his horse and ran limping
+towards the group of women who there awaited him, calling out to them,
+as he ran, in a little shrill and squeaky voice that contrasted
+strangely with his enormous build:
+
+"Good-day, little ones. Good-day, dear daughters. Good-day to all of
+you, my darlings." Without giving any heed to the cheers of the crowd
+and to the respectful salutations of the bishops and other dignitaries,
+who hurried to meet him, the Emperor Charles, that giant in iron,
+disappeared within the palace, followed by his feminine cohort.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+IN THE GALLERIES OF THE PALACE.
+
+
+Amael and his grandson were lodged in one of the upper chambers of the
+palace, whither they were conducted by Hildebrad to rest after the
+fatigue of their recent journey. Supper was served to them and they were
+left to retire for the night.
+
+At break of day the next morning, Octave knocked at the door of the two
+Bretons and informed them that the Emperor wished to see them. The Roman
+urged Vortigern to clothe himself at his best. The Breton lad had not
+much to choose from. He had with him only two suits of clothes, the one
+he wore on the journey, another, green of color and embroidered with
+orange wool. This notwithstanding, thanks to the fresh and new clothes,
+in which the colors were harmoniously blended and which enhanced the
+attractiveness of the charming face as well as the gracefulness of his
+supple stature, Vortigern seemed to the critical eyes of Octave worthy
+of making an honorable appearance before the mightiest Emperor in the
+world. The centenarian could not restrain a smile at hearing the praises
+bestowed upon the figure of his grandson by the young Roman, who advised
+him to draw tighter the belt of his sword, claiming that, if one's
+figure is good, it was but right to exhibit it. While giving his
+advices to Vortigern in his wonted good humor, Octave whispered in his
+friend's ear:
+
+"Did you notice yesterday the nose-gays that fell at the feet of your
+horse? Did you notice who the girls were from whom the bouquets came?"
+
+"I think I did," stammered the young Breton in answer, and he blushed to
+the roots of his hair, while despite himself, his thoughts flew to the
+charming young blonde. "It seems to me," he added, "that I saw the two
+bouquets fall."
+
+"Oh, it seems to you, hypocrite! Nevertheless, it was my whip that
+brought down the two bouquets! And do you know what imperial hands it
+was that threw them down in homage to your address and courage?"
+
+"Were the bouquets thrown down by imperial hands?"
+
+"Yes, indeed, seeing that Thetralde, the timid blonde child and
+Hildrude, the tall and bold brunette, are both daughters of Charles. One
+of them was dressed in a green robe of the color of your blouse, the
+other in orange of the color of your embroidery. By Venus! Are you not a
+favored mortal? Two conquests at one clap!"
+
+Engaged at the other end of the chamber, Amael did not overhear the
+words of Octave that were turning Vortigern's face as scarlet as the
+color of his chaperon's cloak. The preparations for the presentation
+being concluded, the two hostages followed their guide to appear before
+the Emperor. After crossing an infinite number of passages and mounting
+and descending an equal number of stairs, in all of which they
+encountered more women than men, the number of women lodged in the
+Imperial Palace being prodigious, the Bretons were led through vast
+halls. To describe the sumptuous magnificence of these galleries would
+be no less impossible than to enumerate the pictures with which their
+halls were ornamented. Artisans, brought from Constantinople, where, at
+the time, the school of Byzantine painting flourished, had covered the
+walls with gigantic designs. In one place the conquests of Cyrus over
+the Persians were displayed; at another, the atrocities of the tyrant
+Phalaris, witnessing the agonies of his victims, who were led to be
+burned alive in a brass caldron red with heat; at still another place,
+the founding of Rome by Romulus and Remus was reproduced; the conquests
+of Alexander and Hannibal, and many other heroic subjects. One of the
+galleries of the palace was consecrated wholly to the battles of Charles
+Martel. He was seen triumphing over Saxons and Arabs, who, chained at
+his feet, implored his clemency. So striking was the resemblance that
+while crossing the hall Amael cried out:
+
+"It is he! Those are his features! That was his bearing! He lives again!
+It is Charles!"
+
+"One would think you recognize an old acquaintance," observed the young
+Roman, smiling. "Are you renewing your acquaintance with Charles
+Martel?"
+
+"Octave," answered the old man melancholically, "I am one hundred years
+old--I fought at the battle of Poitiers against the Arabs."
+
+"Among the troops of Charles Martel?"
+
+"I saved his life," answered Amael, contemplating the gigantic picture;
+and speaking to himself, he proceeded with a sigh: "Oh, how many
+recollections, sweet and sad, do not those days bring back to me! My
+beloved mother, my sweet Septimine!"
+
+Octave regarded the old man with increasing astonishment, but, suddenly
+collecting himself, he grew pensive and hastened his steps, followed by
+the two hostages. Dazzled by the sights before him Vortigern examined
+with the curiosity of his age the riches of all kinds that were heaped
+up all around him. He could not refrain from stopping before two objects
+that attracted his attention above all others. The first was a piece of
+furniture of precious wood enriched with gilt mouldings. Pipes of
+copper, brass and tin, of different thicknesses rose above each other in
+tiers on one side of the wooden structure. "Octave," asked the young
+Breton, "what kind of furniture is this?"
+
+"It is a Greek organ that was recently sent to Charles by the Emperor of
+Constantinople. The instrument is truly marvelous. With the aid of brass
+vessels and of bellows made of ox-hides, which are concealed from view,
+the air enters these tubes, and, when they are played upon, one time you
+think you hear the rumbling of thunder, another time, the gentle notes
+of the lyre or of cymbals. But look yonder, near that large table of
+massive gold where the city of Constantinople is drawn in relief, there
+you see no less ingenious an object. It is a Persian clock, sent to the
+Emperor only four years ago by Abdhallah, the King of Persia." Saying
+this, Octave pointed out to the young Breton and his grandfather, who
+became no less interested than Vortigern himself, a large time-piece of
+gilt bronze. Figures denoting the twelve hours surrounded the dial,
+which was placed in the centre of a miniature palace made of bronze, and
+likewise gilt. Twelve gates built in arcades were seen at the foot of
+the monumental imitation. "When the hour strikes," Octave explained to
+the Bretons, "a certain number of brass balls, equal in number to the
+hour, drop upon a little cymbal. At the same moment, these gates fly
+open, as many of them as the corresponding hour, and out of each a
+cavalier, armed with lance and shield, rides forth. If it strikes one,
+two or three o'clock, one, two or three gates open, the cavaliers ride
+out, salute with their lances, return within, and the gates close upon
+them."
+
+"This is truly a marvelous contrivance!" exclaimed Amael. "And are the
+names of the men known who fashioned these prodigies around us, these
+magnificent paintings, that gold table where a whole city is reproduced
+in relief, this organ, this clock, in short, all these marvels! Surely
+their authors must have been glorified!"
+
+"By Bacchus, Amael, your question is droll," answered Octave smiling.
+"Who cares for the names of the obscure slaves who have produced these
+articles?"
+
+"But the names of Clovis, of Brunhild, of Clotaire, of Charles Martel
+will survive the ages!" murmured the centenarian bitterly to himself,
+while the young Roman remarked to Vortigern:
+
+"Let us hurry; the Emperor is waiting for us. It will take whole days,
+months and years to admire in detail the treasures that this palace is
+full of. It is the favorite resort of the Emperor. And yet, as much as
+his residence at Aix-la-Chapelle, he loves his old castle of Heristal,
+the cradle of his mighty stock of mayors of the palace, where he has
+heaped miracles of art."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+CHARLEMAGNE.
+
+
+Following their guide, the two hostages left the sumptuous and vast
+galleries, and ascended, closely behind Octave, a spiral staircase that
+led to the private apartment of the Emperor, the apartment around which
+wound the balcony that served as observatory to Charles. Two richly
+dressed chamberlains stood in the outer vestibule. "Stay for me here,"
+Octave said to the Bretons; "I shall notify the Emperor that you await
+his pleasure, and learn whether he wishes to receive you at this
+moment."
+
+Despite his race and family hatred for the Frankish Kings or Emperors,
+the conquerors and oppressors of Gaul, Vortigern experienced a thrill of
+emotion at the thought of finding himself face to face with the mighty
+Charles, the sovereign of almost all Europe. This first emotion was
+speedily joined by a second--that mighty Emperor was the father of
+Thetralde, the entrancing maid, who, the evening before, had thrown her
+bouquet to the youth. Vortigern's thoughts never a moment fell upon the
+brunette Hildrude. An instant later Octave reappeared and beckoned to
+Amael and his grandson to step in, while in an undertone he warned them:
+"Crook your knees low before the Emperor; it is the custom."
+
+The centenarian cast a look at Vortigern with a negative sign of the
+head. The youth understood, and the Bretons stepped into the bed-chamber
+of Charles, whom they found in the company of his favorite Eginhard, the
+archchaplain whom Imma had one night bravely carried on her back. A
+servitor of the imperial chamber awaited the orders of his master.
+
+When the two hostages entered the room, the monarch, whose stature,
+though now unarmed, preserved its colossal dimensions, was seated on the
+edge of his couch clad only in a shirt and hose that set off the
+pre-eminence of his paunch. He had just put on one shoe and held the
+other in his hand. His hair was almost white, his eyes were large and
+sparkling, his nose was long, his neck short and thick like a bull's.
+His physiognomy, of an open cast and instinct with joviality, recalled
+the features of his grandfather, Charles Martel. At the sight of the two
+Bretons the Emperor rose from the edge of the couch, and keeping his one
+shoe in his hand, took two steps forward, limping on his left foot. As
+he thus approached Amael he seemed a prey to a concealed emotion
+somewhat mingled with a lively curiosity.
+
+"Old man!" cried out Charles in his shrill voice that contrasted so
+singularly with his giant stature, "Octave tells me you fought under
+Charles Martel, my grandfather, nearly eighty years ago, and that you
+saved his life at the battle of Poitiers."
+
+"It is true," and carrying his hand to his forehead where the traces of
+a deep wound were still visible, the aged Breton added: "I received this
+wound at the battle of Poitiers."
+
+The Emperor sat down again on the edge of his bed, put on the other shoe
+and said to his archchaplain: "Eginhard, you who compiled in your
+chronicle the history and acts of my grandfather, you whose memory is
+ever faithful, do you remember ever to have heard told what the old man
+says?"
+
+Eginhard remained thoughtful for a moment, and then answered slowly: "I
+remember to have read in some parchment scrolls, inscribed by the hand
+of the glorious Charles and now preserved in your august archives, that,
+indeed, at the battle of Poitiers"--but interrupting himself and turning
+to the centenarian he asked: "Your name? How are you called?"
+
+"Amael is my name."
+
+The archchaplain reflected for a moment, and shaking his head observed:
+"While I can not now recall it, that was not the name of the warrior who
+saved the life of Charles Martel at the battle of Poitiers--it was a
+Frankish name, it is not the name which you mentioned."
+
+"That name," rejoined the aged Amael, "was Berthoald."
+
+"Yes!" put in Eginhard quickly. "That is the name--Berthoald. And in a
+few lines written in his own hand, the glorious Charles Martel commended
+the said Berthoald to his children; he wrote that he owed him his life
+and recommended him to their gratitude if he ever should turn to them."
+
+During the exchange of these words between the aged Breton and the
+archchaplain, the Emperor had continued and finished his toilet with the
+aid of his servitor of the chamber. His costume, the old Frankish
+costume to which Charles remained faithful, consisted in the first place
+of a pair of leggings made of thick linen material closely fastened to
+the nether limbs by means of red wool bandelets that wound criss-cross
+from below upwards; next of a tunic of Frisian cloth, sapphire-blue, and
+held together by a silk belt. In the winter and the fall of the year the
+Emperor also wore over his shoulders a heavy and large otter or
+lamb-skin coat. Thus clad, Charles sat down in a large armchair placed
+near a curtain that was meant to conceal one of the doors that opened
+upon the balcony which served him for observatory. At a sign from
+Charles the servitor stepped out of the chamber. Left alone with
+Eginhard, Vortigern, Amael and Octave, Charles said to the elder Breton:
+"Old man, if I understood my chaplain correctly, a Frank named Berthoald
+saved my grandfather's life. How does it happen that the said Berthoald
+and you are the same personage?"
+
+"When fifteen years of age, driven by the spirit of adventure, I ran
+away from my family of the Gallic race, and then located in Burgundy.
+After many untoward events, I joined a band of determined men. I then
+was twenty years of age. I took a Frankish name and claimed to be of
+that race in order to secure the protection of Charles Martel.[B] To the
+end of interesting him all the more in my lot I offered him my own sword
+and the swords of all my men, just a few days before the battle of
+Poitiers. At that battle I saved his life. After that, loaded with his
+favors, I fought under his orders five years longer."
+
+"And what happened then?"
+
+"Then--ashamed of my imposition, and still more ashamed of fighting on
+the side of the Franks, I left Charles Martel to return into Brittany,
+the cradle of my family. There I became a field laborer."
+
+"By the cape of St. Martin, you then turned rebel!" exclaimed the
+Emperor in his squeaky voice, which then assumed the tone of a
+penetrating treble. "I now see the wisdom of those who chose you for an
+hostage, you, the instigator and the soul of the uprisings and even wars
+that broke out in Brittany during the reign of Pepin, my father, and
+even under my own reign, when your devil-possessed countrymen decimated
+my veteran bands!"
+
+"I fought as well as I could in our wars."
+
+"Traitor! Loaded with favors by my grandfather, yet were you not afraid
+to rise in arms against his son and me?"
+
+"I felt remorse for only one thing--and that was to have merited the
+favor of your grandfather. I shall ever reproach myself for having
+fought on his side instead of against him."
+
+"Old man," cried the Emperor, purple with rage, "you have even more
+audacity than years!"
+
+"Charles--let us stop here. You look upon yourself as the sovereign of
+Gaul. We Bretons do not recognize your claims. These claims you hold,
+like all other conquerors, from force. To you might means right--"
+
+"I hold them from God!" again cried the Emperor, this time stamping the
+floor with his foot and breaking in upon Amael. "Yes! I hold my rights
+over Gaul from God, and from my good sword."
+
+"From your sword, from violence, yes, indeed. From God, not at all. God
+does not consecrate theft, whether a purse or an empire be involved.
+Clovis captured Gaul. Your father and grandfather plundered of his crown
+the last scion of that Clovis. Little does that matter to us, Bretons,
+who refuse to obey either the stock of Clovis or that of Charles Martel.
+You dispose over an innumerable army; already have you ravished and
+vanquished Brittany. You may ravage and vanquish her over again--but
+subjugate her, never. And now, Charles, I have spoken. You shall hear
+not another word from me on that subject. I am your prisoner, your
+hostage. Dispose of me."
+
+The Emperor, who more than once was on the point of allowing his
+indignation to break loose, turned to Eginhard and, after a moment of
+silence, said to him in a calm voice: "You, who are engaged in writing
+the history and deeds of Charles, the august Emperor of Gaul, Caesar of
+Germany, Patrician of Rome, Protector of the Suevians, the Bulgarians
+and the Hungarians, I command you to write down that an old man held to
+Charles a language of unheard-of audacity, and that Charles could not
+prevent himself from esteeming the frankness and the courage of the man
+who had thus spoken to him." And suddenly changing his tone, the
+Emperor, whose features, for a moment stern in anger, now assumed an
+expression of joviality shaded with shrewdness, said to Amael: "So,
+then, Breton seigneurs of Armorica, whatever I may do, you want none of
+me at any price for your Emperor. Do you so much as know me?"
+
+"Charles, we know you in Brittany by the unjust wars that your father
+and yourself have waged against us."
+
+"So that, to you, gentlemen of Armorica, Charles is only a man of
+conquest, of violence, and of battle?"
+
+"Yes, you reign only through terror."
+
+"Well, then, follow me. I may perhaps cause you to change your mind,"
+said the Emperor after a moment's reflection. He rose, took his cane and
+put on his cap. His eyes then fell upon Vortigern, whom, standing
+silently at a distance, he had not noticed before. "Who is that young
+and handsome lad?" he asked.
+
+"My grandson."
+
+"Octave," the Emperor remarked, turning to the young Roman, "this is
+rather a young hostage."
+
+"August Prince, this lad was chosen for several reasons. His sister
+married Morvan, a common field laborer, but one of the most intrepid of
+the Breton chieftains. During this last war he commanded the cavalry."
+
+"And why, then, was not that Morvan brought here? That would have been
+an excellent hostage."
+
+"August Prince, in order to bring him we would have first had to catch
+him. Although severely wounded, Morvan, thanks to his heroine of a wife,
+succeeded in making his escape with her. It has been impossible to reach
+them in the inaccessible mountains whither they both fled. For that
+reason two other chiefs and influential men of the tribe were chosen for
+hostages; we left them on the road on account of their wounds, and
+proceeded only with this old man, who was the soul of the last wars, and
+also this youth, who, through his family connections, is related to one
+of the most dangerous chieftains of Armorica. I must admit that in
+taking him, we yielded also to the prayers of his mother. She was very
+anxious that he should accompany his grandfather on this long journey,
+which is very trying to a centenarian."
+
+"And you," resumed the Emperor, addressing Vortigern, whom, during the
+account given by Octave, he had been examining with attention and
+interest, "no doubt also hate inveterately that Charles, the conqueror
+and devastator?"
+
+"The Emperor Charles has white hair; I am only eighteen years old,"
+retorted the young Breton, blushing. "I can not answer."
+
+"Old man," observed Charles, visibly affected by the lad's
+self-respecting yet becoming modesty, "the mother of your grandson must
+be a happy woman. But coming to think of it, my lad, was it not you who
+yesterday evening, shortly before my arrival, came near breaking your
+neck with a fall from your horse?"
+
+"I!" cried Vortigern, blushing with pride; "I, fall from my horse! Who
+dared to say so!"
+
+"Oh! Oh! my lad. You are red up to your ears," the Emperor exclaimed,
+laughing aloud. "But, never mind. Be tranquil. I do not mean to wound
+your pride of horsemanship. Far from it. Before I saw you to-day my ears
+have rung with the interminable praises of your gracefulness and daring
+on horseback. My dear daughters, especially little Thetralde and the
+tall Hildrude, told me at least ten times at supper that they had seen a
+savage young Breton, although wounded in one arm, manage his horse like
+the most skilful of my equerries."
+
+"If I deserve any praise, it must be addressed to my grandfather,"
+modestly answered Vortigern. "It was he who taught me to ride on
+horseback."
+
+"I like that answer, my lad. It shows your modesty and a proper respect
+for your elders. Are you lettered? Can you read and write?"
+
+"Yes, thanks to the instruction of my mother."
+
+"Can you sing mass in the choir?"
+
+"I!" cried Vortigern in great astonishment. "I sing mass! No, no, by
+Hesus! We do not sing mass in my country."
+
+"There they are, the Breton pagans!" exclaimed Charles. "Oh, my bishops
+are right, they are a devil-possessed people, those folks of Armorica.
+What a pity that so handsome and so modest a lad should not be able to
+sing mass in the choir." Saying this, the Emperor pulled his thick cap
+close over his head and leaning heavily on his cane, said to the aged
+Breton: "Come, follow me, seigneur Breton. Ah, you only know of Charles
+the Fighter; I shall now make you acquainted with another Charles whom
+you do not yet know. Come, follow me." Limping, and leaning on his cane,
+the Emperor moved towards the door, making a sign to the others to
+follow; but stopping short at the threshold, he turned to Octave: "You,
+go to Hugh, my Master of the Hounds, and notify him that I shall hunt
+deer in the forest of Oppenheim. Let him send there the hounds, horses
+and all other equipments of the chase."
+
+"August Prince, your orders will be executed."
+
+"You will also say to the Grand Nomenclator of my table that I may take
+dinner in the pavilion of the forest, especially if the hunt lasts long.
+My suite will dine there also. Let the repast be sumptuous. You will
+tell the Nomenclator that my taste has not changed. A good large joint
+of roast venison, served piping hot, is now, as ever, my favorite
+treat."
+
+The young Roman again bowed low; Charles stepped out first from the
+chamber. He was followed by Eginhard, then by Amael. As Vortigern was
+about to follow his grandfather, he was retained for an instant by
+Octave, who, approaching his mouth to the lad's ear, whispered to him:
+
+"I shall carry to the apartments of the Emperor's daughters the news
+that he intends to hunt to-day. By Venus! The mother of love has you
+under her protecting wings, my young Breton."
+
+The lad blushed anew, and was about to answer the Roman when he heard
+Amael's voice calling out to him: "Come, my child, the Emperor wishes to
+lean on your arm in order to descend the stairs and walk through the
+palace."
+
+More and more disturbed in mind, Vortigern stepped towards Charles as
+the latter was saying to the chamberlains: "No, nobody is to accompany
+me except the two Bretons and Eginhard;" and nodding to the lad he
+proceeded: "Your arm will be a better support to me than my cane; these
+stairs are steep; step carefully."
+
+Supported by Vortigern's arm the Emperor slowly descended the steps of a
+staircase that ran out at one of the porticos of an interior courtyard.
+When the bottom was reached Charles dropped the young man's arm, and
+resuming his cane, said: "You stepped cleverly; you are a good guide.
+What a pity that you do not know how to sing mass in the choir!" While
+thus chattering, Charles followed a gallery that ran along the
+courtyard. The men who accompanied him marched a few steps behind.
+Presently the Emperor noticed a slave crossing the courtyard with a
+large hamper on his shoulders. "Halloa! You, there, with the basket!"
+the Emperor called out in his piercing voice. "You, there, with the
+basket! Come here! What have you in that basket?"
+
+"Eggs, seigneur."
+
+"Where are you taking them to?"
+
+"To the kitchen of the august Emperor."
+
+"Where do those eggs come from?"
+
+"From the Muhlsheim farm, seigneur."
+
+"From the Muhlsheim farm?" the Emperor repeated thoughtfully, and almost
+immediately added: "There must be three hundred and twenty-five eggs in
+that basket. Are there not?"
+
+"Yes, seigneur; that's the exact rent brought in every month from the
+farm."
+
+"You can go--and be careful you do not break the eggs." The Emperor
+stopped for a moment, leaned heavily upon his cane, and turning to
+Amael, called out to him: "Halloa, seigneur Breton, come here, draw
+near me." Amael obeyed, and the Emperor resuming his walk proceeded to
+say: "Charles the Fighter, the conqueror, is at least a good
+husbander--does it not strike you that way? He knows to an egg how many
+are laid by the hens on his farms. If you ever return to Brittany, you
+must not fail to narrate the incident to the housekeepers of your
+country."
+
+"If I ever again see my country, I shall tell the truth of what I have
+seen."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE PALATINE SCHOOL.
+
+
+Thus chatting, the Emperor Charles the Great arrived before a door that
+opened on the gallery. He knocked with his cane, and a clerk dressed in
+black opened. Struck with surprise, the clerk bent the knee and cried:
+"The Emperor!" And as he seemed to be about to rush to the door of a
+contiguous hall, the Emperor ordered him to stop:
+
+"Do not budge! Master Clement is giving his lessons, is he?"
+
+"Yes, my august Prince!"
+
+"Remain where you are," and addressing Amael: "Seigneur Breton, you
+shall now visit a school that I have founded. It is under the direction
+of Master Clement, a famous teacher, whom I have summoned from Scotland.
+The sons of the principal seigneurs of my court come here, in obedience
+to my orders, to study at this school, together with the poorest of my
+attendants."
+
+"This is well done, Charles--I congratulate you on that!"
+
+"And yet it is Charles the Fighter that has done this good thing--let us
+go in;" and turning to Vortigern: "Well, my young man, you who cannot
+sing mass, open your eyes and ears at their widest; you are about to see
+pupils of your own age, and of all conditions."
+
+The Palatine school, directed by the Scotchman Clement, into whose
+precincts the two Bretons followed the Emperor, held about two hundred
+pupils. All rose at their benches at the sight of Charles, but he
+motioned to them to resume their seats, saying:
+
+"Be seated, my boys; I prefer to see you with your noses in your books,
+than in air, under the pretext of respect for me." And seeing that
+Master Clement, the director of the school, was himself about to descend
+from his high desk, Charles cried out to him: "Remain on your throne of
+knowledge, my worthy master; here I am only one of your subjects. I only
+wanted to cast a glance over the work of these boys, and to learn from
+you whether they have made any progress during my absence. Let the boys
+come forward, one by one, with the copy-books in which to-day's work is
+being done."
+
+The Emperor prided himself not a little on his literacy. He sat down on
+a stool near the chair of Master Clement, and carefully examined the
+copy-books brought to him. It appeared that the pupils who were the sons
+of noble or rich parents, exhibited to the Emperor mediocre, or even
+poor work, while, on the other hand, the poorer pupils, or those whose
+parents were of lower rank, exhibited such excellent work that Charles,
+turning to Amael, said: "If you were as proficient in letters as myself,
+seigneur Breton, you would be able to appreciate, as I do, these
+manuscripts that I have just been looking over. The sweetest flavor of
+science is exhaled by these writings." Thereupon addressing the scholars
+who had distinguished themselves, the Emperor said impressively: "I give
+you great praise, my children, for the zeal you display in carrying out
+my wishes; strive after perfection, and I shall endow you with rich
+bishoprics and magnificent abbeys." The Emperor stopped and turned
+towards the lazy noblemen's sons and the sons of the idle rich; his brow
+puckered, and casting upon them an angry look, he cried out: "As to you,
+the sons of my Empire's principal men, as to you, dainty and prim lads,
+who, resting upon your birth and fortune, have neglected my orders and
+your studies, preferring play and idleness--as to you," the Emperor
+proceeded in a voice of ever heightening anger, and smiting the table
+with his cane, "as to you, look for admiration from other quarters than
+mine. I care nothing for your birth and your fortune! Listen to my words
+and keep them firm in your minds: if you do not hasten to make amends
+for your negligence by constant application, you will never receive
+aught from me!"
+
+The rich idlers dropped their eyes all of a tremble. The Emperor rose
+and said to a young clerk, named Bernard, barely twenty years of age,
+the excellence of whose work had attracted Charles' attention: "And you,
+my lad, you may now follow me. I appoint you from to-day a clerk in my
+chapel, nor will the evidence of my protection end there."
+
+The Emperor looked satisfied with himself. With a complaisant air he
+turned to Amael: "Well now, seigneur Breton, you have seen Charles the
+Fighter, emulating in his humble capacity of man, the acts of our Lord
+God when on earth. He separates the wheat from the chaff, he places the
+just at his right, the wicked at his left. If you ever return to
+Brittany, you will tell the school-masters of your country that Charles
+is not altogether a bad superintendent of the schools that he has
+founded."
+
+"I shall say, Charles, that I saw you officiating in the midst of the
+pupils with wisdom, justice, and kindness."
+
+"I wish letters and science to shed splendor upon my reign. Were you
+less of a barbarian, I would have you assist at a sitting of our
+academy. We there assume the illustrious names of antiquity. Eginhard is
+called 'Homer,' Clement 'Horace,' and I 'King David.' These immortal
+names fit us as giants' armors do pigmies. But, at least, we do honor,
+at our best, to those geniuses. Now, however," said the Emperor, rising
+and breaking off the thread of his discourse on his academy, "let us,
+like good Catholics, proceed to church, and hear mass upon our knees."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE BISHOP OF LIMBURG.
+
+
+Preceding his suite, that consisted of Eginhard, Amael, Vortigern and
+the newly-created clerk Bernard, the Emperor left the school-room and
+hobbled his way along a winding gallery. Encountering at one of the
+sharp and rather dark turns a young and handsome female slave, Charles
+addressed her with the same familiarity that he ever used towards the
+innumerable women of all conditions that stocked the palace. The Emperor
+chucked her under the chin, put his arm around her waist, and was about
+to carry his libertine freedom even further when, recollecting that,
+despite the darkness of the spot, he might be seen by the men in his
+suite, he motioned to the female slave that she withdraw, and laughing,
+observed to Amael: "Charles likes to show himself accessible to his
+subjects."
+
+"And above all to the female ones," retorted the aged Breton. "But I
+know that the priest's holy-water sprinkler will readily absolve you of
+all your sins."
+
+"Oh, the pagan of a Breton; the pagan of a Breton!" murmured the Emperor
+as he hobbled along and presently entered the basilica of
+Aix-la-Chapelle, contiguous to the palace.
+
+Vortigern and his grandfather were both dazzled by the indescribable
+magnificence of the temple, where all the attendants at the imperial
+palace were now gathered. At a distance Vortigern discerned, seated near
+the choir and among the numerous concubines of Charles, the Emperor's
+daughters and grand-daughters, clad in brilliant apparel, with the
+blonde and charming Thetralde close to her sister Hildrude. The Emperor
+took his accustomed seat at the chanter's desk among the sumptuously
+dressed choristers. One of these respectfully offered the Emperor an
+ebony baton, with which he beat time and gave the signal for the several
+chants in the liturgy. A little before the end of each stanza Charles,
+by way of signal, would raise his shrill voice and emit a gutteral cry,
+so strange and weird, that, on one of these occasions, Vortigern, whose
+eyes had accidentally encountered the large blue eyes of Thetralde
+obstinately fixed upon him, could hardly keep from laughing outright. So
+ridiculous was the figure cut by the Emperor, that despite the imposing
+appearance of the ceremony and despite the embarrassment into which the
+glances of Thetralde threw him, the youth's sense of decorum was
+severely taxed.
+
+The mass being over, Charles said to Amael: "Well, now, seigneur Breton,
+admit that, at a pinch, however much of a fighter I may be, I would make
+a passable clerk and a good chaunter."
+
+"I am not skilled in such matters. Yet I am free to tell you that, as a
+singer, the cries you uttered were frequently more discordant than those
+of the sea-gulls along our Brittany beach. Moreover, to me it looks as
+if the head of an Empire should have better things to do than to sing
+mass."
+
+"You will ever remain a barbarian and an idolater," cried the Emperor,
+stepping out of the basilica. At that moment, and still under the
+portico of the monumental building, a dignitary of the court pushed
+himself forward and bowing low, said to Charles:
+
+"August Prince, magnanimous Emperor, tidings have just been received of
+the death of the Bishop of Limburg."
+
+"Oh! Oh! Only now? That surprises me greatly. People are so hot after
+the quarry of bishoprics that the death of a bishop is always announced
+two or three days in advance. Did the deceased bishop die in the odor of
+sanctity? Did he commend himself to the next world by the founding of
+pious establishments, or by rich bequests to the poor?"
+
+"August Prince, it is said that he bequeathed only two pounds of silver
+to the poor."
+
+"How light a viaticum for so long a journey!" exclaimed a voice. It
+proceeded from Bernard, the poor and learned pupil whom Charles had just
+appointed clerk of his own chapel, and who, agreeable to the orders of
+the Emperor, had kept close to his master since they left the Palatine
+school.
+
+Charles turned abruptly towards the young man, who, crimson with
+confusion, already regretted the boldness of his language and was
+trembling at every limb. "Follow me!" said Charles with severity; and
+observing that other dignitaries of the court took the call as if
+addressed to themselves, he added: "No, only the two Bretons, Eginhard
+and the young clerk. The rest of you may keep yourselves in readiness
+for the hunt that we shall start upon in a few minutes."
+
+The brilliant crowd kept itself aloof, and the Emperor regained the
+gallery of the palace accompanied only by Vortigern, Amael, Eginhard and
+the poor Bernard, the last more dead than alive. The clerk walked last,
+fearing that he had angered the Emperor by his stinging sally on the
+niggardliness of the deceased bishop. The surprise of the young clerk
+was, accordingly, great when, arrived at the extremity of the gallery,
+Charles half turned to him, and with beaming eyes, said:
+
+"Draw near, draw near! Do you really think the Bishop of Limburg left
+too little money for the poor?"
+
+"Seigneur, pardon my inadvertent boldness!"
+
+"Answer. If I bestow that bishopric upon you, would you, the day you
+appear before God, have a better record for liberality than the Bishop
+of Limburg?"
+
+"August Prince," answered the clerk, his head swimming at the thought of
+such unheard-of good fortune, and dropping on his knees: "It rests with
+God and your will to decide my fate."
+
+"Arise. I appoint you Bishop of Limburg. But follow me. It will be well
+for you to learn, from personal observation, the greed with which
+bishoprics are striven for. The riches that they entail may be judged
+from the ardor with which their possession is pursued. And yet, once
+won, the cupidity of the incumbents, so far from being assuaged, seems
+whetted. Do you remember, Eginhard, that insolent Bishop of Mannheim?
+When, at the time of one of my campaigns against the Huns, I left him
+near my wife Hildegarde, did not the worthy feel so inflated with the
+friendship that my wife showed him, that he carried his audacity to the
+point of demanding from her as a gift the gold wand that I use as a
+symbol of my authority, for the purpose, as that impudent bishop
+declared, of using it for a cane? By the King of the Heavens! The
+sceptre of Charles, of the Emperor, is not so readily to be converted
+into a walking stick for the bishops of his empire!"
+
+"You are in error, Charles," put in Amael. "Sooner or later, the bishops
+will use your sceptre for a baton by means of which to drive peoples
+and kings as may suit themselves."
+
+"By the hammer of my grandfather! I will break the bishops' mitres on
+their own heads if ever they dare to usurp my power!"
+
+"No; you will do no such thing, and for the simple reason that you stand
+in fear of them. As a proof, behold the vast estates and the flatteries
+that you shower upon them."
+
+"I, fear the bishops!" cried the Emperor; and turning to Eginhard: "Is
+that matter of the rat settled with the Jew?"
+
+"Yes, seigneur," answered Eginhard, smiling. "The bishop closed the
+bargain yesterday."
+
+"That happens in time to prove to you that I am not afraid of the
+bishops, seigneur Breton--I, flatter them? When, on the contrary, I miss
+no opportunity to give them severe or gentle lessons wherever they
+deserve reproof. As to the worthy ones, I enrich them; and even then I
+look twice before bestowing upon them lands and abbeys belonging to the
+imperial domains. And the reason is plain. With this or that abbey or
+farm I am certain of securing to myself some soldier vassal greatly more
+faithful than many a count or bishop."
+
+Thus pleasantly chatting, the Emperor regained his palace, and in the
+company of Vortigern, Amael, Eginhard and the freshly appointed Bishop
+of Limburg, re-ascended the steep spiral staircase that led to his
+private apartment. Hardly had Charles entered his observatory when one
+of his chamberlains announced to him:
+
+"August Emperor, several of the leading officers in the palace have
+solicited the honor of being admitted to your presence in order to lay a
+pressing request before you--the noble lady, Mathalgarde (she was one of
+the numerous concubines of Charles) also called twice on the same
+errand. She awaits your orders."
+
+"Let the petitioners come in," answered Charles to the chamberlain, who
+immediately left the room. Addressing the young clerk, now bishop, with
+a jovial yet impressive air, Charles pointed to the curtain of the door,
+near which his usual seat was located, and said: "Hide yourself behind
+that curtain, young man; you are about to learn the number of rivals
+that the death of a bishop raises. It will aid your education."
+
+The young clerk had barely vanished behind the curtain, before the
+chamber was invaded by a large number of the palace familiars, officers
+and seigneurs at court. Urging their own claims, or the claims of the
+clients whom they recommended, the mob deafened the Emperor's ears with
+their clamor. Among these was a bishop magnificently robed, and of
+haughty, imperious mien. He elbowed himself forward into Charles'
+presence as fast as he could.
+
+"This is the bishop of the rat," Eginhard whispered to the Emperor. "The
+price he paid the Jew was ten thousand silver sous. The Jew scrupulously
+reported the amount to me, as you ordered."
+
+"Bishop of Bergues, have you not enough with one bishopric?" Charles
+cried out to the haughty prelate. "Do you come to solicit a second?"
+
+"August Prince--I have come to pray you that you grant me the bishopric
+of Limburg, just vacant, in exchange for that of Bergues."
+
+"Because the former is richer?"
+
+"Yes, seigneur; and if I obtain it, the share of the poor will only be
+all the larger."
+
+"Now, all of you, listen to me attentively," the Emperor cried, pointing
+his finger at the bishop and in a tone of severity: "Knowing the
+passionate love of this prelate for frivolous and ruinous curiosities,
+which he purchases at prodigious prices, I ordered the Jew Solomon to
+catch a rat in his house, the vilest looking rat ever caught in a
+rat-trap, to embalm the beast in precious aromatics, to wrap it up in
+oriental materials embroidered in gold, to offer it to the Bishop of
+Bergues as a most rare rat imported from Judea upon a Venetian vessel,
+and to sell it to the prelate as the most prodigious and miraculous of
+rats."
+
+A loud outburst of laughter broke from the throats of all the
+dignitaries in the audience, except the Bishop of Bergues, who
+shamefacedly cast down his eyes. "Now, then," proceeded Charles, "do you
+know what price the Bishop of Bergues paid for that prodigious rat? _Ten
+thousand silver sous!_ The Jew reported to me the amount--which will be
+distributed among the poor!" Charles stopped for a moment, and presently
+resumed with heightened severity: "Ye bishops, have a care! It should be
+your duty to be the fathers, the purveyors of the poor, and not to show
+yourselves greedy of vain frivolities. Yet here you are, doing exactly
+the opposite. More than all other mortals are you given to avarice and
+idle cupidity! By the King of the Heavens, take a care! The Emperor's
+hand raised you, it may also pull you down. Keep that in mind."
+
+As Charles was uttering these last words, the courtiers were seen to
+part and make way for Mathalgarde, one of the Emperor's concubines. The
+woman, a dame of surpassing beauty, approached Charles with a confident
+air and said to him gracefully:
+
+"My kind Seigneur, the bishopric of Limburg is vacant. I have promised
+it to a clerk who is under my protection, not doubting your kind
+approval."
+
+"Dear Mathalgarde, I have bestowed the bishopric upon a young man--a
+very learned and deserving young man; I could not think of taking it
+back from him."
+
+Mathalgarde was not disconcerted. Assuming the most insinuating voice at
+her command, she seized one of the Emperor's hands and proceeded
+tenderly: "August Prince, my gracious master, why bestow the bishopric
+so ill by giving it to a young man, perhaps a child. I conjure you,
+grant the bishopric to my clerk."
+
+Suddenly a plaintive voice that proceeded from behind the curtain fell
+upon the startled ears of the attendants: "Seigneur Emperor, be
+firm--allow not that a mortal tear from your hands the power that God
+has placed in them. Be firm, Seigneur." It was the voice of poor
+Bernard, who, fearing Charles was about to allow himself to be seduced
+by the caressing words of Mathalgarde, wished to remind him of his
+promise. The Emperor immediately rolled back the curtain, behind which
+the clerk stood, took him by the hand, drew him forward, and presenting
+him to the audience, said: "This is the new Bishop of Limburg!" Before
+the audience could recover from their stupor Charles said to Bernard in
+a voice loud and piercing enough to be heard by all present: "Do not
+forget to distribute abundant alms--it will some day be your viaticum on
+that long journey from which man never returns."
+
+The beautiful Mathalgarde, whose hopes had thus been rudely dashed,
+reddened with anger and abruptly left the apartment. The other
+courtiers, along with the Bishop of Bergues, speedily followed the
+chagrined woman, no less disappointed than herself.
+
+"Seigneur Breton," the Emperor said, as soon as the chamber was cleared,
+and motioning Amael to approach the door, which he opened wider to step
+out upon the balcony and enjoy the pleasant warmth of the autumn sun,
+"do you still think Charles is of a mood to allow the bishops to use his
+sceptre for a baton with which to drive him and his people?"
+
+"Charles, should it please you this evening, the experiences of the day
+being over, to accord me a short interview, I shall then express to you
+sincerely my thoughts upon all that I have seen here. I shall praise
+what seems good to me--and I shall censure the evil."
+
+"Then you see evil here!"
+
+"Here--and elsewhere."
+
+"How 'elsewhere'?"
+
+"Do you imagine that your palace and your city of Aix-la-Chapelle, this
+favorite residence of yours, is all there is of Gaul?"
+
+"What do you say of Gaul! I have just traversed the North of those
+regions. I have been as far as Boulogne, where I had a lighthouse
+erected for the protection of the ships. Moreover--" but breaking off,
+the Emperor pointed in the direction of that portion of the courtyard
+that the balcony commanded, saying: "Look yonder--listen!"
+
+Amael saw near one of the galleries a young man, robust and tall of
+stature, wearing a thick black beard, and clad in the robes of a bishop.
+Two of his slaves had just brought out to him a gentle horse, as befits
+a prelate, and led the animal near a stone bench in order to aid their
+master in mounting. But the young bishop, having noticed two women
+looking at him from a nearby casement, and no doubt wishing to give
+them a proof of his agility, impatiently ordered his attendants to take
+the horse from the bench. Thereupon, disdaining even the help of a
+stirrup, he seized the animal's mane with one hand and gave so vigorous
+a jump that he had great difficulty to keep his saddle, lest he fall
+over on the other side. The perilous leap attracted the Emperor's
+attention to the prelate, and he called out to him in his shrill,
+squeaky voice: "Eh! Eh! You, there, my nimble prelate. One word with
+you, if you please!" The young man looked up, and recognizing Charles,
+respectfully bowed his head.
+
+"You are quick and agile; you have good feet, good arms and a good eye.
+The quiet of our empire is every day disturbed by wars. We stand in
+great need of 'clerks' of your kidney. You shall stay with us and share
+with us our fatigues, seeing you can mount a horse so nimbly. I shall
+bestow your bishopric upon someone who is less sprightly. You shall take
+your place among my men-at-arms."
+
+The young bishop lowered his head in confusion. He looked at the Emperor
+with a suppliant eye. But the latter's attention was speedily drawn from
+the discomfited prelate by the distant barking of a large pack of
+hounds, and the reveille of hunting trumps.
+
+"It is my hunting-train," exclaimed the Emperor. "We shall depart for
+the hunt, seigneur Breton. This evening we shall continue our chat.
+Return with your grandson to your apartment. You will be served the noon
+meal. After that you will both join me. I am curious to see whether this
+youngster is as good a horseman as report makes him. Moreover, although
+the exercise of the chase is a frivolous pastime, you may, perhaps, find
+that Charles the Fighter makes good use even of frivolities. Be off now
+to dinner--and then, to horse!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+TO THE HUNT.
+
+
+Octave had come to take Amael and his grandson to the noon meal. While
+they walked towards one of the courtyards of the palace, in order to
+join the hunting suite of the Emperor, the young Roman, profiting by a
+moment when the aged Breton could not overhear him, said in a low voice
+to Vortigern:
+
+"Lucky boy. I am convinced that two pairs of eyes, one black as ebony,
+the other of azure blue, have been peering through the crowd of
+courtiers--" but interrupting the flow of his words at the sight of the
+deep crimson that suffused the lad's visage, he proceeded to say: "Wait
+till I have finished before you grow purple. Well, as I was saying, two
+beautiful blue eyes and two equally beautiful black ones have, more than
+once, sought to detect in the crowd of courtiers--Whom?--the venerable
+figure of your grandfather, because there is nothing so attractive as a
+long white beard. So much is that so that this forenoon, at mass, the
+blonde Thetralde and the brunette Hildrude quite forgot the thread of
+the divine service in order to contemplate incessantly--your
+grandfather, who was seated next to you. Come, now, you are blushing
+again. Are you, perchance, afraid lest the fascinating daughters of the
+Emperor fall in love with the centenarian?"
+
+"Your jokes are becoming insupportable."
+
+"Oh, how contagious is the court air. Hardly is this Breton away from
+his native fogs than he has become as full of wiles as an old clerk."
+
+More and more embarrassed by the banterings of Octave, Vortigern only
+stammered a few words. The noon meal was disposed of. The aged Breton,
+his grandson and the young Roman were presently mounted upon their
+spirited horses that they found held ready for them by slaves in the
+courtyard of the palace, and they rode briskly out to join the Emperor.
+
+Two of the sons of Charles, Carloman and Louis, or Luthwig as the Franks
+pronounced it, had arrived that same morning from their castle of
+Heristal and now accompanied their father, together with five of his
+daughters and four of his concubines, the other women of the palace
+being this time excluded from the hunt. Among the huntresses was Imma,
+the paramour who had so bravely borne Eginhard, the archchaplain, upon
+her back. Still handsome, she now bordered on the full ripeness of
+womanhood. Near her rode Bertha, searching with her eyes for Enghilbert,
+the handsome Abbot of St. Riquier. A little behind the couple came
+Adelrude, who, from afar, smiled upon Audoin, one of Charles' most
+daring captains. Last of all trotted the brunette Hildrude, together
+with the blonde Thetralde, both endeavoring to detect, no doubt, the
+Breton centenarian, as Octave had told Vortigern. Most of the seigneurs
+of Charles' suite wore singular costumes, brought at great expense from
+Pavia, whither commerce unloaded the riches of the Orient. Among the
+Emperor's courtiers, some were clad in tunics of Tyrian purple furnished
+with broad capes, ornamented with facings of embroidered Phoenician
+birds'-skin, while feathers of Asiatic peacocks' tail, neck and back,
+caused their rich vestments to glitter in all the shades of blue, gold,
+and emerald. Others of the courtiers wore precious jackets of Judean
+dormouse, or weasel--gowns much prized and as dainty and delicate as the
+skin of a bird. Finally caps with floating feathers, leggings of silk,
+boots of oriental red or green leather, embroidered with gold or silver,
+completed the splendid accoutrement of these people of the court.
+
+The rude rusticity of the Emperor's costume stood off in marked contrast
+with the magnificence of his courtiers. His coarse and large leather
+boots, furnished with iron spurs, reached up to his thighs; under his
+tunic he wore a broad sheep-skin coat with the fleece on the outside,
+and his head was covered with a cap of badger-skin. In his hand the
+Emperor carried a short-handled whip which he used to stir up the
+hunting dogs with. Thanks to his tall stature, which greatly exceeded
+that of any of his officers, Charles was able to detect Vortigern and
+Amael from afar, whereupon he cried out to the grandfather:
+
+"Eh, seigneur Breton. Come, if you please, to my side, with your
+grandson. I wish to ascertain whether, indeed, he is as good a horseman
+as my little girls claim."
+
+The ranks of the courtiers parted in order to allow a passage to Amael
+and his grandson, the latter of whom modestly followed his grandfather,
+not daring to raise his eyes lest they should fall upon the group of
+women that surrounded the Emperor. Charles watched Vortigern
+attentively, and the gracefulness with which the youth handled his
+horse, drew from the Emperor the remark:
+
+"Old Charles can judge at a glance of the skill of a rider. I am
+satisfied. But I suspect you love the hunt better than you do the mass,
+and a horse's saddle better than a church bench."
+
+"I do prefer the hunt to the mass," frankly responded Vortigern; "but I
+prefer war to the hunt."
+
+"Though your answer is not that of a good Catholic, it is the answer of
+a sincere lad. What do you think, my little ones?" added the Emperor,
+turning towards the group of huntresses. "Are you not of my mind?"
+
+"You asked the young man for his opinion, and he spoke out with
+sincerity. He says what he does; he will do what he says. Valor and
+loyalty are written upon his face," was the prompt answer that came from
+Hildrude.
+
+The blonde Thetralde, not daring to speak after her elder sister, grew
+cherry-red, and cast a look of intense jealousy, almost of rage, upon
+the brunette Hildrude, whose quick repartee she envied.
+
+"There is nothing left to me but to join in the praise of the young
+pagan's frankness, lest I get into trouble with my little girls. Come
+forward," and leaning over towards Amael, he pointed angrily with his
+whip at the crowd of courtiers who shimmered in their costly finery, and
+prinked in their flowing plumes. "Look at that bevy of richly
+caparisoned customers. Look at them well. You will presently wish to
+remember the figures they are now cutting," saying which, the Emperor
+rode off at a gallop, followed by all his court, and calling out to the
+courtiers as well as to the Bretons:
+
+"Once in the forest, each to himself, and at the mercy of his own horse.
+At the hunt there is neither Emperor nor courtier. There are only
+hunters and huntresses!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE FOREST OF OPPENHEIM.
+
+
+The hunt to which Charles the Emperor had galloped off with the buoyancy
+of youth, took place in a vast forest located at the very gate of
+Aix-la-Chapelle. The autumn sky, at first radiant, had been gradually
+overcast by one of the mists that are so frequent at the season and in
+that northern region. Obedient to the Emperor's orders, none of his
+courtiers attached himself to his steps. The hunters scattered. The more
+daring and venturesome did not quit the pack, now fretting in their
+leashes to start in pursuit of the deer across the thickets. The less
+daring and less enthusiastic sportsmen contented themselves with
+following at a distance the sound of the horns or the barking of the
+hounds; they straggled behind, or waited to see the deer dash across
+their path with the hounds and hunters at his heels. From the very start
+of the hunt, Charles, carried away by his ardor for the sport, left his
+daughters to themselves, unable as they were to follow him through the
+thickest of the jungle, into which the Emperor of the Franks plunged
+like the hottest of his huntsmen. For an instant, separated from his
+grandfather in the rush and crush of the tumultuous assembly, where
+nearly a hundred horses, gathered in a small space, were excited by the
+din of the horns, to which they added their own impatient neighing,
+champed their bits and reared wildly, Vortigern raised himself in his
+stirrups and searched with his eyes for Amael, when suddenly his own
+horse took the bit in his mouth and galloped off rapidly with his rider.
+When the young Breton finally succeeded, by dint of violent efforts, to
+master his mount, he found himself at a considerable distance from the
+chase. Seeking to penetrate with his eyes the mist that spread ever
+further and thicker over the forest, the young man perceived that he was
+on a long avenue whose issues it was impossible to distinguish. He
+listened, expecting to hear from the distance the noise of the chase,
+which would have guided him in his efforts to joint it. The profoundest
+silence reigned in this part of the forest. A moment later, however, the
+tramp of two horses rapidly approaching from behind, struck his ears,
+and immediately after, a cry, uttered in anger rather than fear. An
+instant later, Vortigern detected a vague form across the mist. By
+degrees the form became distinct, and soon the blonde Thetralde was
+disclosed to the wondering eyes of the young Breton, urging on her
+horse, and clad in a long robe of sapphire blue cloth, trimmed with
+ermine, white as the coat of her palfrey. On her blonde tresses
+Thetralde wore a small cap, also of ermine. A sash of Tyrean silk of
+lively colors, the long ends of which fluttered behind her in the air,
+was wound around her delicate waist. The childlike and charming visage
+of the Emperor's daughter, now enhanced by the ardor of her run, shone
+with the flush of health. Blushing at the sight of Vortigern, Thetralde
+dropped her large blue eyes, while the tight corsage of her robe rose
+and sank under the throbs of her maidenly bosom. Vortigern's disturbance
+equalled Thetralde's. Like her, he remained mute and embarrassed. His
+eyes also were lowered, and he felt his heart beat violently. The silent
+embarrassment of the two children was broken by Thetralde. In a timid
+and diffident voice she said to the young Breton without daring to raise
+her eyes to him:
+
+"I thought I would never be able to join thee. Thy horse had such a long
+lead of my palfrey--"
+
+"My horse carried me away--"
+
+"Oh, I noticed it--my sister Hildrude also," Thetralde added frowning
+with her pretty eyebrows. "Both of us thereupon rushed in thy
+pursuit--we feared that in thy unacquaintance with the paths of our
+forest thou mightest lose thy way."
+
+"It did seem to me that I heard the gallop of two horses--"
+
+"My sister wished to run ahead of me; but I struck her horse on the head
+with my whip. The frightened animal bolted to one side, carrying
+Hildrude along. She was angry and uttered a cry of rage."
+
+"Perhaps she runs some danger!"
+
+"No, my sister will be able to master her horse. But as the mist is very
+thick, she will not be able to meet us again. I am so happy about that!"
+
+Vortigern felt on the rack. Nevertheless, an ineffable sense of joy
+mingled with his agony. Anew the two children remained silent, and again
+the daughter of the Emperor of the Franks was the one to break the
+silence:
+
+"Thou dost not speak--art thou annoyed that I have joined thee?"
+
+"Oh, no, lovely princess--"
+
+"Perhaps thou thinkest me wicked because I struck my sister's horse?
+When I saw her striving to pass me, I no longer could control myself."
+
+"I hope that no ill may have befallen your sister."
+
+"I hope so too."
+
+For a moment Thetralde and Vortigern again relapsed into silence. With a
+slight touch of vexation the young girl once more resumed the
+conversation:
+
+"Thou art very quiet--"
+
+"I know not what to say--"
+
+"Nor I either; and yet I was dying with the wish to speak to thee--what
+is thy name?"
+
+"Vortigern."
+
+"I am called Thetralde--pronounce my name."
+
+"Thetralde--"
+
+"I love to hear thee pronounce my name."
+
+"Where do you think the hunt is now?" asked the young Breton with
+increasing uneasiness. "It will be difficult to find the hunters. The
+mist grows ever denser."
+
+"Should we lose ourselves," Thetralde replied laughing, "I do not know
+the paths of the forest."
+
+"Why did you not, then, remain near the people of the court and the
+seigneurs of the escort?"
+
+"I saw thee running off rapidly, and I followed thee."
+
+"That throws both you and me into a great perplexity."
+
+"Art thou sorry to find thyself alone here with me?"
+
+"Not at all!" cried Vortigern, "only I fear that this dense mist may
+change into rain towards evening, and that you may get wet. We should
+try and join the chase. Do you not think so?"
+
+"In what direction shall we go?"
+
+"It seemed to me a moment ago I heard the feeble sound of horns at a
+great distance."
+
+"Let us listen again," said Thetralde, bending her charming head to one
+side, while Vortigern sought to listen from the opposite side.
+
+"Dost thou hear anything?" queried the Emperor's daughter raising her
+sweet voice and addressing Vortigern, who stood at a little distance. "I
+can hear nothing."
+
+"Nor I either," rejoined the young Breton.
+
+"Here we are lost!" cried the young girl laughing merrily. "And if night
+overtakes us, what a terrible thing!"
+
+"And you laugh at such a plight?"
+
+"Is it that thou art afraid, and thou a soldier?" But immediately the
+handsome face of Thetralde assumed an uneasy look and she observed:
+"Does thy wound hurt thee, my brave companion?"
+
+"I am not thinking of my wound. I am only uneasy at perceiving that the
+mist grows still thicker. How can we regain our route? Whither could we
+go?"
+
+"But I do wish to speak of thy wound," replied Charles' daughter with
+infantine impatience. "Why is not thy arm any longer protected by a
+scarf, as it was yesterday?"
+
+"It would have incommoded me in the chase."
+
+Thetralde quickly detached her long belt of Tyrean silk and held it out
+to Vortigern. "Take this, my belt will take the place of thy scarf, and
+sustain thy arm."
+
+"It is unnecessary, I assure you."
+
+"Bad boy!" cried Thetralde, holding out her belt to Vortigern; and
+fixing upon him her beautiful blue eyes, almost imploringly said: "I beg
+of thee; do not refuse me!"
+
+Vanquished by the timid and loving look, the young Breton accepted the
+scarf; but as he held the reins of his horse with one hand he found it
+difficult to fasten the belt into a scarf-band around his neck.
+
+"Wait," and Thetralde approached her palfrey close to Vortigern's horse,
+leaned over in her saddle, took the two ends of the belt and tied them
+behind the lad's neck. The touch of the young girl's hand sent so wild a
+thrill through his frame that Thetralde, noticing the circumstance,
+said, as she finished the knot: "Thou tremblest--is it out of fear, or
+out of cold?"
+
+"The mist is becoming so thick, so wet," answered Vortigern, with
+increasing uneasiness. "Are not you yourself cold? I very much fear for
+you in this icy mist--"
+
+"Fear not for me. But seeing thou art cold, we can walk our horses. It
+would be useless to move any faster. Perhaps the chase that we are in
+search of will come our way."
+
+"So much the better!"
+
+"I am delighted to learn that thy grandfather and thyself will remain a
+long time with us."
+
+"May we be fortunate enough to do so!"
+
+The two children continued their way, walking their horses side by side
+in the long avenue, where one could see not twenty paces ahead, so thick
+had the mist become. Night presently began to draw near. After a short
+interval of mutual silence, Thetralde resumed:
+
+"We Franks are the enemies of the people of thy country; and yet I feel
+no enmity whatever towards thee; and thou, dost thou entertain any
+hatred for me?"
+
+"I could not feel hatred for a young girl."
+
+"Thou must feel very sorry for being far away from thy own country.
+Wouldst thou wish me to ask the Emperor, my father, to render grace to
+thy grandfather and thyself?"
+
+"A Breton never asks for grace!" proudly cried Vortigern. "My
+grandfather and I are hostages, prisoners on parole; we shall submit to
+the law of war."
+
+A fresh interval of silence followed upon this exchange of words. But
+soon, as Vortigern had foreseen, the dense mist changed into a fine and
+penetrating rain.
+
+"The rain is upon us!" exclaimed the young Breton. "Not a sound is
+heard. This route seems to be endless. No! here is a side path to the
+left. Shall we take it?"
+
+"As it may please thee," answered Thetralde with indifference.
+
+The girl was about to turn her horse's head, agreeable to the suggestion
+of Vortigern, when the latter suddenly leaped down from his mount,
+detached the belt of his sword, took off his blouse, remaining in his
+thick jacket of the material of his breeches, and said to Thetralde:
+
+"I consented to accept your scarf. It is now your turn. You must now
+consent to cover yourself with my blouse. It will serve you for a
+mantle."
+
+"Place it on my shoulders," answered Thetralde blushing; "I dare not
+drop the reins of my palfrey."
+
+No less agitated than his girl companion, Vortigern drew near her and
+laid his garment on the shoulders of Thetralde. But when it came to
+tying the sleeves of the blouse around her neck and almost upon the
+palpitating bosom of the young girl, who, with her eyes lowered and her
+cheeks burning, raised her little pink chin in order to afford Vortigern
+full ease in the accomplishment of his kindly office, the hands of the
+lad shook so violently, that his mission was not accomplished until
+after repeated trials.
+
+"Thou art cold; thou art shivering worse than thou didst before."
+
+"It is not the cold that makes me shiver--"
+
+"What ails thee then?"
+
+"I know not--the uneasiness that I feel on your behalf, seeing that
+night approaches. We have lost our way in the forest. The rain is coming
+down heavier. And we know not what road to take--"
+
+Interrupting her companion with a cry of joy, Thetralde pointed with her
+finger to one side of the avenue of trees that they were on, and
+exclaimed: "There is a hut down yonder!"
+
+So there was. Vortigern perceived in the center of a cluster of
+centenarian chestnut trees a hut constructed of thick layers of peat
+heaped upon one another. A narrow opening gave entrance to the bower,
+before which the remnants of some dry wood recently lighted were still
+seen smouldering. "It is one of the huts in which the woodcutter slaves
+take refuge during the day when it rains," explained Thetralde. "We
+shall be then under cover. Tie thy horse to a tree and help me alight."
+
+At the bare thought of sharing the solitary retreat with the young girl,
+Vortigern felt his heart thump under his ribs. A flush of burning fever
+rose to his face while, nevertheless, he shivered. After a moment's
+hesitation, the lad complied with the orders of his companion. He tied
+his horse to a tree, and, in order to assist the young girl to alight
+from her mount, he extended to her his arms and received within them the
+supple and nimble body of Thetralde. So profound was the emotion
+experienced by Vortigern at the touch of the maid, that he was almost
+overcome. But the daughter of Charles, running towards the hut with
+pretty curiosity, cried out merrily:
+
+"I see a moss-bank in the hut and a supply of dry wood. Let's light a
+fire. There are still some embers burning. Hurry. Hurry."
+
+The lad hastened to join his companion and stumbled over a large log of
+wood that rolled at his feet. Stooping, he saw strewn about it a large
+number of burrs that had dropped down from the tall chestnut trees
+overhead. At once forgetting his embarrassment, he exclaimed with
+delight:
+
+"A discovery! Chestnuts! Chestnuts!"
+
+"What a find," responded Thetralde, no less delighted. "We shall roast
+the chestnuts. I shall pick them up while thou startest the fire."
+
+The young Breton did as suggested by his girl companion, all the more
+readily seeing that he hoped to find in the sport a refuge from the
+vague, tumultuous and ardent thoughts, big at once with delight and
+anxiety, that he had been a prey to from the moment of his meeting with
+Thetralde. He entered the hut, took up several bunches of dry wood and
+rekindled the brasier into flame, while the daughter of Charles, running
+hither and thither, gathered a large supply of chestnuts which she
+brought into the hut in a fold of her dress. Letting herself down upon
+the moss-bank that lay at the further end of the hut, the interior of
+which was now brightly lighted by the glare of the fire which burned
+near the entrance, she said to Vortigern, motioning him to a seat near
+her:
+
+"Sit down here, and help me shell these chestnuts."
+
+The lad sat down near Thetralde and entered with her into a contest of
+swiftness in the shelling of chestnuts, during which, like herself, he
+more than once pricked his fingers in the effort to extract the ripe
+kernels from their burrs. Presently, looking into her face, he said
+archly:
+
+"And here you have the daughter of the Emperor of the Franks; seated
+inside of a peat hut and shelling chestnuts like any woodchopper and
+slave's daughter."
+
+"Vortigern," answered Thetralde, returning the look of her companion
+with a radiant face, "never was the daughter of the Emperor of the
+Franks more happy than at this moment."
+
+"And I, Thetralde, I swear to you that since the day I left my mother,
+my sister and Brittany, I have never been more pleased than to-day, than
+now, near you."
+
+"And if to-morrow should resemble to-day? and if it should be thus for a
+long time, a very long time--wouldst thou always be pleased?"
+
+"And you, Thetralde?"
+
+"Say 'thou' to me. We address one another with 'thou' in Germany. Say to
+me: 'And thou, Thetralde?'"
+
+"But the respect--"
+
+"I say 'thou' to you, and do not respect you the less for it," rejoined
+the maid laughing. "Say to me: 'And thou, Thetralde?'"
+
+"And thou, Thetralde?"
+
+"So thou wishest to know whether I would be happy at the thought of all
+our days resembling this one, and our living together?"
+
+"Yes, my charming Princess!"
+
+The young maid remained pensive, holding in her delicate fingers a half
+opened chestnut husk. Presently she raised her head and broke the
+silence with the question: "Vortigern, is it far from here to thy
+country?"
+
+"It took us more than a month to come here from Brittany."
+
+"Vortigern, what a beautiful journey that would make!"
+
+"What sayest thou?"
+
+Thetralde made a charming gesture commanding silence: "Hast thou any
+money about thee?"
+
+And proceeding to detach from her belt a little embroidered purse, she
+emptied its contents into her lap. There were several heavy pieces of
+gold and a large number of smaller pieces of silver and copper. Two of
+the latter, one of silver and one of copper, and both of about the size
+of a denier, were pierced and tied together by a thread of gold. "This
+is all my treasure," the girl observed.
+
+"Why are these two pieces tied together?" inquired Vortigern, with a
+look of curiosity.
+
+"Oh, these two must never be spent. We must preserve them carefully. One
+of them, the copper one, was struck the year of my birth; the other, the
+silver one, was struck this year, when I shall be fifteen. Fabius, my
+father's astronomer, has engraved upon these pieces certain magical
+signs corresponding to planets of happy influence. The Bishop of
+Aix-la-Chapelle blessed them. They are a talisman."
+
+"If it were not that they are a talisman, Thetralde, I would have
+requested these two little pieces from thee as a souvenir of this day."
+
+"To what purpose wouldst thou keep a souvenir of this day rather than of
+the next days to follow? Dost thou not desire that all should resemble
+one another? If thou desirest these two little pieces, here, take them;
+I give them to thee. A talisman is a useful thing on a journey. Place
+them in the pocket of thy jacket."
+
+Vortigern obeyed almost mechanically, while the young girl, after
+ingenuously counting up her little hoard, resumed, saying: "We here have
+five gold sous, eight silver deniers, and twelve copper deniers;
+besides my bracelets, my necklace and my earrings. With that we shall
+have money enough to journey as far as Brittany. Night is upon us; we
+shall spend it under the shelter of this hut. To-morrow we shall have
+the woodcutter slave lead us to Werstern, a little burg situated on the
+skirt of the forest, about two leagues from Aix-la-Chapelle. We shall
+buy some simple clothing for myself, a traveling cloak of cloth.
+To-morrow at daybreak we shall start on our route. Do not fear that I
+shall recoil before fatigue. I am neither as tall nor as strong as my
+sister Hildrude, and yet, if thou shouldst be tired or wounded, I am
+sure I could carry thee on my back, just as my sister Imma once carried
+her lover Eginhard on hers. But our chestnuts are now all shelled. Come
+and help me to put them under the hot ashes. We shall eat them when
+roasted."
+
+Raising with one hand the fold of her robe in which lay the nuts,
+Thetralde ran to the brasier. Vortigern followed her. He felt as in a
+dream. At times his reason gave way under the spell of an ardent and
+intoxicating vertigo. He knelt down silently, disturbed in mind, beside
+Thetralde before the brasier, into which the girl, steeped in thought,
+was slowly throwing the chestnuts one by one. Without, the rain had
+stopped; but the mist, now thickened to a fog with the approach of
+night, rendered the darkness complete. The reflection of the brasier
+only lighted up the charming faces of the two children on their knees
+beside each other. When the last chestnut had followed the others under
+the cinders, Thetralde rose, and leaning with familiar candor on
+Vortigern's shoulders said to him, taking his hand:
+
+"And now, while thy supper is cooking, let us go back and sit down upon
+the bench of moss for me to finish telling thee my prospects. I have
+thought over what we are to do."
+
+The night became profound. The flickering, vacillating flame in the
+expiring brasier seemed to cry for fresh fuel. The chestnuts, that had
+been consigned to its warmth, snapped noisily from their hulls into the
+air, announcing that their toothsome pulp was ready to be partaken of.
+Without, the horse and the palfrey of Vortigern and Thetralde pawed the
+ground and neighed impatiently, as if calling for their provender. The
+fire finally went out. The chestnuts changed to charcoal. The neighings
+of the horses resounded ever louder in the midst of the nocturnal
+silence of the forest. Thetralde and Vortigern did not issue from the
+hut.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+AT THE MORT.
+
+
+From the start of the hunt, the Emperor of the Franks had rushed
+headlong on the heels of the hounds. Amael, at first somewhat uneasy at
+the disappearance of his grandson in the midst of so large a concourse
+of cavaliers, was taken by accident towards that part of the forest
+whither the stag was leading the hounds from cover to cover. Amael even
+had the opportunity to assist, shortly before nightfall, at the killing
+of the stag, which, exhausted with fatigue after four hours of
+breathless running, turned at bay before the hounds when they had
+reached him at last, and strove to defend himself against them with the
+aid of the magnificent spread of antlers that crowned his head. The
+Emperor had not for a moment lost track of the hounds. He followed them
+speedily at the mort, together with a few others of the hunters. Jumping
+from his horse, he ran limping towards the animal at bay that already
+had gored several hounds with his sharp horns. Choosing with an
+experienced eye the opportune moment, Charles drew his hunting knife,
+and, rushing upon the desperate animal, plunged the weapon into the stag
+just above its shoulder, threw it down and then abandoned it to the
+hounds, that fiercely precipitated themselves upon the warm quarry and
+devoured it amidst the sonorous fanfare of the hunters' horns that thus
+announced the close of the chase and called their scattered fellows to
+reassemble. With his bloody knife in his hand, and after having
+contemplated with lively satisfaction the wild pack now red at their
+nozzles and contending with one another for the shreds of the stag's
+flesh, the Emperor's eyes fell upon Amael, to whom he called out gaily:
+
+"Eh, seigneur Breton--am I not a bold hunter?"
+
+"You will pardon my sincerity, but I find that at this moment the
+Emperor of the Franks, with his long knife in his hand, and his boots
+and coat spattered with blood, looks more like a butcher than like an
+illustrious monarch."
+
+"I feel happy, nevertheless, and consequently inclined to be indulgent,
+seigneur Breton," replied the Emperor, laughing; then, lowering his
+voice, he observed to Amael: "Now, see how the clothes of the seigneurs
+of my court look."
+
+In fact, most of the Emperor's seigneurs and officers, now hastening in
+on horseback to his presence from all sides of the thickets in response
+to the horns, presented an appearance that contrasted sadly with that
+which they had presented a few hours before. Magnificently attired at
+the start of the hunt, those seigneurs, who looked so resplendent in
+their rich tunics of silk, now presented a sight that was as ridiculous
+as it was pitiful. The embroideries on their tunics, at first so rich in
+color, were now frayed, soiled with mud, and torn by the branches of the
+trees and the thorns of the briars; the feathers that floated proudly
+from their caps, now drooped, wet, broken and draggled, resembling long,
+dislocated, and limp fish-bones; the boots of oriental leather had
+vanished under a thick coat of slush, and not a few of them, torn by the
+thorns, exposed their owners' hose, not infrequently also their skin
+itself. They shivered and looked distressed. Charles, on the contrary,
+simply and warmly dressed in his thick sheep-skin coat, which reached
+down over his boots of rough leather, and his head covered with his
+badger-skin bonnet, rubbed his hands with a cunning look of satisfaction
+in his eyes at the sight of his courtiers shivering with the cold and
+the wet. After contemplating the spectacle for a moment, Charles made a
+sign of intelligence to Amael and said to him in an undertone:
+
+"Just before breaking ranks for the hunt, I recommended you to observe
+the magnificence of the costumes of these coxcombs, who are as vain as
+Asiatic peacocks, and even more devoid of brains than the bird whose
+spoils they wear. Look at them now--the fine fellows!" Amael smiled
+approvingly, while the Emperor, shrugging his shoulders, turned to the
+seigneurs with his squalling voice: "Oh, ye most foolish of people,
+which is at this moment the most precious and useful of all our raiment?
+Mine, which I bought with barely a sou? Or yours, which you have had to
+pay for through the nose?"
+
+At this judicious raillery, the courtiers remained silent and confused,
+while the Emperor, placing both his hands on his spacious paunch, roared
+out aloud.
+
+"Charles," Amael said to him unheard by the others, "I prefer to hear
+you speak with that sly wisdom than to see you disemboweling stags."
+
+But the Emperor did not answer the aged Breton. He suddenly interrupted
+the discourse, extending his hand towards a group of nearby serfs, and
+crying out:
+
+"Oh! Look at that pretty girl!"
+
+Amael followed with his eyes the direction indicated by Charles and saw
+amid several of the woodcutter slaves of the forest who had been
+attracted by curiosity to see the hunt, a young girl barely covered in
+rags, but of remarkable beauty. A much younger child of about ten or
+eleven years held her by the hand. A poor old woman, as wretchedly clad
+as the girl, was in the company of the two. The Emperor of the Franks,
+whose large eyes glistened like carbuncles with the fire of lust,
+repeated, addressing Amael:
+
+"By the cape of St. Martin! The girl is beautiful. Is it that your
+hundred years on your back render you insensible to the sight of such
+rare beauty, seigneur Breton? What a beautiful girl!"
+
+"Charles, the misery of that creature strikes me more strongly than her
+beauty."
+
+"You are very commiserate, seigneur Breton--so am I. Linen and silk
+should clothe so charming a figure. No doubt she is the daughter of some
+woodman slave. I can tell you, one runs at times across wonderfully
+beautiful girls in the forest. More than once I have dropped the chase
+in the middle of the heat to pursue another scent. But in honor to
+truth, I have never seen such a charmer before. It must be her good star
+that brought her across the path of Charles." Without removing his eyes
+from the young girl, Charles called to one of the seigneurs in his
+suite: "Eh! Burchard. Come here; I have orders for you."
+
+The seigneur Burchard quickly alighted from his horse and hastened to
+obey the call of the Emperor. The latter, moving a few steps away from
+Amael, whispered a few words in the ear of the seigneur, who, showing
+himself greatly honored with the mission given him by his master, bowed
+respectfully, and, leading his horse by the bridle, approached the old
+woman and the two younger girls who stood by her, motioned to them to
+follow him, and vanished with his charge behind the group of hunters. A
+deep flush colored the cheeks of Amael; he puckered his brows, and his
+features became expressive of as much indignation as disgust. At that
+same instant Amael noticed that the Emperor was looking about him with a
+certain degree of uneasiness and calling out aloud:
+
+"Where are my little girls? Can they have lost track of the hunt?"
+
+"August Emperor," said one of the officers, "Richulff, who accompanied
+your august daughters, told me that when the rain began to fall some of
+them concluded to return to Aix-la-Chapelle, while the others decided to
+seek the shelter of the pavilion, where you ordered supper to be held
+ready."
+
+"Think of the timorous bodies! I wager that my little Thetralde is not
+among the Amazons who are afraid of a drop of water, and who hastened
+back to the palace. As they are all safe, I shall not worry. Let us
+hasten to the pavilion ourselves, because I am ravenously hungry." And
+remounting his horse, the Emperor added: "We shall find at the pavilion
+the damsels who have preferred to sup with their father. The
+stout-hearted lasses shall be well feasted, and I shall bestow rich
+presents upon them."
+
+Seeing that Charles was manifesting some slight uneasiness on the score
+of his daughters, Amael, in turn, began to feel preoccupied with regard
+to Vortigern, whom, for some time, he had been searching for with his
+eyes among the groups of the approaching knights. As his eyes fell upon
+Octave, who just then came running in at a gallop, the aged Breton
+inquired from him with no little anxiety:
+
+"Octave, have you seen my grandson anywhere?"
+
+"We parted company almost at the very start of the hunt."
+
+"He is not with us," proceeded Amael with increasing uneasiness. "Night
+is here and he is not familiar with the paths of the forest."
+
+"Oh! Oh! seigneur Breton," put in the Emperor of the Franks, who,
+immediately upon remounting his horse, had drawn near the aged man and
+overheard his question to the young Roman, "you seem to feel uneasy
+about your youngster. Well, what if he should have lost his way this
+evening? He will find it again to-morrow. Do you fear he will die of one
+night spent in the forest? Is not hunting the school of war? Come, come!
+Be at ease. Besides, who knows," added Charles with a roguish air.
+"Mayhap he encountered some pretty woodcutter's daughter in some of the
+huts of the forest. It is like his years. You surely do not mean to make
+a monk of him? Pretty lassies are meant for handsome lads."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+EMPEROR AND HOSTAGE.
+
+
+Led by the Emperor of the Franks, the cavalcade of hunters rode towards
+the pavilion where supper was to be partaken of before the return to
+Aix-la-Chapelle. Charles called Amael to his side, and noticing, as they
+rode, that the aged Breton continued preoccupied about Vortigern, the
+Emperor turned to the centenarian with a merry twinkle in his eye:
+
+"What do you think of this day? Have you recovered from your prejudices
+against Charles the Fighter? Do you think me at all worthy to govern my
+Empire, a domain as vast as the old Empire of Rome? Do you deem me
+worthy of reigning over the population of Armorica?"
+
+"Charles, in my youth your grandfather proposed to me that I be the
+jailer of the last descendant of Clovis, an ill-starred boy, then a
+prisoner in an abbey, and having barely one suit of clothes to cover
+himself with. That boy, when grown to man's estate, was, upon orders of
+Pepin, your father, tonsured and locked up in a monastery, where he died
+obscure and forgotten. Thus do royalties end. Such is the expiation,
+prompt or late, reserved for royal stocks that issue from conquest."
+
+"Then the stock of Charles, whom the whole world calls the Great,"
+rejoined the Emperor with an incredulous and proud smile, "is,
+according to your theory, destined to run out obscurely in some
+do-nothing king?"
+
+"It is my firm conviction."
+
+"I took you at first for a man of good judgment," replied the Emperor
+shrugging his shoulders; "I must now admit that I was mistaken."
+
+"This very morning, in your Palatine school, you observed that the
+children of the poor studied with zeal, while the children of the rich
+are lazy. The reason is plain. The former feel the need of work to
+insure their well-being; the latter, being provided with and in
+possession of ample fortunes, make no effort to acquire knowledge. It is
+to them superfluous. Your ancestors, the stewards of the palace, have
+done like the children of the poor. Your descendants, however, being no
+longer in need of conquering a crown, will imitate the children of the
+rich."
+
+"Despite a certain appearance of logic, your argument is false. My
+father usurped a crown, but he left to me at the most the Kingdom of
+Gaul. To-day Gaul is but one of the provinces of the immense empire that
+I have conquered. Obviously, I did not remain idle and torpid like the
+rich boys in your comparison."
+
+"The Frankish Kings, together with their leudes, who later became great
+landed seigneurs, and the bishops, plundered Gaul, divided her territory
+among them, and reduced her people to slavery. But after a period, be it
+short or long, learn this, Oh, great Emperor, the people will rise in
+their strength, glorious, terrible, and they will know how to reconquer
+their patrimony and their independence!"
+
+"Let us drop the future and the past. What think you of Charles?"
+
+"I think that you are mistakenly proud of having almost reconstructed
+the administrative edifice of the Roman emperors, and of causing, like
+them, your will to weigh upon the whole domain, from one end to the
+other. Of all that, nothing will be left after you are gone! All the
+peoples that have been conquered and subjugated by your arms will rise
+in revolt. Your boundless empire, composed of kingdoms that no common
+bond of origin, of customs, or of language holds together, will fall to
+pieces; it will crumble together and will bury your descendants under
+its ruins."
+
+"Do you mean to imply that Charles the Great will have passed over the
+world like a shadow without leaving behind him any lasting monument of
+his glory?"
+
+"No, your life will not have been worthless. By ceaselessly warring
+against the Frisians, the Saxons and other peoples who wished to invade
+Gaul, you have checked, if not forever, at least for a long time, the
+maraudings of those hordes that ravaged the north and east of our
+unhappy country. But if you have barred the entrance of the barbarians
+into Gaul over land, the sea remains open to them. The Northman pirates
+almost every day make descents upon the coasts of your Empire, and their
+boldness increases to the point that ascending in their vessels the
+Meuse, the Gironde and the Loire, they threaten the very heart of your
+dominion."
+
+"Oh, old man! This time, I fear me, your misgivings do not lead you
+astray. The Northmans are the only source of disquiet to my sleep! The
+bare thought of the invasions of those pagans causes me to be overcome
+with involuntary and unexplainable apprehensions. One day, during my
+sojourn at Narbonne, several vessels of those accursed people extended
+their piratical incursion into the very port. A sinister presentiment
+seized me; despite all I could do to restrain them, the tears rolled out
+of my eyes. One of my officers asked me the reason for my sudden fit of
+sadness. 'Do you wish to know, my faithful followers,' I answered, 'do
+you wish to know why I weep so bitterly? Certes, I do not fear that
+these Northmans may injure me with their piracies; but I feel profoundly
+afflicted at the thought that, in my very lifetime, they have the
+audacity of touching upon the borders of my Empire; and great is my
+grief because I have a presentiment of the sufferings that these
+Northmans will inflict upon my descendants and my peoples;'" and the
+Emperor remained for several minutes as if overpowered by the sinister
+premonition that he now recalled.
+
+"Charles," Amael resumed with a grave voice, "all royalty that issues
+from conquest, or from violence, carries within itself the germ of
+death, for the reason that its principle is iniquitous. Perchance those
+Northman pirates may some day cause your stock to expiate the original
+iniquity of the royal sway that you hold from conquest."
+
+Whether, absorbed in his own thoughts, the Emperor failed to hear the
+last words of the Gaul, or whether he could make no answer to them, he
+suddenly cried out:
+
+"Let us forget the accursed Northmans. Speak to me of the good that I
+have done. Your words of praise are rare; I like them all the more for
+that."
+
+"You are not cruel out of wilfulness, although you might be reproached
+for the massacre of more than four thousand Saxon prisoners."
+
+"I remember the event perfectly," Charles said with emphasis. "I had to
+terrify those barbarians by a signal example. It was a fatal
+necessity!"
+
+"Your heart is accessible to certain promptings of justice and humanity.
+In your capitularies you made an effort to improve the condition of the
+slaves and the colonists."
+
+"It was my duty as a Christian, as a Catholic. All men are brothers."
+
+"You are no more Christian than your friends, the bishops. You have
+simply yielded to an instinct of humanity, natural to man, whatever his
+religion may be. But still you are not a Christian."
+
+"By the King of the Heavens! Perhaps I am a Jew?"
+
+"Christ said, according to St. Luke the Evangelist: _The Lord hath sent
+me to preach deliverance to the captives--to set at liberty them that
+are bruised._ Now, then, your dominions are full of prisoners carried by
+conquest from their own homes; the estates of your bishops and your
+abbots are stocked with slaves. Accordingly, neither you nor your
+priests are Christians. A Christian, according to the words of the
+Christ, must never hold his fellowman in bondage. All men are equal."
+
+"Custom so wills it; I merely conform myself thereto."
+
+"What is there to hinder you, and the bishops as well as you, all-mighty
+Emperor that you are, from abolishing the abominable custom? What is
+there to hinder you from emancipating the slaves? What is there to
+hinder you from restoring to them, along with their liberty, the
+possession of the land that they themselves render fruitful with the
+sweat of their brow?"
+
+"Old man, from time immemorial there have been slaves, and there ever
+will be slaves. What would it avail to be of the conquering race if not
+to keep the fruits of conquest? By the King of the Heavens! Do you take
+me for a barbarian? Have I not promulgated laws, founded schools,
+encouraged letters, arts and sciences? Is there in the whole world a
+city comparable with Aix-la-Chapelle?"
+
+"Your gorgeous capital of Aix-la-Chapelle, the capital of your Germanic
+possessions, is not Gaul. Gaul has remained to you a strange country.
+You love forests that lend themselves to your autumn hunting parties,
+and the rich domains, whence every year the revenues are carted to your
+residences on the other side of the Rhine. But you do not love Gaul,
+seeing that you exhaust her resources in men and money in order to carry
+on your wars. Frightful misery desolates our provinces. Millions of
+God's creatures, deprived almost of bread, shelter and clothes, toil
+from dawn to dusk, and die in slavery--all in order to sustain the
+opulence of their masters. If you cause instruction to be given to some
+pupils in your Palatine school, you allow, on the other hand, millions
+of God's creatures to live like brutes! Such is the condition of Gaul
+under your reign, Charles the Great!"
+
+"Old man," rejoined the Emperor, with a somber face and rising anger,
+"after treating you as a friend this whole day, I looked for different
+language. You are more than severe, you are unjust."
+
+"I have been sincere towards you, the same as I was towards your
+grandfather."
+
+"Mindful of the service that you rendered my grandfather at the battle
+of Poitiers, I meant to be generous towards you. I meant to do the right
+thing by myself, by your people, and by you. I hoped to see you, after
+this day spent in close intimacy with me, drop your prejudices, and to
+be able to say to you: I have vanquished the Bretons by force of arms; I
+desire to affirm my conquest by persuasion. Return to your country;
+report to your countrymen the day that you spent with Charles; they will
+trust your words, seeing that they place implicit confidence in you. You
+were the soul of the last two wars that they sustained against me. Be
+now the soul of our pacification. A conquest founded on force is often
+ephemeral; a conquest cemented in mutual affection and esteem is
+imperishable. I trust in your loyalty to gain the hearts of the Bretons
+to me. Such was my hope. The bitter injustice of your words dashes it.
+Let us think of it no more. You shall remain here as a hostage. I shall
+treat you as a brave soldier, who saved my grandfather's life. Perhaps
+in time you will judge me more justly. When that day shall have come,
+you will be allowed to return to your own country, and I feel sure you
+will then tell them what is right, as to-day you would only tell them
+what is wrong. All things will come in due season."
+
+"Although your hopes can not realize the object that you proposed, they,
+nevertheless, are an evidence of a generous soul."
+
+"By the cap of St. Martin! You Bretons are a strange people. What! If
+you should believe that I deserve esteem and affection, and if your
+countrymen should share your opinion, would neither you nor they accept
+with joy the authority that you now submit to by force?"
+
+"With us it is no question of having a more or less worthy master. We
+want no master."
+
+"And yet I am your master, ye pagans!"
+
+"Until the day when we shall have reconquered our independence by a
+successful insurrection."
+
+"You will be crushed to dust, exterminated! I swear it by the beard of
+the eternal Father."
+
+"Exterminate the last of the Breton Gauls, strangle all the children,
+and you will then be able to reign over the desert of Armorica. But so
+long as there lives a single man of our race in our country, you may be
+able to vanquish, but never to subjugate it."
+
+"But tell me, old man, is it that my rule is so terrible, and my laws so
+hard?"
+
+"We want no foreign domination. To live according to the laws of our
+fathers, freely and as becomes free men, to choose our chiefs, to pay no
+tribute, to lock ourselves up within our own frontiers and to defend
+them--these are our aspirations. Accept them and you will have nothing
+to fear from us."
+
+"To dictate conditions to me! to me, who reign as sovereign master over
+all Europe! To have a miserable population of shepherds and husbandmen
+impose conditions to me! to me, whose arms have conquered the world!
+Impudence can reach no further!"
+
+"I might answer you that, in order to vanquish that miserable population
+of shepherds, of woodmen and husbandmen entrenched in their mountain
+fastnesses, behind their rocks, their marshes and their forests, your
+veteran bands had to be requisitioned for Gaul--"
+
+"Yes," cried the Emperor in a vexed voice, "in order to keep your
+accursed country in obedience, I am forced to leave there my choicest
+troops, troops that I may need at any moment here in Germany, where I
+have hard battles to fight."
+
+"That must be an unpleasant thing to you, Charles, I admit. Without
+mentioning the maritime invasions of the Northmans, there are the
+Bohemians, the Hungarians, the Bavarians, the Lombards and so many other
+people whom your arms have overcome, the same as they overcame us, the
+Bretons--all vanquished, but none subjugated. From one moment to the
+other they may rise anew, and, what is graver still, menace the very
+heart of your Empire. As to us, on the contrary, all that we demand is
+to live free; we never think of going beyond our frontiers."
+
+"Who guarantees to me that, once my troops, are out of your infernal
+country, you will not forthwith resume your armed excursions and attacks
+against the Frankish forces that are bivouacked on this side of your
+borders?"
+
+"The other provinces are Gallic like ourselves. Our duty bids us to
+provoke them, and to aid them to break the yoke of the Frankish kings.
+But the thoughtful people among us are of the opinion that the hour for
+revolt has not yet come. For the last four centuries the Catholic
+priests have moulded the minds of the people to slavery. Alas, centuries
+will pass before they re-awaken from their present stupor. You admit
+that it is dangerous for you to be compelled to keep a portion of your
+best troops tied up in Brittany. Recall your army. I give you my word as
+a Breton, and I am, moreover, authorized to make the pledge in the name
+of our tribes, that, so long as you live, we shall not go out of our
+frontiers."
+
+"By the King of the Heavens! The joke is rather too harsh. Do you take
+me for a fool? Do I not know that, if I grant you a truce by withdrawing
+my troops, you will take advantage of it to prepare anew for war after
+my death? But we shall always know how to suppress your uprisings."
+
+"Yes, we shall certainly take up arms if your sons fail to respect our
+liberties."
+
+"And you really expect me--me, the vanquisher, to consent to a shameful
+truce? To consent to withdraw my forces from a country that it has cost
+me so much trouble to overcome?"
+
+"Very well; leave, then, your army in Brittany, but depend upon it that,
+within a year or two, new insurrections will break out."
+
+"Insane old man! How dare you hold such language to me when you, your
+grandson, and four other Breton chiefs are my hostages! Oh! I swear by
+the everlasting God, your head will drop at the first sign of an
+insurrection. Do not lean too heavily upon the good nature of the old
+Charles. The terrible example I made of the four thousand prisoners whom
+I took from the revolted Saxons should be proof enough to you that I
+recoil before no act of necessity. Only the dead are not to be feared."
+
+"The Breton chiefs who remained on the way by reason of their wounds,
+and who will speedily join me and my grandson at Aix-la-Chapelle, would,
+no more than my grandson and myself, have accepted the post of hostages
+had the same been without danger. Whatever the fate may be that awaits
+us, we shall not falter in our duty. We are here in the very center of
+your Empire, and well in condition to judge of the opportuneness for an
+uprising. From this very place we will give the signal for a fresh war,
+the moment we think the time is favorable."
+
+"By the King of the Heavens! This audacity has gone far enough!" cried
+the Emperor, pale with rage. "To dare tell me that these traitors,
+according to what they may see and spy near my court, will themselves
+send to Brittany the order to revolt! Oh, I swear by God, from
+to-morrow, from this very evening, both you and your grandson will be
+cast into a dungeon so dark that you will need lynx's eyes to find out
+what goes on around here. By the cap of St. Martin! Such insolence is
+enough to turn one into a ferocious beast. Not another word, old man!
+Here we are at the pavilion. I shall now join my daughters. The sight of
+them will console me for your ingratitude!"
+
+Uttering these last words with mingled rage and sorrow, the Emperor put
+his horse to the gallop in order to reach all the quicker the hunting
+pavilion, where he expected to meet his daughters, and satisfy his
+growing hunger. The seigneurs in Charles' suite were about to follow
+their master's example and quicken the steps of their mounts, when the
+Emperor, suddenly turning around, cried out to them, with an imperious
+voice:
+
+"No one shall follow me. I want to be alone with my daughters! You shall
+await my orders near the pavilion."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+FRANK AND BRETON.
+
+
+The Emperor rode rapidly forward toward the hunting pavilion. The
+seigneurs of his suite received the angry order of their master with
+silent obedience, and, reining in their horses, proceeded at a slower
+gait towards the rendezvous. Lost among them, Amael rode along, steeped
+in thought, revolving the recent conversation he had with Charles, and
+at the same time more and more a prey to anxiety at the prolonged
+absence of Vortigern. The Emperor's courtiers shivered under their robes
+of silk and drabbled feathers, and silently grumbled at the whim of
+their Emperor, whereby the looked-for time was retarded when they might
+warm themselves at the fire of the pavilion, and revive their spirits
+with supper. Arrived in the close neighborhood of the pavilion, they
+alighted from their horses. They had been conversing together about a
+quarter of an hour, when Amael, who had also alighted and leaned
+pensively against one of the nearby gigantic trees of the forest,
+noticed Octave hastening in his direction and calling out to him:
+
+"Amael, I was looking for you--come quick!"
+
+The aged Breton tied his horse to the tree and followed Octave. When
+both had walked a little distance away from the group of the Frankish
+seigneurs, the young Roman proceeded:
+
+"I feel mortally uneasy on the score of Vortigern. Your grandson having
+been carried away by his horse early in the hunt, Thetralde and
+Hildrude, two of the Emperor's daughters, followed him on the spot. What
+may have happened? I can not guess. I am told positively that Hildrude,
+who seemed greatly irritated, rode back to Aix-la-Chapelle with two
+other sisters and all the concubines of the Emperor who had come to the
+chase. Thetralde must have remained alone behind with Vortigern in some
+part of the forest."
+
+"Finish your account."
+
+"I know from experience how easy-going are the morals of this court.
+Thetralde has taken notice of your grandson. She is fifteen, has been
+brought up amidst her sisters, who have as many paramours as their own
+father has mistresses. Despite himself, Vortigern has made a lively
+impression upon the heart of Thetralde. The two are children. They have
+vanished together, and must have been lost together, seeing that three
+of the Emperor's daughters have returned to the palace and the other two
+are at the pavilion. Only Thetralde is not to be found. If she lost her
+way in the company of Vortigern--I would this morning have been of the
+opinion that it was to be hoped--"
+
+"Heaven and earth!" broke in the aged Breton, growing pale. "How dare
+you joke on such a matter!"
+
+"This morning I would have considered the adventure highly amusing. This
+evening it seems to me redoubtable. A minute ago, angered at something
+or other, the Emperor clapped both his spurs to his horse's flanks,
+ordered that none should follow him, and rushed towards the pavilion.
+Rothaide and Bertha, daughters of Charles, notified of their father's
+approach by the clatter of his horse, and believing that his whole
+suite was with him, sped away to the upper chambers of the
+pavilion--Bertha with Enghilbert, the handsome Abbot of St. Riquier,
+Rothaide with Audoin, one of the Emperor's officers."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"The Emperor arrives all alone and dismounts. 'Where are my daughters?'
+he calls out impatiently to the Grand Nomenclator of his table who
+happens to be superintending the preparations for the supper. The Grand
+Nomenclator answers in great embarrassment: 'August Emperor, allow me to
+go and announce your arrival to the Princesses; they have withdrawn to
+the upper chambers in order to take some rest while waiting for supper.'
+'I shall go myself and see them,' replies Charles, saying which, he
+clambers up the stairs. Old Vulcan surprising Venus and Mars at their
+amorous escapade, could not have been more furious than was the august
+Emperor when he surprised his daughters in the arms of their gallants.
+The Grand Nomenclator having remained near the door of the staircase
+soon heard an infernal racket in the chambers above. The irate Charles
+was plying his hunting whip right and left over the two amorous couples.
+A profound silence ensued thereupon. The Emperor having the habit of not
+noising such things about came down again, calm in appearance, but pale
+with rage, and--"
+
+Octave's narrative was at this point suddenly interrupted by tumultuous
+cries that proceeded from the pavilion. Slaves were seen rushing out of
+the building with lighted torches in their hands, and immediately the
+shrill voice of Charles himself was heard calling out:
+
+"To horse! My daughter Thetralde has lost her way in the forest! She has
+not returned to the palace--and she is not here in the pavilion. Take
+the torches--and to horse! To horse!"
+
+"Amael, in the name of your grandson's welfare," whispered Octave
+precipitately in the Breton's ear, "follow me at a distance. There is
+just one chance left to us of saving Vortigern from the Emperor's rage."
+Saying this, the young Roman disappeared among the seigneurs of the
+court who were hastening towards their horses, while Charles, whose
+rage, restrained for a moment, now exploded with renewed fierceness,
+screeched at them:
+
+"Look at them, gaping open-mouthed, like a herd of startled sheep! Let
+each one take a torch and follow one of the avenues of the forest, all
+the while calling out to my daughter as loud as he can. Halloa
+there--let someone take up a torch and ride ahead of me!"
+
+At these words, Octave seized a torch and approached the Emperor, while
+other seigneurs rode rapidly off in several directions in search of the
+lost Thetralde. The meaning of the hurried recommendation that Octave
+had addressed to him a minute before flashed at this moment clear
+through Amael's mind. Mounting his horse at the same time that Charles
+and the young Roman who bore the torch did theirs, he allowed the two to
+take somewhat the lead of him, and then followed them at a distance,
+guided by the torch that Octave held aloft.
+
+As Octave later narrated to him, the Emperor alternated between fits of
+rage, provoked by the freshest proof of the libertinage to which his
+daughters were addicted, and uneasiness at the disappearance of
+Thetralde. These several sentiments were given vent to by broken words
+that from time to time reached the ears of the young Roman who preceded
+Charles by only a few paces.
+
+"My poor child!--where can she be?--Perhaps dying of cold and fear--at
+the bottom of some thicket, perhaps!" murmured the Emperor. Presently he
+would call out at the top of his voice: "Thetralde! Thetralde! Oh, she
+does not hear me! King of the Heavens, have pity upon me. So young--so
+delicate--a chilly night like this is enough to kill her. Oh, my unhappy
+old age, that this child might have served to console--she would not
+have resembled her sisters! Her fifteen year forehead was never
+crimsoned with an evil thought. Oh, dead! Dead, perhaps! No, no--youth
+is full of pranks! Besides, these daughters, all of whom I have brought
+up like boys, are all accustomed to fatigue. They accompany me during my
+long journeys. But yet, the night is so dark--and it is so chilly!"
+Whereupon the Emperor would again call out: "Thetralde!" and suddenly
+reining in his horse and listening, the Emperor of the Franks broke the
+silence with the sudden question: "Did you not hear a sound like the
+neighing of a horse?"
+
+"I did, august Prince," answered the young Roman.
+
+"Listen! Listen again!"
+
+Octave kept silent. Soon again the sound of distant neighing broke upon
+the stillness of the forest.
+
+"No doubt any longer. Despairing of finding her way, my daughter must
+have tied her palfrey to a tree!" exclaimed the Emperor, his heart
+bounding with hope. Calling out to Octave, he ordered: "Gallop! Gallop
+faster!" and himself increasing his own speed to the utmost cried out
+uninterruptedly: "Thetralde! Thetralde! Thetralde, my daughter!"
+
+Amael, who followed Charles at a goodly distance, keeping himself well
+in the shadow, also fell into a gallop the moment he noticed the
+torchlight that guided him suddenly move with increased swiftness into
+the darkness. The Emperor and Octave were close upon the spot where,
+before entering the woodcutter's hut, Vortigern and Thetralde had tied
+their mounts. The glimmer of the torch fell upon and lighted the white
+body of Thetralde's palfrey, throwing into the shade Vortigern's horse
+that was tied a few steps further away. The Emperor recognized his
+daughter's favorite mount, and cried out:
+
+"Thetralde's palfrey!" and immediately thereupon perceiving the hut
+itself by the light of the torch borne by Octave, he added: "Oh, King of
+the Heavens! Thanks be to you!" The Emperor quickly dismounted and
+walking precipitately towards the hut which lay about twenty paces from
+the path, he called back to Octave: "Walk faster! My daughter is there.
+Precede me!"
+
+Gifted with an eye even more piercing than Charles', Octave had
+recognized with a shudder the horse of Vortigern close to Thetralde's
+palfrey. Foreseeing the outburst of fury that the Emperor was about to
+fall into at the spectacle that Octave surmised awaited his aged eyes,
+the Roman resorted to an extreme measure. Affecting to stumble, he
+dropped the torch in the hope of extinguishing it at his feet, as if by
+accident. But Charles quickly stooped down, as quickly raised it and
+rushed forward towards the entrance of the hut. Trembling with fear, the
+young Roman followed closely behind the Emperor. Charles suddenly stood
+still as if petrified at the threshold of the hut, whose interior was
+now brilliantly lighted by the torch in the Emperor's hand. Having also
+dismounted, Amael was enabled, without his steps being heard by
+Charles, to draw nearer, and stood close to him at the very moment that,
+struck with stupor, the Emperor of the Franks stopped, motionless.
+
+Profoundly asleep, and stretched out upon the floor with his unsheathed
+sword beside him, Vortigern barred the entrance to the hut. In order to
+enter it, an intruder would have been compelled to walk over his body
+that lay across the threshold. In the depth of the retreat, stretched on
+a bed of moss and carefully wrapped in the lad's tunic, Thetralde
+enjoyed a slumber as profound as her guardian at the entrance. The
+girl's head and face, charming in their candor, rested on one of her
+arms that lay folded beneath. So deep was the sleep of the two, that
+neither the young girl nor Vortigern was at first awakened by the glare
+of the torch.
+
+Thick drops of perspiration rolled down from the forehead of the Emperor
+of the Franks. The stupor that first seized him at finding his daughter
+in a solitary hut in the company of the young Breton, was soon followed
+by an expression of undefinable agony. Presently the cruel doubts
+concerning the chastity of his youngest daughter made room for hope when
+he noticed the serenity of the slumber of the two children. The Emperor
+gathered additional comfort from the precaution that Vortigern had taken
+in laying himself athwart the entrance, obedient, no doubt, to a thought
+of respectful and chivalrous solicitude.
+
+Thetralde was the first to open her eyes. The glare of the torch fell
+upon her face. She half raised her head; still half asleep, carried her
+hand to her eyes, and sat up. In a second, seeing her father before her,
+she uttered a cry of such sincere joy, her charming features expressed a
+happiness so utterly free from all embarrassment, that, bounding to her
+father's neck, she was pressed by Charles to his heart with delirious
+rapture:
+
+"Oh!" the Emperor exclaimed, "I fear naught, her forehead is free from
+shame."
+
+The words of the enraptured father reached the ears of Amael, who had
+remained motionless behind the Emperor, whose life was soon in no slight
+danger, seeing that, in her first and spontaneous outburst of joy to
+fall on her father's neck, Thetralde had struck Vortigern with her feet
+as she bounded forward. The young Breton, thus awakened with a start,
+his eyes dazzled by the glare of the torch, and his mind still clouded
+with sleep, grasped his sword and jumped up. At the sight of the two men
+at the entrance of the hut, one of them tightly holding Thetralde in his
+arms, the lad imagined that violence was being attempted upon her. He
+seized Charles by the throat with one hand and, raising his sword in the
+other, cried: "I will kill you!" Immediately, however, recognizing the
+father of Thetralde, Vortigern dropped his weapon, rubbed his eyes, and
+exclaimed:
+
+"The Emperor of the Franks!"
+
+"Himself, my lad!" replied the Emperor in a cheerful voice, while he
+again kissed the forehead and head of his daughter with almost frantic
+delight. "The vigor of your clutch proves to me that ill would he have
+fared who should have entertained any evil designs against my little
+girl!"
+
+"We are your enemies, and still you received my grandfather and myself
+with kindness," answered the young Breton ingenuously and without
+lowering his eyes before the penetrating looks that Charles shot at him.
+"I have watched over your daughter--as I should have watched over my own
+sister."
+
+Vortigern emphasized the words 'my own sister' in such a manner that
+Amael, fully sharing the confidence of Charles, whispered at the
+latter's ear:
+
+"I have no doubt of the purity of these children."
+
+"And you here?" exclaimed the Emperor astonished. "Be welcome, my
+esteemed guest!"
+
+"You looked for your daughter--I also set out in search of my grandson."
+
+"And I have found her, the dear child!" exclaimed Charles with ineffable
+tenderness, again and again kissing the forehead of Thetralde. "Oh, how
+I do love her--more than ever before!" And holding the girl close to his
+breast the Emperor moved toward the interior of the hut, and threw
+himself down upon the moss-bench, broken with fatigue. There he seated
+Thetralde upon his knees, and contemplating her with looks of
+unspeakable happiness, said: "Come now, my little one, tell me all about
+your adventure. How did you lose track of the hunt? How did you resign
+yourself to spend the night in this hut?"
+
+"Father," answered the girl, lowering her eyes and hiding her face on
+Charles' breast, "let me collect my thoughts--I want to tell you all
+that happened, absolutely everything, without concealing aught."
+
+After a short interval that followed Thetralde's answer, Vortigern drew
+near Amael, who tenderly pressed him to his heart, while, standing at a
+little distance, the torch in his hand lighting the scene, the young
+Roman, it must be admitted, looked more astonished than enthusiastic at
+the continence of Vortigern.
+
+"Father," Thetralde resumed, raising her head and attaching her candid
+looks upon the Emperor of the Franks, "I must tell you everything. Not
+so? Everything--absolutely everything?"
+
+"Yes, my little darling, without omitting anything." But after a
+second's reflection, Charles said to Octave: "Plant that torch in the
+ground, and watch our horses with this young lad."
+
+The Roman bowed and obeyed; accompanied by Amael's grandson he stepped
+out of the hut.
+
+"What, father, you send Vortigern out?" remarked Thetralde in an accent
+of sweet reproach. "I would on the contrary, have wished him to remain
+near us, in order to confirm or complete my story, my dear father."
+
+"All you tell me, my dear daughter, I shall believe. Speak, speak
+without fear before me and the grandfather of the worthy lad."
+
+"Yesterday," Thetralde began, "I was on the balcony of the palace when
+Vortigern rode into the courtyard. Learning that he came hither as a
+prisoner, so young, and wounded, besides, I immediately took an interest
+in him. When shortly after, he came near being thrown from his horse,
+perhaps even killed, I was so frightened that I uttered a cry of dread.
+But when Hildrude and myself saw that he proved himself an intrepid
+horseman, we threw our nose-gays to him."
+
+"You both told me how you admired the skilfulness of the lad's
+horsemanship, but you said nothing about the throwing of your bouquets.
+Well, let us proceed--continue."
+
+"I certainly was very happy at your return home, good father. Yet, I
+must confess to you, it seems to me that my thoughts turned as much on
+Vortigern as on yourself. All night my sister and I talked about the
+young Breton, about his gracefulness, about his comely face that was at
+once sweet and bold--"
+
+"That is all very well--that is all very well. Let us skip all that, my
+daughter. Let us drop the details concerning the lad's looks."
+
+"Then you object, father, to my telling you all? He made a deep
+impression upon us."
+
+"Let us come to the episode of the chase."
+
+"It was dawn before I fell asleep, but only to dream about Vortigern. We
+saw him again at church. When I was not contemplating his bold and sweet
+face, I was praying for the safety of his soul. After mass, when I
+learned that there was to be a hunting party, my only fear was that he
+might not be one of the party. Judge, then, of my joy, father, when I
+saw him in your retinue. Suddenly his horse took fright and carried him
+off! Before I could reflect I plied the whip upon my palfrey to join
+him. Hildrude followed and tried to pass me. That irritated me. I struck
+her horse on the head. The animal bolted and carried her off in another
+direction. I was alone when I overtook Vortigern. The mist, then the
+rain and thereupon the night fell upon us. We noticed this woodcutter's
+hut and a brasier that was almost extinct. We then said to each other:
+'It is impossible to find our way back, let us spend the night here.'
+Happily we noticed some chestnuts that had dropped on the ground from
+the trees. We gathered them, roasted them under the cinders--but we
+forgot to eat them--"
+
+"Because, I suppose, you were both tired, no doubt--and, in order to
+take rest, you lay down on this moss-bench, and the lad across the
+threshold?"
+
+"Oh, no, no, my father! Before falling asleep we chatted a good deal,
+we disputed a good deal. It was due to our discussion that Vortigern and
+myself forgot all about the chestnuts. Thereupon sleep overtook us and
+we stretched ourselves to rest."
+
+"But what was the subject, my child, of the discussion between you and
+the lad?"
+
+"Alack! I had wicked thoughts--those thoughts were combatted by
+Vortigern with all his might. It was upon that that our dispute ran. But
+I must admit that, after all, he was right. You will never believe me. I
+wanted to flee from Aix-la-Chapelle and go to Brittany with
+Vortigern--to marry him."
+
+"To leave me--my daughter--abandon your father--me, who love you so
+much?"
+
+"Those were the very arguments of Vortigern. 'Thetralde, dost thou think
+well,' he said to me, 'to leave thy father who loves thee? Wouldst thou
+have the regrettable courage to cause him so deep a grief? And as to
+myself, whom, as well as my grandfather, he has treated with kindness,
+should I be thy accomplice? No! No! Moreover, I am here a prisoner on
+parole. To flee would be to disgrace myself. My mother would refuse to
+see me.' 'Thy mother loves thee too much not to pardon thee,' I said to
+Vortigern; 'my father also will pardon me; he is so good! Did he not
+show himself indulgent towards my sisters, who have their lovers as he
+has his mistresses? To love can neither hurt nor injure others. Once
+married, we shall return to my father. Happy at seeing us again, he will
+forget everything else, and we shall live near him as do Eginhard and my
+sister Imma.' But Vortigern, ever inflexible, returned incessantly upon
+his word as a prisoner and the grief that his flight would cause his
+mother and grandfather. His warm tears mingled with mine as he consoled
+and chide me for the child that I was. Finally, after our dispute had
+lasted a long while, and we had wept a good deal, he said to me:
+'Thetralde, it is now late; thou surely must feel fatigued; thou
+shouldst lie down on this bed of moss; I shall lay myself across the
+entrance with my bare sword at my side, to defend thee, if need be.' I
+did begin to feel sleepy; Vortigern covered me with his tunic; I fell
+asleep and was dreaming about him when I was awakened by you, my
+father."
+
+The Emperor of the Franks listened to the naive recital with a mixture
+of tenderness, apprehension and grief. At its close he heaved a sigh of
+profound relief that seemed to issue from the silent reflection: "What a
+danger did not my daughter escape!" This thought soon dominated all the
+others that crowded to his mind. Charles again embraced Thetralde
+effusively, and said:
+
+"Dear child, your candor charms me. It makes me forget that even for a
+moment you could entertain the thought of running away from your father,
+which would have been a mean thing to do."
+
+"Oh! Vortigern made me renounce the wicked project. And, now, as a
+reward to him, you will be good, you will marry us, will you not,
+father?"
+
+"We shall talk later about that. For the present we must think of
+regaining the pavilion, where you will rest awhile. We shall depart to
+Aix-la-Chapelle. Stay here a moment I have a few words to exchange with
+this good old man."
+
+Charles stepped out of the hut with Amael, and as soon as they were a
+few paces away, he turned towards the aged Breton with a radiant face
+on which, however, deep concern was depicted:
+
+"Your grandson is a loyal lad; yours is a family of worthy and brave
+people. You saved my grandfather's life; your grandson has respected the
+honor of my daughter. I know but too well the dangers that lie, at the
+age of these children, in the wake of the first impulse of love. Had
+Vortigern yielded, he would have had to pay for it with his life. I am
+happy and by far prefer to praise than to punish."
+
+"Charles, when a few hours ago I expressed to you my uneasiness
+concerning Vortigern's absence, you answered me: 'Good! He will have run
+across some pretty woodcutter's daughter. Love is meet for his years.
+You do not mean to make a monk of the lad?' What, now, if he had treated
+your daughter like a woodcutter's child?"
+
+"By the King of the Heavens! Vortigern would not have left the hut
+alive!"
+
+"Accordingly, it is permissible to dishonor the daughter of a slave, and
+yet shall the dishonor of the daughter of an emperor be punished with
+death? Both are the children of God, alike in His eyes. Why the
+difference in your mind?"
+
+"Old man, these words are senseless!"
+
+"You pretend to be a Christian, and you treat us as pagans! My grandson
+has conducted himself like an honest man; that is all. Honor is dear to
+us Gauls of old Armorica, whose device is: _Never did Breton commit
+treason._ Will you render me a favor? I shall be eternally grateful to
+you."
+
+"Speak! What do you wish of Charles?"
+
+"A short while ago you seemed struck with the beauty of a poor slave
+girl. You mean to make her one of your concubines. Be magnanimous
+towards the unhappy creature; do not corrupt her; render their freedom
+to her and her family; give those people the means to live industriously
+and honorably."
+
+"It shall be so, by the faith of Charles; I promise you. Besides, I
+consent to withdraw my troops from your country, provided you pledge to
+me your faith as a Breton that, during my life, you will not make any
+incursions beyond your own frontiers. Give me your hand, Amael--your
+loyal hand in sign of acceptance."
+
+"Here it is, Charles," promptly answered Amael, grasping the hand
+proffered by the Emperor. "Let it be the hand of a traitor, and that it
+fall under the axe if our people break the promise! We shall live at
+peace with you. If your descendants respect our liberties, we shall live
+at peace with them."
+
+"Amael, it is sworn!"
+
+"Charles, it is accepted and sworn!"
+
+"Instead of returning to Aix-la-Chapelle, you and your grandson shall
+spend the night in the pavilion of the forest. To-morrow, at early
+daybreak, I shall have your baggage forwarded to you, together with an
+escort, charged to accompany you as far as the frontiers of Armorica.
+You shall depart without delay."
+
+"Your directions will be followed to the letter."
+
+"I shall now return to the pavilion alone with my daughter. I shall tell
+my courtiers that I found her in the hut. Alack! the calumnies of the
+court are cruel. People will not believe in the innocence of Thetralde,
+and if, besides, they should learn that she spent a part of the night
+with your grandson in that obscure retreat, they will take for granted
+all that they now impute to her sisters. Oh! My father's heart bleeds
+strangely. I have loved my daughters too much. I have been too indulgent
+towards them! And then also, my continuous wars beyond my own kingdom,
+together with the affairs of state, have prevented me from watching over
+my children. And yet, during my absence, I always left them in the
+charge of priests. Neither were they left idle; they embroidered
+chasubles for the bishops! But, it seems that our Lord God, who has ever
+and otherwise stood at my side, has willed it so, that I be struck in my
+family. His will be done! I am an unhappy father!" Charles thereupon
+called to the Roman:
+
+"Octave, nobody--do you understand me, nobody--must know that my
+daughter spent a part of the night in this hut with that young man. Evil
+tongues do not spare even the chastest and most admirable souls. The
+secret of this night is known only by me, my daughter, and these two
+Bretons. I am as certain of their discretion as of my own and
+Thetralde's. You are lost if but a word of this adventure circulates at
+court. It is from you alone that it can have proceeded. If, on the
+contrary, you help me to keep the secret, you may rely upon increasing
+favors from me."
+
+"August Emperor, I shall carry that secret with me into my grave."
+
+"I rely upon it. Fetch me my horse and my daughter's. You are to
+accompany us to the hunting pavilion, and thence to Aix-la-Chapelle. I
+will place you in command of the escort that I give these two hostages
+to return to their own country. I shall furnish you with an order to the
+commander of my army in Brittany. You will start to-morrow, early, with
+the escort to the pavilion of the forest, and you will thence depart for
+Armorica."
+
+Octave bowed, and the Emperor proceeded, addressing Amael:
+
+"The moon has risen. It sheds sufficient light upon the route. Jump upon
+your horse, with your grandson. Follow this avenue of trees until you
+reach a clearing. Wait there. You will shortly be sent for. I shall
+despatch my messengers to take you to the pavilion, where you are to
+stay until your departure early to-morrow morning. And now, Adieu!"
+
+Amael returned to his grandson, whom he found in a deep study, seated on
+the stump of a tree that bordered the route. The lad was silently
+weeping with his face hidden in his hands, and heard not the steps of
+his grandfather approaching him.
+
+"Come, my boy," said Amael to him in a mild and grave voice. "Let us to
+horse, and depart."
+
+"Depart!" exclaimed Vortigern, with a tremor, rising impetuously to his
+feet and wiping with his hand the tears that moistened his face.
+
+"Yes, my boy! To-morrow we start for Brittany, where you will see again
+your mother and sister. The nobility of your conduct has borne its
+fruit. We are free. Charles recalls his troops from Brittany."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Shortly after our return home from Aix-la-Chapelle, my grandfather,
+Amael, wrote the above narrative, which I have faithfully joined to the
+preceding ones of our family. Myself, Vortigern, buried my grandfather
+not long after at the ripe age of one hundred and five years, shortly
+after my own marriage with the loving Josseline. Charles the Great died
+at Aix-la-Chapelle in the year 814.
+
+
+
+
+PART II.
+
+THE CONQUEST OF BRITTANY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+IN THE BLACK MOUNTAINS.
+
+
+In the year 818, seven years after Amael and his grandson Vortigern left
+the court of Charles, the Emperor of the Franks, to return to their home
+in Brittany, three riders, accompanied by a footman, were one evening
+painfully climbing one of the steep hills of the ridge of the Black
+Mountains, that raise their rugged ribs to the southwest of Armorica.
+When, having reached the top of the rocky pile over which the path wound
+its way, the travelers looked below, they saw at their feet a long chain
+of plains and hillocks, some covered with rye and wheat ready for the
+harvesters, others running northward like vast carpets of heather. Here
+and yonder, vast moors also were perceived stretching out as far as the
+eye could follow. A few straggling villages, reached by an avenue of
+trees, raised the roofs of their houses in the midst of impassible bogs
+that served for natural defences. The panorama was enlivened by herds of
+black sheep that browsed over the ruddy heath or the green valleys,
+watered by innumerable running streams. Among the green were also seen
+steers and cows, and especially a large number of horses of the Breton
+stock, strong for the plow, fiery in war.
+
+The three riders, preceded by the footman, now proceeded to descend the
+further slope of the rugged hill. One of the three, clad in
+ecclesiastical robes, was Witchaire, considered one of the richest
+abbots of Gaul. The vast lands of his almost royal abbey bordered on the
+frontiers of Armorica. His two companions, on horseback like himself,
+were monks belonging to his dependency, and both wore the garb of the
+religious Order of St. Benoit. The two monks rode behind the abbot at a
+little distance, leading between them a packsaddle mule loaded with the
+baggage of their superior, a man of short stature, sharp eye, and a
+smile that was at times pious, at other times cunning. The mountain
+guide, a robust, thick-set man in the vigor of life, wore the antique
+costume of the Breton Gauls--wide breeches of cloth held at the waist by
+a leather belt, a jacket of wool, and, hanging from his shoulders on the
+same side with his wallet, a cloak of goat-skin, although the season was
+summer. His hair, only partly covered with a woolen cap, fell over his
+shoulders. From time to time he leaned upon his _pen-bas_, a long staff
+made of holly and terminating in a crook.
+
+The burning August sun, now at its hottest, darted its rays upon the
+guide, the two monks and Abbot Witchaire. Reining in his horse, the
+latter said to the guide:
+
+"The heat is suffocating; these granite rocks radiate it upon us as hot
+as if they issued from a furnace; our mounts are exhausted. I decry
+yonder, at our feet, a thick forest; could you not lead us to it? We
+could then take rest in the shade."
+
+Karouer, the guide, shook his head, and answered, pointing with his
+_pen-bas_ in the direction of the dense woods: "To reach them we would
+have to make a leap of two hundred feet, or a circuit of nearly three
+leagues over the mountains. Which shall it be?"
+
+"Let us, then, pursue our route, my trusty guide. But tell us how long
+will it take us to arrive in the valley of Lokfern?"
+
+"Look yonder, below, away below, close to the horizon. Do you see the
+last of those bluish crests? That is the Menez-c'Hom, the highest peak
+of the Black Mountains. The other peak towards the west, and lying
+somewhat nearer, is Lach-Renan. It is between those two peaks that lies
+the valley of Lokfern, where Morvan, the husbandman and Chief of
+Brittany lives."
+
+"Are you certain that he will be at his farm-house?"
+
+"A husbandman always returns to his farm-house after sunset. We shall
+find him there."
+
+"Do you know Morvan personally?"
+
+"I am of his tribe. I fought under him at the time of our last struggles
+against the Franks, when Charles, the Emperor, lived."
+
+"Is this Morvan married, do you know?"
+
+"His wife Noblede is the worthy spouse of Morvan. She is of the stock of
+Joel. That says everything. We honor and venerate her."
+
+"Who is that Joel, whom you mentioned?"
+
+"One of the worthiest men, whose memory Armorica has preserved green.
+His daughter, Hena, the Virgin of the Isle of Sen, offered her own life
+in sacrifice for the safety of Gaul when the Romans invaded these
+parts."
+
+"I have been told that your people apprehend an invasion of the Franks
+in Brittany, and that you are making ready for a declaration of war from
+Louis the Pious, son of the great Charles."
+
+"Have you seen any preparations for war since you crossed our frontier?"
+
+"I have seen the husbandmen in the fields, the shepherds leading their
+flocks, the cities open and tranquil. But it is known that in your
+country, woodmen, husbandmen, shepherds and town folks transform
+themselves into soldiers at a moment's notice."
+
+"Yes, when our country is threatened with invasion."
+
+"And do you apprehend such an invasion?"
+
+Karouer looked at the abbot fixedly, smiled sarcastically, made no
+answer, whistled, and presently broke out into a Breton song,
+mechanically whirling his _pen-bas_ as he strode rapidly forward in the
+lead of the three monks.
+
+Night drew on. Karouer and the dignitaries whom he guided, having been
+all day on the march, were now approaching one of the highest points on
+the mountain path that they had been following, when, struck by an
+unexpected spectacle, Witchaire suddenly reined in his horse.
+
+The sight that took the abbot by surprise was, indeed, startling. A
+flame, hardly distinguishable by reason of its great distance, and yet
+perceptible on the horizon, whose outlines the dusk had not yet wholly
+blotted out, had barely arrested his attention, when, almost
+instantaneously, similar tongues of fire gradually shot up from the
+distant tops of the long chain of the Black Mountains. The fires gained
+in brilliancy and size in the measure that they broke out nearer and
+nearer to the spot where the abbot stood. Suddenly, only twenty paces
+away from him, the startled prelate perceived a bluish gleam through a
+dense smoke. The gleam speedily changed into a brilliant flame, that,
+shooting upwards toward the starry sky, spread a light so bright that
+the abbot, his monks, his guide, the rocks round about and a good
+portion of the crag of the mountain stood illumined as if at noon. A few
+minutes later similar bonfires continued to be kindled from hill to
+hill, tracing back, as it seemed, the route that the travelers had left
+behind, and losing themselves in the distance in the evening haze. The
+abbot remained mute with stupefaction. Karouer emitted three times a
+gutteral and loud cry resembling that of a night bird. A similar cry,
+proceeding from behind the plateau of rocks where the nearest bonfire
+was burning, responded to the signal from Karouer.
+
+"What fires are these that are springing up from hill-top to hill-top?"
+the abbot inquired with intense curiosity the moment he recovered from
+his astonishment. "It must be some signal."
+
+"At this moment," answered Karouer, "similar fires are burning from all
+the hill-tops of Armorica, from the mountains of Arres to the Black
+Mountains and the ocean."
+
+"But to what purpose?"
+
+As was his wont, Karouer made no answer to such pointed interrogatories,
+but striking up some Breton song, quickened his steps, while he whirled
+his _pen-bas_ in the air.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE BRETON CHIEF.
+
+
+The home of Morvan, the husbandman, who was chosen Chief of the Chiefs
+of Brittany, was located about the middle of the valley of Lokfern, and
+nestled among the last spurs of the Black Mountains. A strong system of
+palisades, constructed of tough trunks of oak fastened together by means
+of stout cross-beams, and raised on the near side of deep ditches,
+defended the approaches of the farm-house. Outside of the fortified
+enclosure, a forest of centenarian oaks extended to the north and east;
+to the south, green meadows sloped gently towards the windings of a
+swift running river that was bordered with beeches and alders.
+
+The house of Morvan, its contiguous barns, kennels and stables, had the
+rough exterior of the Gallic structures of olden days. A sort of rustic
+porch shaded the main entrance to the house. Under this porch, and
+enjoying the close of the delightful summer day, were Noblede, the
+spouse of Morvan, and Josseline, the young wife of Vortigern. The
+latter, a radiant woman of smiling beauty, was suckling her latest born,
+with her other two children, Ewrag and Rosneven, respectively four and
+five years of age, at her side. Caswallan, a Christian druid, an aged
+man of venerable appearance, whose beard vied in whiteness with his long
+robe, smiled tenderly upon little Ewrag, whom he held on his knees.
+Noblede, Morvan's wife and sister of Vortigern, now about thirty years
+of age, was a woman of rare comeliness, although her features bore the
+stamp of a rooted sadness. Ten years a wife, Noblede had not yet tasted
+the sweets of motherhood. Her grave aspect and her high stature recalled
+those matrons, who, in the days of Gaul's independence, sat loyally by
+the side of their husbands at the supreme councils of the nation.[C]
+Noblede and Josseline were spinning, while the other women and daughters
+of Morvan's household busied themselves with the preparations for the
+evening meal, or in the other domestic occupations, such as replenishing
+with forage the stalls that the cattle were to find ready upon their
+return from the fields. The Christian druid Caswallan, with Ewrag, the
+second child of the blonde Josseline, on his knees, had just finished
+making the boy recite his lesson in religion under the following
+symbolic forms:
+
+"White child of the druid, answer me, what shall I tell you?"
+
+"Tell me the parts of the number three," the child would answer, "make
+them known to me, that I may learn them to-day."
+
+"There are three parts of the world--three beginnings and three ends to
+man as to the oak--three celestial kingdoms, fruits of gold, brilliant
+flowers and little children who laugh. These three kingdoms, where the
+fruits of gold, the brilliant flowers and the children who laugh are
+found, my little Ewrag, are the worlds in which those, who in this world
+have performed pure and celestial acts, will be successively born again
+and will continue to live with ever increasing happiness. Now, what must
+we be in order to perform such acts?"
+
+"We must be wise, good and just," the child would reply. "Furthermore
+death must not be feared, because we are born again and again, from
+world to world with an ever renewed body. We must love Brittany like a
+tender mother--and bravely defend her against her enemies."
+
+"Yes, my child," broke in Noblede, drawing her brother's child to
+herself. "Always remember those sacred words: 'To love and defend
+Brittany';" and Morvan's wife tenderly embraced Ewrag.
+
+"Mother! mother!" cried up little Rosneven, joyfully clapping his hands
+and rushing out of the porch followed by his brother Ewrag: "Here is
+father!"
+
+Caswallan, Noblede and Josseline rose at the gladsome cries of the child
+and walked out towards two large wagons heavily laden with golden
+sheaves, and drawn by a yoke of oxen.
+
+Morvan and Vortigern were seated in front of one of the wagons
+surrounded by a considerable number of men and lads belonging to the
+household, or to the tribe of the Chief of the Chiefs, carrying in their
+hands the sickles, the forks and the rakes used by the harvesters. At a
+little distance behind them came the shepherds with their flocks whose
+bells were heard clinking from the distance. Morvan, in the vigor of
+life, robust and thick-set, like most of the inhabitants of the Black
+Mountains, wore their rustic garb--wide breeches of coarse white
+material, and a linen shirt that exposed his sunburnt chest and neck.
+His long hair, auburn like his thick beard, framed his manly face. His
+forehead was high; his eyes intrepid and piercing. As to Vortigern, the
+maturer gravity of manhood, of husband and father, had succeeded the
+flower of youth. His looks were expressive of sweet delight at the sight
+of the two boys who had ran out to meet him. He jumped down from the
+wagon and embraced them affectionately while he looked for his wife and
+sister, who, accompanied by Caswallan, were not long in joining him.
+
+"Dear wife, the harvest will be plentiful," said Morvan to Noblede, and
+pointing to the overloaded wagons, he added: "Have you ever seen more
+beautiful wheat, or more golden sheaves? Look at them and wonder!"
+
+"Morvan," put in Josseline, "you are this year harvesting earlier than
+customary. We, of the region of Karnak would leave our wheat to ripen on
+the stalk fully two weeks longer. Not so, Vortigern?"
+
+"No, my sweet Josseline," answered her husband, "I shall follow Morvan's
+example. We shall return home to-morrow, so as to start taking in the
+harvest as soon as possible."
+
+"I am going to furnish you with still more matter for astonishment,"
+Morvan proceeded. "Instead of leaving the sheaves in the barn that the
+grain may ripen, this wheat that you see there, and that was cropped
+only to-day, will be threshed this very night. Vortigern and myself will
+not be the only ones to ply the flails on the threshing-floor of the
+barn. So, then, Noblede, let us have supper early, and then to work!"
+
+"What, Morvan!" exclaimed Josseline, "after this tiring day's work,
+spent in gathering in the crop, do you and Vortigern mean to spend the
+night at work, and threshing, at that?"
+
+"It will be a cheerful night, my Josseline," put in Vortigern. "While
+we shall be threshing the wheat, you will sing us some songs, Caswallan
+will recite to us some old legend, and we shall stave in a barrel of
+hydromel to cheer the laborers who have come to join us. Work goes hand
+in hand with pleasure."
+
+"Vortigern," the Christian druid said, smiling, "do you, perchance,
+think that my arms are so much enfeebled by old age that I could no
+longer wield a flail? I mean to help you at work."
+
+"And we?" put in Josseline, laughing merrily, "we, the daughters and
+wives of the field-laborers, did we, perchance, lose the skill of
+carrying the wheat to the threshing-floor, or of bagging the grain?"
+
+"And we?" Ewrag and his brother Rosneven cried in turn, "could not we
+also carry a stalk, six stalks, twenty stalks?"
+
+"Oh! you are brave boys, my little ones," exclaimed Vortigern, embracing
+his children, while Morvan said to his wife:
+
+"Noblede, do not forget to have the guest's chamber in order and
+supplied with food."
+
+"Do you expect any guests, Morvan?" inquired Josseline, with great
+curiosity. "They will be welcome; they will assist us at the threshing
+to-night."
+
+"My beloved Josseline," answered the Chief of the Chiefs, smiling, "the
+guests whom I expect eat the choicest of wheat, but never take the
+trouble of either sowing or harvesting. They belong to a class of people
+who live on the fat of the land."
+
+"The guest's chamber is always ready," replied Noblede; "the floor is
+strewn with fresh leaves. Alack! No one occupied it since it was last
+occupied by Amael."
+
+"Worthy grandfather!" exclaimed Vortigern with a sigh.
+
+"He came to us only to languish a few weeks and pass away."
+
+"May his memory be blessed, as was his life," said Josseline. "I knew
+him only a very short while, but I loved and venerated him like my
+father."
+
+The family of Morvan, together with the rest of his tribe who cultivated
+his lands in common with himself, men, women and children, about thirty
+in all, presently sat down to a long table, placed in a large hall that
+served at once for kitchen, refectory and a place of assembly during the
+long nights of the winter. From the walls hung weapons of war and of the
+hunt, fishing nets, bridles and horse saddles. Although it was
+midsummer, such was the coolness of that region of woods and mountains,
+that the heat of the hearth, before which the meats for the supper were
+broiled, felt decidedly comfortable to the harvesters. Its flamboyant
+light mingled with that cast by the torches of resinous wood, that were
+fastened in iron clamps along the four walls. After the industrious
+group had finished their repast, Morvan was the first to rise.
+
+"And now, my boys, to work! The night is clear, we shall thresh the
+wheat on the outside floor. Two or three torches planted between the
+stones on the edge of the well will give us light until the moon rises.
+We shall be through with our task by one o'clock in the morning, we
+shall sleep until daybreak, and we shall then return to the fields and
+finish taking in the crop."
+
+The torches, placed at Morvan's orders around the edge of the well, cast
+their bright light upon a portion of the yard and buildings that were
+within the fortified enclosure. Several men, the women and the children,
+took a hand in unloading the wagons, while those who were to do the
+threshing, Morvan, Vortigern and the old Caswallan among them, stood
+waiting for the grain to be brought to them, their flails in their
+hands, having for the sake of comfort, stripped themselves of all their
+superfluous clothing and keeping only their breeches and shirts on. The
+first bundles of grain were placed in the center of the floor, whereupon
+the rapid rhythm of the flails, vigorously wielded by robust and
+experienced arms, resounded through the air. Apprehending a speedy war,
+the Bretons were hastening to take in their crops and place them under
+cover in order to save them from the ravages of the enemy, as well as to
+deprive these of food. The grains were to be concealed in underground
+caves covered with earth. Morvan, whose forehead began to be moistened
+with perspiration, said, while rapidly handling the flail:
+
+"Caswallan, you promised us a song. Take a little rest and sing. It will
+inspire us in our work."
+
+The Christian druid sang "Lez-Breiz," an old national song that ever
+sounded sweet on the ears of the Bretons. It began thus:
+
+ "Between a Frankish warrior and Lez-Breiz
+ A combat was arranged;
+ It was arranged with due formalities.--
+ May God give the victory to the Breton,
+ And gladsome tidings to his county.--
+ That day Lez-Breiz said to his young attendant:
+ Rise, furbish up my handsome casque; my lance and my sword;
+ I mean to redden them in the blood of the Franks.--
+ I shall make them jump this day!"
+
+"Old Caswallan," said one of the laborers when the druid had finished
+the long and inspiring strain that warmed the blood of his hearers with
+martial ardor, "let the accursed Franks come again, and we shall say,
+like Lez-Breiz: 'With the aid of our two arms, let us make them jump
+again to-day'--"
+
+A furious barking of the shepherd dogs, that for some little time had
+been emitting low and intermittent growls, interrupted at this moment
+the remarks of the laborers, and all turned their eyes towards the gate
+of the enclosure, whither the dogs had precipitated themselves
+furiously.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+ABBOT AND BRETON.
+
+
+The strangers whose approach the dogs announced were Abbot Witchaire,
+his two monks and his guide Karouer. Preceded by the guide, who pacified
+the alarm of the watchful animals, the clerical cavalcade rode into the
+enclosure, while Karouer informed the abbot:
+
+"This is the house of Morvan. We have arrived at our destination. You
+may now dismount."
+
+"What are those torches yonder for?" asked the prelate descending from
+his horse, the reins of which he threw over to one of his monks. "What
+is that muffled sound I hear?"
+
+"It is the sound of the flails. Doubtlessly Morvan is threshing the
+grain that he has harvested. Come, I shall lead you to him."
+
+Abbot Witchaire and his guide approached the group of laborers, upon
+whom the torches cast a clear light. Morvan, intently at work, and the
+noise of the flails deafening the sound of the steps and voices of the
+new arrivals, failed to hear them. Not until Karouer had tapped the
+Chief of the Chiefs upon the shoulder in order to draw the latter's
+attention to him, did Morvan turn to look. Recognizing Karouer, the
+Chief of the Chiefs stopped a moment and said:
+
+"Oh! Is that you, Karouer? What tidings do you bring from our man?"
+
+"I bring him to you in person," answered Karouer, pointing to his
+traveling companion. "He stands before you in flesh and bone."
+
+"Are you the Abbot Witchaire?" asked Morvan, slightly out of breath with
+the heavy work that he had been performing; and crossing his robust arms
+over the handle of his flail, he added: "As I expected your visit, I
+have had supper prepared for you. Come to table."
+
+"I prefer first to speak to you."
+
+"Noblede," said Morvan, wiping the perspiration that inundated his
+forehead with the back of his hand, "a torch, my dear wife!" And turning
+to the abbot: "Follow me."
+
+Taking up one of the torches that were stuck at the edge of the well,
+Noblede preceded her husband and Abbot Witchaire to the chamber that was
+reserved for guests. Two large beds stood ready, as also a big table
+furnished with cold meats, milk, bread and fruit. After placing the
+torch into one of the iron clamps fastened in the wall, Noblede was
+about to withdraw when Morvan said to her in a significant tone:
+
+"Dear wife, come and kiss me good night when the threshing is done."
+
+A look from Noblede informed her husband that he was understood, and she
+stepped out of the guest's chamber where Morvan remained alone with
+Abbot Witchaire. The abbot immediately addressed the Chief of the
+Chiefs:
+
+"Morvan, I greet you. I am the bearer to you of a message from the King
+of the Franks, Louis the Pious, son of Charles the Great."
+
+"And what is that message?"
+
+"It is couched in but few words:--The Bretons occupy a province of the
+Empire of the King of the Franks, and refuse to pay him tribute in
+homage to his sovereignty. Besides, the Breton clergy, generally
+infected with a leaven of old druidic idolatry, denies the supremacy of
+the Archbishop of Tours. Such are the consequences of that regrettable
+heresy, of which Lambert, Count of Nantes, wrote to King Louis the Pious
+as follows: 'The Breton nation is proud and indomitable; all that there
+is Christian about them is the name; as to the Christian faith, its cult
+and works, they would be searched for in vain in Brittany.' Wishing to
+put an end to a rebellion so outrageous both to the Catholic Church and
+the royal authority, King Louis the Pious orders the Breton people to
+pay the tribute that they owe to the sovereignty of the Frankish Empire,
+and to submit themselves to the apostolic decisions of the Archbishop of
+Tours. In case of failure to comply, King Louis the Pious will, by means
+of his invincible arms, ruin the country and compel the obedience of the
+Breton people."
+
+"Abbot Witchaire," Morvan answered after a few moments' reflection,
+"Amael, the grandfather of Vortigern, my wife's brother, entered into an
+agreement with the Emperor Charles to the effect that, provided we held
+ourselves within our own borders, there never would be any war between
+us and the Franks. We kept our promise, so did Charles. His son, whom
+you call 'The Pious,' has not troubled us until now. If to-day he
+demands tribute from us, he violates the provisions of the compact."
+
+"Louis the Pious is King by divine right, sovereign master of Gaul.
+Brittany is part of Gaul, consequently Brittany belongs to him and must
+pay him tribute."
+
+"We will pay tribute to no king. As to what regards the clergy, I have
+this to say to you: Before their arrival in Brittany the country never
+was invaded. Since a century ago, all that has changed. It was to be
+expected. Whoever sees the black robe of a priest, soon sees the glint
+of a Frank's sword."
+
+"You speak truly. The Catholic priest is everywhere the precursor of
+royalty."
+
+"We now have but too many of these precursors. Despite their continuous
+quarrels with the Archbishop of Tours, the good priests are rare, the
+bad ones numerous. At the time of the last war, several of your
+churchmen acted as guides to the Franks, while others seduced some of
+our tribes into treason by making them believe that to resist your kings
+was to incur the anger of heaven. Despite such acts of treason, we
+defended our liberty then; we will defend it again both against the
+machinations of the clergy and the swords of the Franks."
+
+"Morvan, you look like a sensible man. Is it proposed to enslave you?
+No! To dispossess you of your lands? No! What is it that Louis the Pious
+demands? Merely that you pay him tribute in homage to his sovereignty.
+Nothing more!"
+
+"That is too much--and it is iniquitous!"
+
+"Consider the frightful misfortunes to which Brittany will expose
+herself if she refuses to acknowledge the sovereignty of Louis the
+Pious. Can you prefer to see your fields laid waste, your crops
+destroyed, your cattle led away, your own house torn down, your fellows
+reduced to slavery--can you prefer that to the voluntary payment of a
+few gold sous contributed by you into the treasury of the King of the
+Franks?"
+
+"I certainly would prefer to pay even twenty gold sous, rather than be
+ruined."
+
+"It is not merely your own earthly possessions that are at stake. You
+have a wife, a family, friends. Would you, out of vain pride, expose so
+many beings, dear to your heart, to the horrible dangers of war, of a
+war of extermination, of a war without mercy, all the more when, as you
+must admit, you can no longer find in the Breton people the indomitable
+spirit that once was its distinctive feature?"
+
+"No," answered Morvan with a somber and pensive mien, his elbows resting
+on his knees and his forehead hidden in his hands; "no, the Breton
+people are no longer what they once were."
+
+"To my mind, the change is one of the triumphs of the Catholic Church.
+In your eyes it is an evil. But, if evil it be, it is a fact, and you
+are bound to recognize it. Brittany, once invincible, has been several
+times invaded by the Franks during the last century. What has happened
+before will happen again. And yet, notwithstanding the mistrust that you
+entertain of your own powers of resistance, notwithstanding the
+certainty of succumbing, could you still wish to engage in the struggle
+in lieu of paying a tribute that curtails in nothing, either your own
+liberty or that of your people?"
+
+Shaken by the insidious arguments of the priest, Morvan remained silent
+for a moment; after a short struggle with himself, he asked: "How high
+will be the tribute that your King demands?"
+
+Witchaire thrilled with joy at Morvan's question. He concluded the
+Breton had decided in favor of base submission. At that juncture Noblede
+entered the apartment to give her husband the good-night kiss. At sight
+of her the Breton blushed. He allowed his wife to approach him without
+affectionately advancing to meet her, as was his wont. The Breton woman
+almost guessed the cause of the embarrassed manner of Morvan, and of the
+triumphant looks of the Frankish abbot. Concealing her grief, the woman
+walked to her husband, who remained seated, and kissed his hand. A
+tremor shook the Breton chief's frame; his will, shaken for a moment,
+regained its own command; he leaped up and passionately clasped his wife
+to his breast. Happy and proud at feeling the throbbing of her own heart
+answered by her husband's, the Gallic woman cried, casting a look of
+contempt at the priest:
+
+"Whence comes this stranger? What does he want? Is he a messenger of
+peace or of war? Race of priests, race of vipers."
+
+"This monk is sent by the King of the Franks," answered the Breton
+chief; "I do not yet know whether he brings peace or war."
+
+Noblede looked at her husband with increasing astonishment, when the
+abbot, considering the moment favorable to obtain the desired answer
+from Morvan, said:
+
+"I am to return immediately. What answer shall I carry to Louis the
+Pious?"
+
+"You cannot resume your journey without taking some rest," Noblede
+hastened to observe, while, with her eyes, she interrogated her husband,
+who seemed to have relapsed into incertitude. "It will be time enough to
+depart early in the morning. Remain here over night to recover your
+strength."
+
+"No, no!" exclaimed the abbot with impatience, fearing the influence of
+the Gallic woman upon her husband. "I return immediately. Shall I take
+to Louis the Pious words of peace or of war? I must have a categoric
+answer."
+
+The Breton chief, however, rose from his seat, and walking towards the
+door of the apartment answered Witchaire:
+
+"I shall use the few remaining hours of the night to think the matter
+over; to-morrow you will have my answer." Saying this, and despite the
+insistence of the abbot upon an immediate answer, Morvan left the
+guest's room, accompanied by Noblede.
+
+A few minutes later, Morvan, his wife, Vortigern and Caswallan,
+assembled at a secluded spot, under the spreading branches of a tall oak
+tree not far from the house, to consider the subject of Abbot
+Witchaire's errand to Brittany.
+
+"What does this messenger of the King of the Franks want?" asked
+Vortigern of Morvan.
+
+"If we consent to pay tribute to Louis the Pious and to recognize him as
+our sovereign, we shall escape an implacable war. I know not what answer
+to make. I hesitate before the prospect of the disasters that will
+attend a new struggle--the massacres, the fires."
+
+"Hesitate! Yield to threats!"
+
+"Brother," answered Morvan with deep sadness, "the Breton people are no
+longer what they once were."
+
+"You are right!" put in Caswallan. "The breath of the Catholic Church,
+so deadly to the freedom of the people, has passed over this unhappy
+country also. The patriotism of a large number of our tribes has cooled.
+But, on the other hand, should you consent to submit to a shameful
+peace, then Brittany will be peopled with slaves before a century shall
+have rolled away."
+
+"Brother," added Vortigern, "would you yield to threats, instead of
+reviving the spirit of Brittany in a sacred war against the foreigner?
+That would be to debase ourselves forever! To-day we would pay tribute
+to the king of the Franks, in order to avoid a war; to-morrow we would
+have to yield to him one-half of our patrimony, in order that he may
+allow us to retain the rest; after that we would have to submit to
+slavery with all its degradation and wretchedness, in order to be
+allowed to preserve our lives. The chain will have been riveted to our
+limbs, and our children will have to drag it during all the centuries to
+come!"
+
+"Unhappy Brittany!" exclaimed Noblede. "Have we fallen so low as to
+begin to measure the length of our chains? Look at these three brave,
+wise and tried men, wasting their time in discussing the insolence of a
+Frankish king! There is but one word you can answer with--WAR! Oh,
+degenerate Gauls! Eight centuries ago, Caesar, the greatest captain of
+the world, and at the head of a formidable army, also sent messengers to
+summon Brittany to pay him tribute. The Roman messengers were answered
+with a beating, and chased with contempt out of the city of Vannes. That
+same evening, Hena, our ancestress, offered her blood to Hesus for the
+deliverance of Gaul, and the cry of war resounded from one end of the
+country to the other! Albinik the sailor, together with his wife Meroe,
+performed a journey of more than twenty leagues across the most fertile
+regions of Gaul, but then burnt down by a conflagration that the people
+themselves had kindled. Caesar saw before him only a waste of
+smouldering ruins, and on the day of the battle of Vannes our whole
+family--women and young girls, children and old men--fought or died like
+heroes! Oh! These ancestors of ours worried their heads little about the
+'dangers of battle'! To live free or die--such was their simple faith,
+and they sealed it with their blood, and winged their flight to those
+unknown worlds where they continue to live!"
+
+Noblede was addressing Morvan, Vortigern and Caswallan in these terms,
+when the abbot, who had left his apartment and inquired after Morvan
+from the people about the house, approached the oak under which the
+Breton family was in council. Although the moon was shining in all her
+splendor, the first glimmerings of the dawn, always early in the end of
+August, already began to crimson the horizon.
+
+"Morvan," said Abbot Witchaire, "day is about to dawn. I can wait no
+longer. What is your answer to the messenger of Louis the Pious?"
+
+"Priest, my answer will not burden your memory: RETURN AND TELL THE KING
+THAT WE WILL PAY HIM TRIBUTE--IN IRON."
+
+"You want war! Very well, you shall have it without mercy or pity!"
+cried the abbot furiously, and leaping on his horse which the monks held
+ready for him he added, turning again to the Chief of the Chiefs:
+"Brittany will be laid waste with fire and sword! Not a house will be
+left standing! The last day of this people has arrived!"
+
+As the priest uttered these words, his gestures seemed to call down
+curses and anathemas upon the Breton chief. Angrily putting the spurs to
+his horse and followed by the two monks, the prelate rode rapidly away.
+
+The abbot had hardly been a quarter of an hour on the road, when he
+heard the gallop of an approaching horse behind him. Turning, he saw a
+rider coming towards him at full speed. It was Vortigern. The abbot drew
+in his reins, yielding to a last ray of hope. "May your coming be
+propitious. Morvan regrets, I hope, the insensate resolution that he
+took?"
+
+"Morvan regrets that in your hurry you and your two monks should have
+departed without a guide. You might easily lose your way in our
+mountains. I am to accompany you as far as the city of Guenhek. There I
+shall furnish you with a safe guide for the rest of the journey; he will
+take you to our frontiers."
+
+"Young man, you are, I am told, the brother of Morvan's wife. I conjure
+you, in the name of the safety of Brittany, to endeavor to change the
+insensate and fatal resolution of this man who happens to be the chief
+of your nation."
+
+"Monk, the fires lighted last night on our mountains, and which, no
+doubt, you must have seen, were the signals of alarm, given to our
+tribes to prepare for war. Your King wants war--let his will be done.
+But, now, answer me a question. You come from the court at
+Aix-la-Chapelle. Could you tell me what has become of the daughters of
+the Emperor Charles?"
+
+The abbot cast a look of surprise at Vortigern: "What is it to you what
+may have become of the Emperor's daughters?"
+
+"It is now about eight years ago that I accompanied my grandfather to
+Aix-la-Chapelle. I there saw the daughters of Charles. That is the
+reason for my curiosity concerning them."
+
+"The daughters of Charles have been consigned to nunneries by order of
+their brother, Louis the Pious,"[D] was the sententious answer of
+Witchaire. "May they, by dint of repentance, merit the pardon of heaven
+for their past and abominable libertinage."
+
+"And Thetralde, the youngest of Charles' daughters, did she share the
+fate of her sisters?"
+
+"Thetralde died long ago."
+
+"She died!" exclaimed Vortigern, unable to conceal his emotion. "Poor
+child! So beautiful--and to die so young!"
+
+"She, at least, never gave Charles cause to blush."
+
+"And what was the cause of the death of that child? Could you tell me?"
+
+"It is not known. Up to her fifteenth year she enjoyed a nourishing
+health. Suddenly she began to languish, grew ill, and barely in her
+sixteenth year, her light went out, in the arms of her father, who never
+ceased weeping for her. But this is quite enough about the daughters of
+Charles the Great. Once more, will you or will you not, endeavor to
+cause Morvan to abandon a resolution that can have for its only effect
+the ruin of this country? You are silent--do you refuse?"
+
+Absorbed in the thoughts that the fate of the ill-starred Thetralde had
+started in his mind, Vortigern remained mute and melancholy. His
+thoughts flew to the young girl who died so young, and the touching
+remembrance of whom had long remained alive with him. Impatient at the
+prolonged silence of the Breton, the abbot put his hand on Vortigern's
+shoulder, and repeated his question:
+
+"I ask you, yes or no, will you endeavor to cause Morvan to renounce his
+insensate resolution?"
+
+"Your King wants war; he shall have war."
+
+And Vortigern, relapsing into his own meditations, rode silently beside
+Witchaire until the two reached the city of Guenhek. There Vortigern
+entrusted the guidance of the abbot to an experienced guide, and while
+the messenger of Louis the Pious proceeded towards the frontier of
+Brittany, the brother of Noblede hastened back and rejoined his wife
+Josseline at the house of Morvan.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE DEFILE OF GLEN-CLAN.
+
+
+The defile of Glen-Clan is the only practicable passage across the last
+links of the Black Mountains--a mountain chain that constitutes a
+veritable girdle of granite as a natural protection to the heart of
+Brittany. The defile of Glen-Clan is so narrow that a wagon can barely
+thread it; it is so steep that six yoke of oxen are barely able to drag
+a wagon up its craggy incline, from the top of which a stone of
+considerable size would roll rapidly down to the bottom of the pass--a
+pass cut, like the bed of a mountain torrent, at the feet of immense
+rocks that rise on either side perpendicular over a hundred feet in the
+air.
+
+A distant rumbling noise, confused at first, and becoming more and more
+distinct as it draws nearer and nearer, disturbs one day, shortly after
+the angry departure of Abbot Witchaire from Brittany, the otherwise
+profound silence of the solitude. By little and little the dull tramp of
+cavalry is distinguished; presently also the clanking of iron arms upon
+iron armor, and finally the rythmic tread of large troops of foot
+soldiers, the lumbering of wagon wheels jolting upon the stony ground,
+the neighing of horses and the bellowing of yoke-oxen. All these various
+sounds draw nearer, grow louder, and are finally blended into one steady
+roar. They announce the approach of an army corps of considerable
+proportions. Suddenly the mournful and prolonged cry of a night bird is
+heard from the crest of the rocks that overhang the defile. Other
+similar, but more distant cries answer the first signal, like an echo
+that loses itself in the distance. Silence ensues thereupon--except for
+the tumultuous din of the advancing army corps. A small troop appears at
+the entrance of the tortuous passage; a monk on horseback guides the
+scouting party. At the monk's side rides a warrior of tall stature, clad
+in rich armor. His white buckler, on which three eagle's talons are
+designed, hangs to one side from the pommel of his saddle, while an iron
+mace dangles from the other. Behind the Frankish chief ride several
+cavalrymen accompanied by about a score of Saxon archers,
+distinguishable by their long quivers.
+
+"Hugh," says the chief of the warriors to one of his men, "take with you
+two horsemen, and let five or six archers precede you to make certain
+that there is no ambush to fear. At the slightest sign of an attack fall
+back upon us and give the alarm. I do not wish to entangle the gross of
+my troop in this defile without the necessary precautions."
+
+Hugh obeys his chief. The little vanguard quickens its step and soon
+disappears beyond one of the windings of the pass.
+
+"Neroweg, the measure is wise," observes the monk. "One could not
+advance with too much precaution into this accursed country of Brittany,
+where I have lived long enough to know that it is extremely dangerous."
+
+"At the end of this defile, I am told, we enter upon even ground."
+
+"Yes, but before that we shall have to cross the marsh of Peulven and
+the forest of Cardik; we then arrive at the vast moor of Kennor, the
+rendezvous of the two other armed bodies of Louis the Pious, who are
+marching to that point across the river Vilaine and over the defile of
+Mount Orock, as we are to penetrate through this one. Morvan will be
+attacked from three sides, and will not be able to resist our forces."
+
+"I marvel that so important a pass as this is not defended."
+
+"I furnished you the reason when I delivered to you Morvan's plan of
+campaign, that was forwarded to me by Kervor, a pious Catholic who came
+over to the Frankish side and submitted to the authority of our King. He
+is the chief of the southern tribes whose territory we have just
+crossed."
+
+"I loved to see those people so docile to the priests; they furnished us
+with supplies, and at your voice knelt down as we passed."
+
+"At the time of the other wars you would have dropped fully one-half of
+your troops in this region so cut up with bogs, hedges and woods. The
+change between now and then is great. The Catholic faith penetrates
+little by little these people, formerly so intractable. We have preached
+to them submission to Louis the Pious, and menaced them with the fires
+of hell if they attempted to resist your arms."
+
+"Indeed, more than one of the troopers of the old bands who fought here
+at the time of Charles the Great, have told me they could no longer
+recognize the Bretons, who, in their days, were almost invincible. But
+for all your explanations, monk, I cannot understand how this pass comes
+to be abandoned."
+
+"And yet nothing is simpler. According to his plan of campaign, Morvan
+counted with the resistance of the tribes that we have just crossed. In
+one day, without drawing your sword, you have cleared a track that would
+otherwise have cost you three days' hard fighting, and a fourth of your
+troops. Morvan, never apprehending your early arrival at the defile of
+Glen-Clan, will not think of having it occupied until this evening, or
+to-morrow. He has not enough forces at his disposal to place them where
+they would lie idle while he himself is being attacked from two other
+sides by as many army corps."
+
+"To that argument I have nothing to say, my father in Christ, you know
+the country better than I. If this war succeeds, I shall have my share
+of the conquered territory; and, according to the promise of Louis the
+Pious, I shall become a powerful seigneur in Brittany, as my elder
+brother, Gonthran, is in Auvergne."
+
+"And you will not forget to endow the Church."
+
+"I shall not be ungrateful to the priests, good father. I shall employ a
+part of the booty in building a chapel to St. Martin, for whom our
+family has ever entertained a particular devotion. Could you, who are
+well acquainted with the customs of the Bretons, tell me what corners
+they hide their money in? It is claimed that they remove all their
+treasures when they are forced to flee from their houses, and that they
+bury them in inaccessible hiding places. Is that so?"
+
+"When we shall have arrived in the heart of the country, I shall
+acquaint you with the means to discover those treasures, which are,
+almost always, concealed at the foot of certain druid stones, for which
+these pagans preserve an idolatrous reverence."
+
+"But where shall we find those stones? By what signs are they to be
+recognized?"
+
+"That is my secret, Neroweg. It will become _ours_ after we shall have
+reached the heart of the country."
+
+Thus conversing, the monk and the Frankish chief slowly ascend the
+craggy slope of the defile. From time to time, some of the horsemen, or
+foot soldiers, detached as scouts, ride back to acquaint Neroweg with
+their observations. Finally, Hugh himself returns and informs his master
+that there is nothing to cause any apprehension on the score of an
+ambuscade. Completely reassured by these reports, and by the
+explanations of the monk, Neroweg gives the order for the advance of his
+troops, the footmen first, the horsemen next, then the baggage, and last
+of all a rear corps of foot soldiers.
+
+The army corps breaks up and enters the pass that is so narrow as to
+allow a passage to only four men abreast. The long and winding column of
+men covered with iron, crowded together, and moving slowly, presents a
+strange spectacle from the top of the rocks that dominate the narrow
+route. It might be taken for some gigantic serpent with iron scales,
+deploying its sinuous folds in a ravine cut between two walls of
+granite. The misgivings of the Franks, somewhat alarmed when they first
+began threading their way through a passage so propitious to an ambush,
+are presently removed and make place for unquestioning confidence.
+Already the vanguard that precedes Neroweg and the monk is drawing near
+the issue of the defile, while at the other end the baggage wagons,
+drawn by oxen, begin to set themselves in motion followed by the rear
+guard that consists of Thuringian horsemen and Saxon archers. The last
+wagons and the rear guard have barely entered the defile, when suddenly
+the lugubrious cry of the night bird, resembling that which had greeted
+the first arrival of the Frankish army, resounds again, and is echoed
+from peak to peak, along the whole length of the overtopping rocks.
+Immediately thereupon, pushed by invisible arms, several enormous
+boulders detach themselves from the surrounding rocks that an instant
+before seemed a solid part of themselves, roll and bound with the rattle
+of thunder from the top of the crest down to the foot of the mountain,
+and fall crashing upon the wagons, crushing a large number of soldiers
+to death, mutilating many more and disabling the train. In their
+paroxysms of death, or rendered furious by their wounds, the oxen crowd
+upon or roll over one another, and throw the rear guard of the Franks
+into such frightful disorder that it is wholly unable to make another
+step in advance; it is cut off from the gross of the troops by the
+lumber in its way; it is reduced to utter impotence. All along the rest
+of the length of the defile of Glen-Clan the Franks are in similar
+plight. All along the line, fragments of rocks roll down from the
+overtopping crests, crushing and decimating the compact mass of soldiers
+below. The gigantic serpent of iron is mutilated, cut into bleeding
+sections; it writhes convulsively at the bottom of the ravine, while
+from the summits on either side, now crowned with a swarm of Bretons,
+who kept themselves until then concealed, a hailstorm of arrows,
+boar-spears and stones rains down upon the bewildered, panic-stricken
+and impotent Frankish cohorts, caught and hemmed in between the two
+granite walls, from whose tops our men deal prompt and unavoidable death
+to their invaders. Vortigern is in command of these resolute and
+watchful Bretons. His bow in one hand, his quiver by his side, not one
+of his bolts misses its mark.
+
+The butchery is frightful! The carnage superb! The Gallic war-songs and
+cries of triumph from above answer the imprecations of the Franks from
+below. A frightful butchery!
+
+A superb carnage! It lasts as long as our men have a stone to throw, a
+bolt or a spear to hurl at the foe. His own, and the munitions of his
+companions being exhausted, Vortigern cries down from the summit of the
+rocks to the frantic Franks below, accompanying the cry with a gesture
+of defiance:
+
+"We will thus defend our soil, inch by inch; every step you take will be
+marked by your blood or our own; all our tribes are not like those of
+Kervor!"
+
+Saying this, Vortigern struck up the martial song of his ancestor
+Schanvoch:
+
+ "This morning we asked:
+ 'How many are there of these Franks?
+ How many are there of these barbarians?'
+ This evening we say:
+ 'How many were there of these Franks?
+ How many were there of these barbarians?'"[E]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE MARSH OF PEULVEN.
+
+
+Vast is the marsh of Peulven. To the east and the south its shape is
+like a bay. From that side its edges are bordered by the skirts of the
+dense forest of Cardik. To the north and west, it waters the gentle
+slopes of the hills that succeed upon the last spurs of the Black
+Mountains, whose tops, empurpled by the rays of the westering sun, rise
+in the distant horizon. A jetty, or tongue of land that runs into the
+edge of the forest, traverses the marsh through its whole length.
+Silence is profound in this desert place. The stagnant waters reflect
+the inflamed tints of the ruddy twilight. From time to time flocks of
+curlews, herons and other aquatic birds, rise from amidst the reeds that
+cover the marsh in spots, hover about and fly upward, emitting their
+plaintive cries. Several Frankish horsemen appear from the side of the
+mountain. They climb the hill, reach its top, and rein in their horses.
+They sweep the marsh with their eyes, examine it for a moment, then turn
+their horses' heads and ride back to join Neroweg and the monk, whose
+forces, decimated shortly before in the defile of Glen-Clan, have been
+subsequently harassed without let on their further march by little
+Breton bands, who, placed in ambush behind hedges, or in ditches covered
+with dry wood, unexpectedly fell upon either the vanguard or the rear
+guard of the Franks, and, after bloody encounters, again vanished in
+that region so interspersed with obstacles of all sorts, impracticable
+for cavalry, and with which the Frankish foot soldiers are so utterly
+unfamiliar that they ventured not to separate themselves from the main
+column, ever fearing to fall into some fresh ambush. On horseback behind
+the monk, Neroweg stands on the summit of a hill not far behind the one
+that the scouts have just ascended. He awaits their return in order to
+continue his march. The vanguard has halted at a little distance from
+the chief. Further away rest the bulk of his troops. A small detachment
+of the rear guard was ordered to take its stand about a league further
+back in order to guard the baggage, the wagons and the wounded of the
+sorely harassed army.
+
+The lines on the face of the Frankish chief denote deep concern. He says
+to the monk:
+
+"What a war! What a war! I have fought against the Northmans, when they
+attacked our fortified camps at the confluence of the Somme and the
+Seine. Those accursed pirates are terrible foes. They are as dashing in
+attack as they are cautious in retreat, and they ever find a safe
+shelter in the light craft in which they come over the seas of the North
+as far south as Gaul. But by St. Martin! these accursed Bretons are
+fuller of the devil, and harder to get at than even the pirates! They
+were a source of trouble to Charles the great Emperor; they have become
+the desolation of his son!" And Neroweg repeats dejectedly: "What a war!
+What a war!"
+
+The monk turns upon his saddle, and stretching out his hand in the
+direction traversed by the Frankish troop, says to Neroweg:
+
+"Look toward the west!"
+
+Turning his eyes in the direction indicated by the priest, the Frankish
+chief notices behind him tall columns of ruddy smoke rising at intervals
+from the hills that the army has left behind it. "Look yonder!
+Everywhere a conflagration marks our passage. The burgs and villages,
+abandoned by the fleeing inhabitants, have, at my orders, been delivered
+to the flames. The Bretons have not, like the Northman pirates, the
+resource of vessels on which to flee with their booty back to the ocean.
+We are driving the fleeing population before us. The two other army
+corps of Louis the Pious are, from their side, following similar
+tactics. Accordingly, we and they will meet to-morrow morning at the
+village of Lokfern. There we will find, driven back and heaped together,
+the populations that have been attacked from the south, the east and the
+north during these last days. There, surrounded by a circle of iron,
+they will be either annihilated or reduced to slavery! Ah! This time
+without fail, Brittany, never before overcome, will be subjected to the
+Catholic Church and to the power of the Franks. What if your soldiers
+have been decimated in the struggle for the triumph of the faith and
+royalty! The troops that you still have, will, when joined to the other
+army corps, suffice to exterminate the Bretons!"
+
+"Monk," answers Neroweg impatiently, "your words do not console me for
+the death of so many brave Frankish warriors whose bones have been left
+to bleach in the defile of Glen-Clan and on the hills of this accursed
+country!"
+
+"Rather envy their fate. They have died for religion; they are now in
+paradise, in the midst of a chorus of seraphim."
+
+Neroweg shrugs his shoulders with an air of incredulity, and after a
+moment of silence proceeds: "You promised to point out to me where
+these pagans conceal their treasures."
+
+"On the other side of the marsh of Peulven which we are now to traverse,
+lies a vast forest in which a large number of druid stones are found.
+Have the earth removed at their foot, and you will find large sums of
+money in silver and gold, and many precious articles that have been
+hidden there since the beginning of the war."
+
+"When will we arrive at that forest?"
+
+"This evening before nightfall."
+
+"I do not wish to risk my troops in that forest, and fall into another
+ambush like the one of the defile!" cries Neroweg. "The day is drawing
+to its close. We shall encamp to-night in the midst of the bare hills
+where we now are, and where no surprise is to be feared."
+
+"Here are your scouts back," observes the monk to the Frankish chief.
+"Interrogate them before you make up your mind definitely."
+
+"Neroweg," reports one of the riders who had scouted to the edge of the
+marsh, "as far as the eye reaches, nothing is seen on the marsh; there
+is no sign of any men; there is not a boat in sight. On the shores there
+is not a single hut, and there is no evidence of any entrenchment."
+
+Impatient to judge by himself of the nature of the field, the Frankish
+chief, followed by the monk, immediately rides forward and reaches the
+top of the hill shortly before occupied by the scouts. From the eminence
+Neroweg beholds a vast expanse of marshy ground in whose numerous pools
+of stagnant water the last rays of the sinking sun are mirrored. The
+jetty, covered with sward and lined with a thick fringe of reeds,
+reaches clear to the other side, and is lost on the edge of the forest.
+"There is not the slightest fear of an ambush in crossing this
+solitude," says Neroweg with visible mental relief. "The march across
+can only take up half an hour, at the most."
+
+"We have about an hour more of daylight left us," observes the monk.
+"The forest you see yonder is called the forest of Cardik. It stretches
+far away to the right and left of the marsh, seeing that, towards the
+west, it reaches the borders of the Armorican Sea. But that portion of
+the forest that faces the jetty is at the utmost a quarter of a league
+long. We could easily put it behind us before night, and we would then
+be on the moor of Kennor, an immense plain where you could encamp in
+absolute security. To-morrow at daybreak if it should please you, we can
+ride back into the forest and rummage at the foot of the druid stones
+for the treasures hidden there by the Bretons. Glory to your arms, and
+may the booty be large!"
+
+After a few minutes of hesitation, Neroweg, tempted by cupidity, sends a
+man of his escort to give to his troops the order to march and traverse
+the jetty, a narrow walk of about three feet wide, perfectly even,
+covered with thin grass, and lying in plain view from one end to the
+other. Neroweg feels easy in mind. Nevertheless, remembering the rocks
+of Glen-Clan, he prudently orders several horsemen to precede the troops
+by about a hundred paces. Marching behind their chief, Neroweg's troops
+begin to defile along the jetty, which soon is covered with soldiers
+from end to end. Massed from the foot to the top of the hill, behind the
+advancing column, are the last detachments of Neroweg's army. They break
+ranks as fast as it is their turn to enter upon the passage.
+
+Suddenly, from the midst of the clumps of reeds that rise at irregular
+intervals along the length of the tongue of land, the cry of
+night-birds goes up--cries identical with those that had resounded from
+the summits of Glen-Clan. Upon the signal, the muffled sounds of rapid
+hatchet strokes are heard. They teem to be the answer given to the cries
+of the night-birds. Instantly the seemingly solid walk sinks at scores
+of places under the feet of the marching soldiers. Woe is those who
+happen to find themselves over these hidden traps, that are constructed
+of wooden beams and strong chains concealed under a layer of sward! The
+scheme, devised by Vortigern, proves successful. The movable bridges
+can, at will, either support the weight of the troops that march over
+them, or tip over under their tread, by the dexterous knocking from
+under the loose boards the wooden pegs that are their only support.
+
+Plunged in the water up to their necks, Vortigern and a large number of
+stout-hearted men of his tribe have held themselves motionless, mute and
+invisible in the center of the clumps of reeds that border the jetty
+near each of the traps. When the jetty is entirely covered with Frankish
+soldiers, the hatchets are, at a signal, plied with energy; the pegs
+drop out; and the passage is suddenly cut up by scores of gaps twenty
+feet wide. Pell-mell foot soldiers, cavalrymen and their horses tumble
+to the bottom of these suddenly opened ditches, and are received
+thereupon by the sharp points of piles providently sunk at the bottom.
+
+At the sight of these death-dealing traps, suddenly gaping before them
+at their feet, and at the sound of the wild cries and imprecations
+uttered by the wounded and by those who are being pushed forward into
+the abysses by the crowding ranks behind, a tremendous disorder,
+followed by a panic, spreads among the Franks. Fearing the path to be
+everywhere undermined, the soldiers crowd back and forward upon one
+another in a frenzy of despair. The frightened horses rear, tumble down,
+or rush furiously into the marsh where they vanish together with their
+riders. The confusion and rout being at its height, the Bretons rise
+from their places of concealment among the reeds, and hurl promiscuously
+a shower of bolts upon the confused heaps of soldiers, now rendered
+insane with fear, and in their panic either trampling upon one another,
+or themselves being trampled upon by their uncontrollable steeds. Other
+war-crys respond from a distance to the war-cries struck up by Vortigern
+and his men. A troop of Bretons issues from the forest and ranks itself
+in battle array at the border of the marsh ready to dispute the passage
+if the Franks dare to attempt it The sight of these fresh foes carries
+the panic of Neroweg's troops to its acme. Instead of marching onward
+towards the edge of the forest, the front rank faces about, anxious only
+to join the body of the army that still finds itself massed at the
+entrance of the fatal causeway. The rush is effected with such fury that
+the deep trenches are speedily filled with the bodies of a mass of
+wounded, dead and dying warriors. The heaped-up corpses soon serve as a
+bridge to the fleeing Franks, whose rear the Breton bolts assail
+unpityingly. At the spectacle of the routed Franks, Vortigern and his
+braves strike up anew the war song with which they had assailed the ears
+of the distracted Franks at the defile of Glen-Clan:
+
+ "This morning we asked:
+ 'How many are there of these Franks?
+ How many are there of these barbarians?'
+ This evening we say:
+ 'How many were there of these Franks?
+ How many were there of these barbarians?'
+ Victory and Glory to Hesus!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE FOREST OF CARDIK.
+
+
+"What a war! What a war!" exclaim the warriors of Louis the Pious,
+leaving at every step some of their companions behind among the rocks
+and the marshes of Armorica. "Every hedge of the fields, every ditch in
+the valleys conceals a Breton of steady eye and hand. The stone of the
+sling, the arrow of the bow whiz everywhere through the air, nor miss
+their aim. The pits of the precipices, and the bottoms of the stagnant
+waters swallow up the bodies of our soldiers. If we penetrate into the
+forests, the danger redoubles. Every copse, the branches of every tree,
+conceal an enemy!"
+
+Neroweg, having barely escaped with his life from the disaster of the
+marsh of Peulven, spends the night upon the hill with the remaining
+fragment of his army. At early dawn the next morning he orders the
+trumpets and clarions to call his men to their ranks. At the head of his
+warriors he again steps upon the narrow jetty of the marsh. He is
+determined to force his way into the forest of Cardik. Footmen and
+horses again trample over the heaped-up corpses in the wide trenches. No
+ambush now retards the passage of the Franks. By sunrise the last
+detachments have crossed the marsh, and all the forces still at the
+command of Neroweg are deployed along the skirts of the forest that is
+now serving as a retreat to the Gauls of Armorica, and where they have
+taken their next stand.
+
+The primeval forest extends, towards the west, as far as the steep banks
+of a river that runs into the sea, and towards the east, up to a chain
+of precipitous hills. Furious at the defeat he suffered on the previous
+evening, the Frankish chief is hardly able to restrain his ardor. Always
+accompanied by the monk, he advances into the forest. The oaks, the
+elms, the ash trees, the birch trees, raise their gigantic trunks and
+interlace their spreading branches. Between these trunks, all is
+underwood, bramble and briar. Only one narrow and tortuous path presents
+itself to Neroweg's sight. He enters it. Daylight barely penetrates the
+walk through the dense vault of verdure, shaped overhead by the foliage
+of the stately trees. Thickets of holly seven or eight feet high fringe
+the way. Their prickly leaves render them impenetrable.
+
+Unable to wander off either to the right or to the left, the soldiers
+are compelled to follow the defile of verdure. Laboring under the shock
+of their recent disasters, they march with mistrust through the somber
+forest of Cardik, speaking only in undertones, and from time to time
+interrogating with uneasy looks the leafy branches of the trees, or the
+thicket that borders the route. For a while nothing justifies the
+apprehensions of the Frankish cohorts. The silence of the forest is
+disturbed only by the rhythmic and muffled sound of their steps, and the
+clank of their arms. But even the silence itself nourishes the vague
+fears of the Franks. The defile of Glen-Clan and the marsh of Peulven
+also were silent! More than one-half of the rest of the army now left to
+Neroweg has entered the forest, when, reaching one of the turns of the
+winding path, the Frankish chief, who marches at the head of his
+horsemen accompanied by the monk, suddenly stops short. The path has
+vanished. Gigantic oaks and elms, a hundred feet tall and from fifteen
+to twenty feet in circumference, and bearing the evidence of having only
+freshly fallen under the axe of the woodman, lie heaped upon each other
+and so tangled in their fall across the route that their enormous
+branches and colossal trunks present an impassible barrier to the
+cavalry. Only foot soldiers might possibly scale the obstruction, and
+cut their way across with hatchets.
+
+"Oh! What a war!" cries out Neroweg, clenching his fists. "After the
+defile, the marsh! After the marsh, the forest! I shall have barely
+one-third of my forces left by the time I join the other chiefs!
+Accursed Bretons, may the fires of hell consume you!"
+
+"Yes, these heathens will burn! They shall burn until the last day of
+judgment!" responds the monk with deep vexation. "Courage, Neroweg!
+Courage! This last obstacle being overcome, we shall arrive at the moor
+of Kennor. There we shall join the other two army corps of Louis the
+Pious, and we shall all jointly penetrate into the valley of Lokfern,
+where we will exterminate these accursed Bretons to the last man."
+
+"Have you seen me falter in courage? By the great St. Martin, it looks
+as if you were in league with the enemy, judging by the route you have
+guided us on! Already have you twice led us into an ambush, you
+miserable priest!"
+
+"Have I not braved all the dangers at your side?" observes the priest,
+holding up his left arm, that is wound in a bloodstained bandage. "Was I
+not myself wounded last evening when we attempted to cross the marsh of
+Peulven? Can you question my courage or fidelity?"
+
+"How are we to find another route? The one barred is the only one, you
+told me, that crosses this forest, otherwise impracticable to an army."
+
+The monk looks around; he reflects; but no answer proceeds from his
+lips. A prey to discouragement and increasing terror, the soldiers begin
+to grumble, when suddenly three quickly succeeding cries of the
+night-bird pierce the air. Immediately the Breton slingers and archers,
+ambushed behind the breast-work of fallen trees, assail the Franks with
+a volley of stones and arrows. Enormous oak branches, previously
+prepared, detach themselves from the tops of their trunks, and come down
+crashing upon the heads of the soldiers, killing or mutilating them.
+Anew, panic seizes the Franks; a fresh carnage decimates them.
+Cavalrymen thrown from their horses, foot soldiers trampled under the
+hoofs of the frightened steeds, all blinded, their flesh torn as in
+their fright they precipitate themselves into the thick of the prickly
+holly hedges--such is this day's spectacle presented to the delighted
+Breton eyes by the invading army of Neroweg. What an inspiring spectacle
+to the Armorican Gauls! The air is filled with the moans of the dying,
+the imprecations of the wounded, the threats hurled at the monk, now
+roundly charged with treason.
+
+The carnage and the panic are at their height when, climbing to the top
+of the breast-work of trees whence he can gain a full view of the
+distracted foe, Vortigern appears before the Franks and calls out to
+them defiantly:
+
+"Now you may try to cross the forest. Our quivers are empty. We shall
+retreat to replenish them and shall be ready to meet you in the valley
+of Lokfern."
+
+Vortigern has barely uttered these words when his eyes catch sight of
+the chief of the Franks, who, having descended from his horse, holds up
+against the stones and bolts of his assailants, his white buckler, on
+which three eagle's talons are seen painted. At the sight of the device
+of his own stock's ancestral foe, Vortigern places his last arrow upon
+the string of his bow.
+
+"The descendant of Joel sends this to the descendant of the Nerowegs."
+
+The arrow whizzes. It grazes the lower border of the Frank's buckler,
+and penetrates his knee just above the jointure.
+
+Neroweg falls upon the other knee, points out the Gaul to several
+archers in his vicinity, and cries:
+
+"Take aim at that bandit! Kill him!"
+
+The Saxon arrows fly through the air; two strike, and quiver where they
+strike, in the upturned branches of the tree on which Vortigern has
+mounted; the third enters his left arm.
+
+The descendant of Joel quickly draws out the sharp-edged iron, throws it
+back at the Franks with a defiant gesture, and disappears behind the
+twisted branches of the improvised barricade.
+
+Three times the cry of the night bird is again heard in the forest, and
+the Bretons disperse along paths known only to them, again singing as
+they go, the ancient war-song, the sound of whose refrain is gradually
+lost in the distance:
+
+ "This morning we asked:
+ 'How many are there of these Franks?
+ How many are there of these barbarians?'
+ This evening we say:
+ 'How many were there of these Franks?
+ How many were there of these barbarians?'
+ Victory, Victory for Gaul!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE MOOR OF KENNOR.
+
+
+About four leagues in width and three in length--such is the expanse of
+the moor of Kennor. It constitutes a vast plateau that slopes to the
+north toward the valley of Lokfern, and is bounded on the west by a wide
+river that pours its waters into the Sea of Armorica only a little
+distance away. The forest of Cardik and the last spurs of the mountain
+chain of Men-Brez border on the moor. The moor is covered throughout its
+extent by heather two or three feet high and almost burned out by the
+scorching sun of the dog-days. Level as a lake, the immense barren and
+desert plain presents a desolate aspect. A violent east wind causes the
+tall heather, now of the color of dead leaves, to undulate like a
+peaceful sheet of water. Above, the sky is of a bright blue on this
+sultry and windy day. An August sun inundates with its blinding light
+the desert expanse of heather, whose silence is disturbed only by the
+sharp chirp of the grasshopper, or the low moan of the gale.
+
+Presently a new element enters upon the scene. Skirting the bank of the
+river, a black and confused mass heaves into sight, stretches out its
+length, and moves toward the centre of the plain. It is the one of the
+three army corps led in person by Louis the Pious against the Breton
+Gauls. Long before its appearance, other troops, formed in compact
+cohorts, have been descending on the east the last slopes of Men-Brez.
+They, likewise, are advancing toward the plain--the place agreed upon
+for the junction of the three armies that had invaded Armorica, burning
+and ravaging the country upon their passage, and driving the population
+back towards the valley of Lokfern. The only division absent from the
+rendezvous is the contingent captained by Neroweg, which, since morning,
+has been struggling in the forest of Cardik. Finally it has issued in
+disorder from the woods, and re-formed its ranks. After incalculable
+labor, hewing, axe in hand, a passage through the thickets, leaving
+their cavalry behind, and forced to retreat upon their steps back to the
+marsh of Peulven, the troops of Neroweg at last succeed in crossing the
+forest. These troops now number barely one-half their original strength.
+They are reduced, not only by the losses sustained in the passage of the
+defile of Glen-Clan, of the marsh of Peulven, and the forest of Cardik,
+but also by the defection of large numbers of men, who, being more and
+more terror stricken by the resistance that they encountered, refused to
+listen to the orders of their chief, and followed the cavalry in its
+retreat. Neroweg's greatly reduced contingent now also appears in sight
+from the opposite side. The three army corps have descried one another.
+Their march converges towards the centre of the plain. The distance
+between them becomes so small that they are able to see one another's
+armor, casques and lances, glistening in the sun. The division of Louis
+the Pious, having been the first to descend into the plain over the
+hills of Men-Brez, halts, in order to wait for the other divisions. The
+troops under Louis the Pious himself are no less demoralized and reduced
+in numbers than the division under Neroweg. They have undergone similar
+vicissitudes during their long march, having had to cut their way
+across a seemingly endless series of ambushes. The sight of their
+companions arriving from the opposite side revives their courage.
+Henceforth they expect to fight in the open. As far as the eye can
+reach, the vast plain that they now have entered upon lies fully exposed
+to view. It can conceal no trap. The last struggle is now at hand, and
+with it the close of the war. The Bretons, crowded together just beyond
+in the valley of Lokfern, are to be crushed by a combined armed force
+that is still three times stronger than theirs.
+
+The vanguards of the three converging divisions are about to join when
+suddenly, from the east, whence a dry and steady gale is blowing, little
+puffs of smoke, at first almost imperceptible, are seen to rise at
+irregular distances from one another. The puffs of smoke are going up
+from the extreme eastern edge of the moor; they spread; they mingle with
+one another over an area more than two leagues in length; by little and
+little they present the aspect of one continuous belt of blackish smoke
+rising high and spreading into the air, and from time to time breaking
+out into lambent flames.
+
+The fire has been kindled at a hundred different spots by the Breton
+Gauls with the dry heather of the moor. Driven by the violent gale the
+girdle of flame soon embraces the horizon from the east to the south,
+from the slopes of Men-Brez to the skirt of the forest. It advances with
+rapid strides like the waves of the incoming tide lashed by a furious
+wind. Terrified at the sight of the burning waves that are rushing upon
+them from the right with the swiftness of a hurricane, the Frankish
+ranks waver for a moment. To their left, runs a deep river; behind them,
+rises the forest of Cardik; before them the plateau slopes towards the
+valley of Lokfern. Himself running for life towards the valley, Louis
+the Pious thereby gives to his troops the signal to flee. They follow
+their king tumultuously, anxious only to leave the moor behind them
+before the flames, that now invade the plateau from end to end, entirely
+cut off their retreat. Impatient to escape the danger, the cavalry
+breaks ranks, follows the example set by the king, traverses the cohorts
+of the infantry, throws them down, and rides rough-shod over them. The
+disorder, the tumult, the terror are at their height. The soldiers
+struggle with the horsemen and with one another. The fiery wave advances
+steadily; it advances faster than it can be run away from. The swiftest
+steed cannot cope with it. The all-embracing sheet of fire reaches first
+the soldiers whom the cavalry has thrown down and left wounded behind;
+it speedily envelopes the bulk of the army. In an instant the distracted
+cohorts are seen up to their waists in the midst of the flames.
+
+By the valor of our fathers, it is the hell of the damned in this world!
+Frightful! torture! Excruciating pain! A cheering sight for the eyes of
+a Breton Gaul, harassed by invaders, to behold his merciless assailers
+in. Frankish horsemen cased in iron and fallen from their steeds, roast
+within their red-hot armor like tortoises in their shell. The footmen
+jump and leap to withdraw their nether extremities from the embrace of
+the caressing flames. But the flames never leave them; the flames gain
+the lead. Their feet and legs are grilled, refuse their support, and the
+men drop into the furnace emitting cries of despair. The horses fare no
+better despite their breathless gallop; they feel their flanks and
+buttocks devoured by the flames; they become savage. They are seized
+with a vertigo; they rear, plunge and fall over upon their riders.
+Horses and riders roll down into the brasier at their feet. The horses
+neigh piteously, the riders moan or utter curses. An immense concert of
+imprecations, of fierce cries of pain and rage rises heavenward with the
+flames of the magnificent hecatomb of Frankish warriors!
+
+Oh! Beautiful to the eye is the moor of Kennor, still ruddy and smoking
+an hour after it is set on fire and consumed to the very root of its
+heather! Splendid brasier three leagues wide, strewn with thousands of
+Frankish bodies, shapeless, charred. Warm quarry above which already
+flocks of carrion-crows from the forest of Cardik are hovering! Glory to
+you, Bretons! More than a third of the Frankish army met death on the
+moor of Kennor.
+
+"What a war! What a war!" also exclaims Louis the Pious.
+
+Aye, a merciless war; a holy war; a thrice holy war, waged by a people
+in defence of their freedom, their homes, their fields, their hearths;
+Oh, ancient land of the Gauls! Oh, old Armorica, sacred mother!
+Everything turns into a weapon in the hands of your rugged children
+against their barbarous invaders! Rocks, precipices, marshes, woods,
+moors on fire! Oh, Brittany, betrayed by those of your own children who
+succumbed to the wiles of the Catholic priests, stabbed at your heart by
+the sword of the Frankish kings, and pouring out the generous heart
+blood of your children, perchance, after all, you will feel the yoke of
+the conquerer on your neck! But the bones of your enemies, crushed,
+burned and drowned in the struggle, will tell to our descendants the
+tale of a resistance that Armorica offered to her casqued and mitred
+invaders!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE VALLEY OF LOKFERN.
+
+
+Decimated by the conflagration of the moor of Kennor, the Frankish army
+flees in disorder in the direction of the valley of Lokfern, that lies
+slightly below the vast plateau on which an hour before the three
+Frankish divisions have joined, confident that their trials are ended.
+Escaped from the disaster of the conflagration and carried onward by the
+impetuosity of their steeds, a portion of the Frankish cavalry that
+follows Louis the Pious in his precipitate flight, arrives at the
+confines of the plateau. Driven by a terror that left them no thought
+but to outstrip one another, the fleeing riders seem to give no heed to
+the sight that unfolds before them. At the foot of the slope that they
+are about to descend, stands the numerous Breton cavalry, drawn up in
+battle array, under the command of Morvan and Vortigern. It is only a
+cavalry of rustics, yet intrepid, veterans in warfare, perfectly
+mounted. Carried by the headlong course of their horses beyond the edge
+of the plateau and down the slope to the valley, the Franks rush in
+confused order upon the Breton cavalry that is drawn up as if to bar
+their passage; they rush onward, either unable to restrain their still
+frightened steeds, or conceiving a vague hope of crushing the opposing
+Bretons under the irresistible violence of their impetuous descent. The
+Breton cavalry, however, instead of waiting for the Franks, quickly
+parts in two corps, one commanded by Morvan, the other by Vortigern.
+One corps seems to flee to the right, the other to the left. The space
+from the foot of the hill to the river Scoer being thus left free by the
+sudden and rapid manoeuvre of the Gauls, most of the Frankish horsemen
+find themselves hardly able to rein in their horses in time to escape
+falling into the water. A moment of disorder follows. It is turned to
+advantage by Morvan and Vortigern. The Frankish riders being dispersed
+and engaged with their steeds, Vortigern and Morvan turn about and fall
+upon them. They take the foe upon the flanks, right and left; charge
+upon them with fury; make havoc among them. Most of them are sabred to
+death, or have their heads beaten in with axes, others are driven into
+the river. During the fierce melee, the remnant of the infantry of Louis
+the Pious, still fleeing from the furnace of the moor of Kennor, arrives
+upon the spot in disorder. Trained in the trade of massacre, they
+promptly reform their ranks and pour down upon the Breton cavalry. At
+first victorious, these are finally crushed, overwhelmed by vastly
+superior numbers. On the other side of the river the rustic Gallic
+infantry still continue to hold their ground--husbandmen, woo-men and
+shepherds armed with pikes, scythes and axes, and many of them supplied
+with bows and slings. Behind this mass of warriors, and within an
+enclosure defended by barricades of heaped up trunks of trees and
+ditches, are assembled the women and children of the combatants. All
+their families have fled distracted before the invaders, carrying their
+valuables in their flight, and now await with indescribable agony the
+issue of this last battle.
+
+Weep! Weep, Brittany! and yet be proud of your glory! Your sons, crushed
+down by numbers, resisted to their last breath; all have fallen wounded
+or dead in defence of their freedom!
+
+The river is fordable for infantry at only one place. The monk who
+accompanies Neroweg points out the passage to the troops of Louis the
+Pious. They cross it immediately after the annihilation of the cavalry
+of Morvan. The Armoricans who are drawn up on the opposite bank of the
+Scoer heroically defend the ground inch by inch, man to man, ever
+falling back toward the fortified enclosure that is the last refuge of
+our families. Marching over heaps of corpses, the soldiery of Louis the
+Pious finally assail the fortified enclosure, all its defenders having
+been killed or wounded. The enclosure is taken. According to their
+custom, the Franks slaughter the children, put the women and maids to
+the torture of infamous treatment, and lead them away captive to the
+interior of Gaul. Ermond the Black, a monk and familiar of Louis the
+Pious in this impious war, wrote its account in Latin verse. The death
+of Morvan is narrated in the poem as follows:
+
+ "Then presently the cry runs through the ranks
+ That Morvan's head, the Breton chieftain's head,
+ Has been brought in unto the Frankish King:
+ To see it haste the Franks; they shout with joy
+ At prospect to behold the grisley sight.
+ From hand to hand the bloody head is passed,
+ Marred with the sword that hewed it from its trunk.
+ Witchaire the Abbot next is called upon
+ T' identify the member, if it be
+ The head of Morvan, that redoubted chief.
+ He pours some water on the matted front,
+ He laves it, wipes the hair from off its brow,
+ And cries ''Tis Morvan--'tis his Gallic lour!'"
+
+Thus Brittany, once lost to the Franks, is placed anew under their
+sway.
+
+
+
+
+EPILOGUE
+
+
+Vortigern, the grandson of Amael, wrote this account of the war of the
+Franks against Brittany. Left for dead on the banks of the Scoer, he did
+not recover his senses until a day and a night had passed after the
+defeat of the Bretons. Some Christian druids, led to the spot by
+Caswallan, who had escaped the massacre, came to the field of battle to
+gather the wounded who might still be alive. Vortigern was of the
+number. From them he learned that his sister Noblede, the wife of
+Morvan, together with other women and young girls who took refuge in the
+fortified enclosure, had stabbed themselves to death in order to escape
+being outraged by the Franks and led into slavery. After Abbot Witchaire
+left the house of Morvan on his return trip to announce to Louis the
+Pious the refusal of the Armorican Gauls to pay the tribute demanded
+from them, Vortigern returned with his wife and children to Karnak in
+order to gather in the crops from his fields. The harvest being in, he
+left his family at the house of his parents, and returned to Morvan in
+order to join the latter's forces, and oppose the army of Louis the
+Pious. Immediately after his wounds were healed, Vortigern returned to
+Karnak, where he rejoined his wife and children. The Franks had not
+dared push their invasion beyond the valley of Lokfern. They contented
+themselves with leaving Armorica devastated and stripped of her bravest
+defenders. Yet is she not subdued. She but waits the moment to revolt
+anew.
+
+Vortigern joined this narrative to the other narratives of his family,
+and he accompanied his own account with the two Carlovingian coins, the
+gift of Thetralde, one of the daughters of Charles the Great. These
+relics of the family of Joel now consist of Hena's little gold sickle,
+Guilhern's little brass bell, Sylvest's iron collar, Genevieve's silver
+cross, Shanvoch's casque's lark, Ronan the Vagre's poniard's hilt and
+his branding needle, Bonaik's abbatial crosier and Vortigern's
+Carlovingian coins, together with the narratives that accompany them.
+
+Myself, Rosneven, the oldest son of Vortigern, who make this entry at
+the foot of my father's narrative, can only record here my father's
+death on the fifth day of February of 889. These have been sad years for
+Brittany, and also for our own family in particular. Our special sorrows
+proceed from the estrangement of my younger brothers, one of whom left
+Gaul and sailed to the country of the Northman pirates. I lack both the
+spirit and the will to recite these lamentable events. Perhaps my
+youngest brother Gomer, gifted with more energy, ability and
+perseverance than myself, may some day undertake the task.
+
+THE END.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[A] "The daughters of the Emperor Charles always accompanied him on his
+trips into the interior of Gaul. They were handsome beauties; he loved
+them passionately; he never allowed them to marry, and kept them all
+with him till his death. Although happy in everything else, Charles
+experienced in them the malignity of adverse fortune; but he buried his
+chagrin, and behaved towards them as if they had never given cause for
+evil suspicions, and as if rumor had never been busy with their
+names."--_Chronicles of Eginhard, p. 145, Collected History of France._
+
+[B] For Amael's story, see "The Abbatial Crosier," the preceding book of
+the series.
+
+[C] "The Gallic woman equalled her husband in courage and strength. She
+sat in his councils of war with him. Her eyes were more furious when she
+was angered, and she swung her arms, as white as snow, and dealt blows
+as heavy as if they came from an engine of war."--Ammienus Marcellinus,
+_Notes of the Martyrs_, vol. XVIII, book IX.
+
+[D] "The heart of Louis the Pious (Charlemagne's son) was, naturally,
+long indignant at the conduct indulged in by his sisters under the
+paternal roof, the only blot upon its name. Desiring, then, to amend
+these disorders, he sent before him Walla, Warnaire, Lambert and
+Ingobert, with the order to watch carefully, as soon as they should
+arrive at Aix-la-Chapelle, that no new scandal should occur; and to put
+under heavy guard those who had soiled the majesty of the empire with a
+criminal commerce (with the daughters of the Emperor). Certain ones,
+guilty of these crimes, came before Louis the Pious to obtain pardon,
+which they received. Audoin alone resisted. He smote Warnaire that he
+died, wounded Lambert in the thigh, and slew himself with one blow of
+his sword.... Whereupon Louis the Pious decided to drive out of the
+palace all that multitude of women which occupied it in the time of his
+father."--L'Astronome, _Life of Louis the Pious_, pp. 345-346,
+_Collected History of France_.
+
+[E] See "The Casque's Lark."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Carlovingian Coins, by Eugene Sue
+
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