"In that event the iniquity will be accomplished. In that event, if their purpose is not only to subject your goods and persons to the tyranny and exactions of the Church, but also to despoil you forcibly of the soil and the liberty that you have reconquered and which a royal charter guarantees to you, in that event you will be forced to take a supreme resolution. Call together a solemn council, as our fathers of yore were in the habit of doing whenever the safety of the land was in peril. Let the mothers and wives take part in that council, as was the ancient custom of Gaul, because the fate of their husbands and children is to be determined upon. You will then with calmness, wisdom and firmness decide upon one of these three alternatives—the only ones, alas! left to you: Whether to submit to the pretensions of the Bishop of Chalon, and accept a disguised servitude that will soon transform our free Valley into a domain of the Church, to be exploited for his benefit; whether you will bow before the will of the Queen if she tramples your rights under foot, tears up the charter of Clotaire, and declares our Valley a domain of the royal fisc, which will mean to you spoliation, misery, slavery and shame; or, finally, whether, strong in your own right, but certain of being crushed by superior numbers, to make protest against the royal or episcopal iniquityby a heroic defense, and bury yourselves and your families under the ruins of your homes. You will have to decide upon one of these three measures."
"All of us, without exception, men, women and children, will know how to fight and die like our ancestors, Loysik! And perhaps it may happen that the bloody lesson and example may shake the surrounding populations from their torpor. But, brother—brother—to think of your starting alone, and alone confronting a danger that I cannot share with you!"
"Come, Ronan, no weakness. See to it that all the fortified posts of the Valley be occupied as was done fifty years ago at the time of the invasion of Burgundy by Chram. The old military experience that you and the Master of the Hounds have acquired will now be of great service. For the rest, there will be no fear of any attack during the next four or five days. It will take me two days to reach Chalon, and an equally long time for the Queen's troops to reach the Valley, in the event of her resolving upon violence. Until the moment of my arrival at Chalon, both the bishop and Brunhild will be in the dark as to whether their orders were enforced or not. They can receive no tidings seeing that the archdeacon and the chamberlain, together with their troops, remain prisoners in the Valley and under safe surveillance."
"And in case of need they will serve as hostages."
"It is the law of war. If the insane bishop, if the implacable Queen wish war, we must also keep as prisoners the two priests, the infamous hypocrites, who treacherously brought the archdeacon into the Valley."
"I overheard the monks argue upon the lesson that they should administer to the two spies—they spoke of a strapping."
"I expressly forbid any act of violence towards the two priests!" said Loysik in a tone of severe reproof, addressing two monk laborers who happened to be at the time in the cell."Those clerks are but the creatures of the bishop; they merely obeyed his orders. I repeat it—no violence, my children!"
"Good father Loysik, seeing you so order it, no harm shall be done them."
Heartrending was the leave-taking between Loysik and both the inhabitants of the colony and the members of the community. Many tears flowed; many childish hands clung to the monk's robe. Vain were the recurring entreaties not to depart on his errand. He took his leave, accompanied as far as the punt by Ronan and his family. At the landing of the punt they found the Master of the Hounds and his posse ready posted to cut off the retreat of the Franks. As he took his post, the Master of the Hounds noticed on the other side of the river a number of slaves guarding the mounts of the warriors and the archdeacon's baggage. The Master of the Hounds considered it prudent to seize both men and animals. Leaving one-half of his companions at the lodge, he crossed the river at the head of the rest. The slaves offered no resistance, and three trips sufficed to transport the men, the animals and the wagons to the opposite shore. Loysik approved the manoeuvre of the Master of the Hounds. Seeing that neither the archdeacon nor Gondowald returned, the slaves might have run back to Chalon and given the alarm. It was important to the project upon which the monk was bent that the recent occurrences at the monastery remained a secret. Considering his advanced age and the long road that he had to travel, Loysik decided to use the archdeacon's mule for the journey. The animal was re-embarked on the punt, which Ronan and his son Gregory decided themselves to take to the other shore, so as to remain a few minutes longer with Loysik. The craft touched ground; the old monk laborer embraced Ronan and his son once more, mounted his mule, and, accompanied by a young brother of the community, who followed him on foot, took the road to Chalon-on-the-Saone, the residence of the redoubted Queen Brunhild.
"Long live he who loves the Franks! May Christ uphold their empire! May He enlighten their chiefs and fill them with grace! May He protect the army, may He fortify the faith, may He grant peace and happiness to those who govern them under the auspices of our Lord Jesus Christ!"
By the faith of a Vagre! That passage from the prelude to the Salic Law always recurs to the mind when Frankish kings or queens are on the tapis. Let us enter the lair of Brunhild—splendid lair! Not rustic is this burg, like Neroweg's, the large burg that we old Vagres reduced to ashes! No; this great Queen has a refined taste. One of her passions is for architecture. The noble woman loves the ancient arts of Greece and Italy. Aye, she loves art! Regale your sight with the magnificent castle that she built at Chalon-on-the-Saone, the capital of Burgundy. Magnificent as are all her other castles, none, not even that of Bourcheresse, can compare with her royal residence, the superb gardens of which stretch to the very banks of the Saone. It is a palace at once gorgeous and martial. In these days of incessant feuds, kings and seigneurs always turn their homes into fortifications. So also did Brunhild. Her palace is girt by thick walls, flanked with massive towers. One only entrance—a vaulted passage closed at its two extremities by enormous iron-barred doors—leads within. Night and day Brunhild's men-at-arms mount guard in the vault. In the inside courtyards are numerous other lodges for horsemen and footmen. The halls of the palace are vast; they are paved in marble or in mosaics, and are ornamented with colonnades of jasper,porphyry and alabaster surmounted with capitals of gilded bronze. These architectural wonders, masterpieces of art, the spoils of the temples and palaces of Gaul, were transported with the help of an immense number of relays of slaves and beasts of burden from their original and distant sites to the palace of the Queen. These vast and gorgeous halls, which are furthermore stored with massive ivory, gold and silver furniture, with exquisitely wrought pagan statues, with precious vases and tripods, are but vestibules to the private chamber of Brunhild. The sun has just risen. The spacious halls are filling with the Queen's domestic slaves, with officers of her troops, with high dignitaries of her establishment—chamberlains, equerries, stewards, constables—all coming to receive their mistress's orders.
A circular apartment, contrived into one of the towers of the palace, connects with the chamber that the Queen habitually inhabits. The walls are pierced by three doors—one leads to the hall where the officers of the palace are in waiting; another into Brunhild's bedroom; the third, a simple bay closed by a curtain of gilded leather, opens upon a spiral staircase that is built into the hollow of the wall itself. The Queen's chamber is sumptuously furnished. Upon a table, covered with a richly embroidered tapestry, lie rolls of white parchment beside a solid coffer studded with precious stones. Around the table a number of chairs are arranged, all of which are furnished with soft purple cushions. Here and there the shafts of pillars serve as pedestals for vases of jasper, of onyx, or of Corinthian bronze, a material more precious than gold or red alabaster. Upon an antique green plinth rests a group exquisitely wrought in Parisian marble and representing the pagan god of Love caressing Venus. Not far from that group, two statues of bronze that age has turned green represent the obscene figures of a fawn and a nymph. Between these two masterpieces of pagan art, a picture painted upon wood and brought at great expense from Byzantium, represents the infant Christ and John the Baptist, thelatter also as a child. This picture of holiness indicates that Queen Brunhild is a fervent Catholic. Does she not carry on a regular correspondence with the Pope of Rome, the pious Gregory, who can not bestow too many blessings upon his holy daughter in Christ? Further away, upon yonder ivory stand, is an elaborately carved case in which large Roman and Gallic medals of silver and gold are displayed. Among these medals is one of bronze, the only one of that metal in the collection. What does it represent?
What! Here! In a place like this! That august, that venerated face! O, profanation!
Oh, never was the place or time more opportune for a miracle than here and now, in order to terrify evildoers! That bronze effigy should shudder with horror at the place in which it finds itself.
An elderly and richly clad woman, of stony, cynic and wily countenance, steps from Brunhild's bedroom and enters the apartment in the tower. The woman, of noble Frankish extraction and Chrotechilde by name, has long been the confidante in all the Queen's crimes and debaucheries. She steps to a bell, rings it and waits. Shortly after, another old woman appears at the door that opens upon the spiral staircase in the wall. Her extremely simple costume announces that she is of inferior rank.
"I heard you ring, noble dame Chrotechilde, at your orders."
"Did Samuel, the slave merchant, come as ordered?"
"He has been waiting below for over an hour with two young girls, and also an old man with a long white beard."
"Who is that old man?"
"A slave, I suppose, that the Jew is to take somewhere else, after his business is done here."
"Order Samuel to bring up the two young girls, immediately."
The old woman bowed and vanished behind the curtain. Almostat the same moment Brunhild stepped out of her bedroom.
The Queen was sixty-seven years of age; the lines on her face still preserved the traces of exceptional beauty. Her wan and wrinkled face was illumined by the somber brilliancy of her two large but sunken eyes, which were surrounded with deep, dark circles. They were black, like her long eyelashes; only her hair was white. A front of brass, cruel lips, penetrating eyes, a head haughtily poised, proud and lofty carriage, seeing that she had preserved a straight and supple waist—such was Brunhild. She had hardly stepped into the apartment, when she stopped, listened and said to Chrotechilde:
"Who is coming up the little stairs?"
"The slave merchant; he has two young girls with him."
"Let him in—let him in!"
"Madam, whom do you intend to present with the two slave girls that he brings?"
"I shall tell you later. But I am in a hurry to examine the two creatures. The choice is important."
"Madam, here is Samuel."
The dealer in Gallic flesh, a Jew by extraction like most of the men who devoted themselves to such traffic, entered, followed by the two slaves whom he brought with him. They were wrapped in long white veils, that were transparent enough to enable them to walk unassisted.
"Illustrious Queen," said the Jew dropping on one knee and bowing so low that his forehead almost touched the floor, "I am here obedient to your orders; here are two young female slaves; they are veritable treasures of beauty, of sweetness, of gracefulness, of gentleness and above all of maidenliness. Your excellency knows that old Samuel has but one quality—that of being an honest trader."
"Rise—rise!" commanded Brunhild, addressing the two girls, who, at the sight of the redoubted Queen, had fallen ontheir knees at the threshold of the door near the merchant. "Let the girls rise, and remove their veils."
The two slaves hastened to obey the Queen. They rose. To the end of enhancing the value of his merchandise, the Jew had clad the two young girls in short-sleeved tunics, the skirt of which hardly reached their knees, while the cut of their corsage left their bosoms and shoulders half exposed. One of the two slaves, a tall and lithesome girl, wore a white tunic; her eyes were blue; a strand of corals wound itself in the braids of her black hair; eighteen or twenty years was the utmost age that she could be taken for. The girl's face, touchingly beautiful and open, was bathed in tears. Steeped in sorrow and shame, and trembling at every limb, she dared not raise her tear-dimmed eyes out of fear to encounter Brunhild's. After long and attentively contemplating the girl, whom she ordered to turn around in order to have a view of her from all sides, the old Queen exchanged a look of approval with Chrotechilde, who had been no less attentively examining the slave. Addressing the latter she asked:
"Of what country are you?"
"I am from the city of Toul," answered the girl in a tremulous voice.
"Aurelie! Aurelie!" cried Samuel stamping on the ground with his foot. "Is that the way you remember my lessons? You should answer: 'Glorious Queen, I am from the city of Toul.'" And turning towards Brunhild, "Kindly pardon her, madam, but she is so childish, so simple—"
Brunhild cut off the Jew's flow of words and proceeded with her interrogatory:
"Where were you taken?"
"At Toul, madam, when the city was sacked by the King of Burgundy."
"Were you free or slave?"
"I was free—my father was a master armorer."
"Can you read and write? Have you pleasing accomplishments? Can you sing and play?"
"I can read and write, and my mother taught me to play upon the archlute and to sing."
When she said that she could sing, the unhappy girl was unable to repress the sobs that suffocated her. She must have thought of her mother.
"Weep, and weep again!" Samuel cried, angrily scolding the girl. "You can do that better than anything else. But, as you know, great Queen, one has a certain supply of tears, after the supply has run out the bag is empty."
"Do you really believe so, Jew? Fortunately you are merely slandering the human race," observed the Queen with a cruel smile, and proceeded to interrogate the young girl:
"Have you ever been a slave before now?"
"By the faith of Samuel, illustrious Queen, she is as new to slavery as a child in the womb of its mother!" cried the Jew as he saw the young Gallic slave breaking out anew into sobs, and unable to make answer. "I bought Aurelie on the very day of the battle of Toul, and since then my wife Rebecca and I have watched over the girl as if she were our own child, hoping that we might realize a fair price for her. We guarantee that she is a maiden."
After another look over the girl, who now hid her face in her hands, Brunhild said to Samuel:
"Return her veil to her; let her stop whimpering; bring forth the other one."
Aurelie received her veil from the hands of the Jew like an act of kindness, and hastened to wrap herself up in its folds in order to conceal her grief, her shame and her tears. At the Queen's order, the other slave hastened to step forward. Dainty and fresh as a Hebe, she might be sixteen years of age. A string of pearls wound itself in the stout braids of her bright blonde hair; her large hazel eyes sparkled with mischief and fire; herthin and slightly upturned nose, her rosy and palpitating nostrils, her ruby but rather fleshy lips, her little enamel teeth, her dimpled cheeks and chin, imparted to this girl the liveliest, gayest and most impudent look imaginable. Her tunic of green silk added luster to the whiteness of her bosom and shoulders. Oh! the Jew had no need of telling this one to turn around, and turn again, in order that the aged Queen might obtain a good view of her charming shape. She raised her head, arched her neck, rose on the tips of her feet, folded her arms gracefully, and at all points played the coquette before Brunhild and Chrotechilde, who again exchanged looks of approval, while the Jew, who was now made to feel as uneasy by the audacity of this slave as before by the sorrowful deportment of the other, whispered to her:
"Keep quiet, Blandine—do not shake your legs and wave your arms quite so much. A little more decorum, my girl, in the presence of our illustrious and beloved Queen! One would think you had quicksilver in your veins! May your excellence excuse her, illustrious princess. She is so young, so gay, so giddy-headed—all she wants is to fly from her cage and display her plumage and voice. Lower your eyes, Blandine! You audacious girl! How dare you look our august Queen in the face!"
Indeed, instead of avoiding the penetrating eyes of Brunhild, Blandine sought to catch and mischievously to challenge them, all the while smiling with a confident mien. The Queen, accordingly, after an equally long and minute survey, said to her:
"Slavery does not seem to sadden you?"
"On the contrary, glorious Queen, to me slavery has been freedom."
"How is that, impudent lass?"
"I had a peevish, cross, quarrelsome step-mother. She made me spend upon the cold stone porches of the basilicas all the time that I was not engaged plying my needle. The old fury used tobeat me whenever I unfortunately took my nose off my sewing and smiled at some lad at the window. Accordingly, great Queen, what a sad lot was mine! Ill fed, I who am so fond of dainties; ill clad, I who am so coquettish; on my feet at the first crow of the cock, I who am so fond of snoozing in my bed! And so it happens that great was my joy when your invincible grandson and his brave army, Queen, illustrious Queen, drew, last year, near Tolbiac, where I lived."
"Why so?"
"Because, glorious Queen, I knew that Frankish warriors never kill young girls. I said to myself: 'Perhaps I may be captured by some baron of Burgundy, a count, or perhaps even a duke, and once I am a slave, if I know myself, I shall become a mistress—because there have been female slaves known—"
"To become Queens, like Fredegonde, not so, my little one?"
"And why not, if they are pretty!" impudently answered the minx without lowering her eyes before Brunhild, who listened to and contemplated her with a pensive air. "But, alas," Blandine proceeded saying with a half suppressed sigh, "I did not then have the fortune of falling into the hands of a seigneur. An old leude, with long white moustaches and not a bit amorous, had me for his share of the booty, and he immediately after sold me to seigneur Samuel. But perhaps it is not yet too late, and a lucky chance may come my way. But what is this that I am saying!" added Blandine smiling her sweetest at Brunhild, "is it not a great, an unexpected piece of good luck that has brought me to your presence, illustrious Queen?"
After a moment's reflection, Brunhild said to the merchant:
"Jew, I shall buy one of these two slaves from you."
"Illustrious Queen, which of the two do you prefer, Aurelie or Blandine?"
"I am not yet decided—leave them at the palace until this evening—they shall be taken to my women's apartment."
At a nod from the Queen, Chrotechilde rang the bell; thesecond old woman again appeared; Brunhild's confidante said to her:
"Take these two slaves with you."
"Illustrious Queen," said Blandine turning once more to Brunhild, while the Jew was carefully wrapping the devilish girl in her veil. "Queen, choose me, glorious Queen—you will thereby do a good work—I would so much like to stay at court."
"Keep still, impudent thing!" said Samuel in a low voice while gently pushing Blandine towards the Queen's bedroom, at the door of which Chrotechilde pointed her finger. "Too much is too much; such familiarities may displease our illustrious sovereign!"
The two young girls, one of whom was brimming over with happiness while the other staggered under the weight of her grief, stepped into the Queen's apartment. The Jew humbly bowed before Brunhild, left by the same door that he had entered, and closed behind him the leather curtain that masked the issue to the spiral staircase.
Brunhild and her confidante were left alone.
"Madam," said Chrotechilde to Brunhild, "for whom do you intend the one of the two female slaves whom you expect to buy?"
"You really ask me?"
"Yes, madam—"
"Chrotechilde, age seems to dull your powers of penetration—perhaps I may have to look for some other confidante."
"Madam, please explain yourself—"
"I mean to test how far the present dullness that seems to have come over you may go."
"Truly, madam, I am at a loss to understand you—"
"Tell me, Chrotechilde, did not my son Childebert, when he died assassinated by Fredegonde, leave me the guardianship of his two sons, my grandchildren, Thierry and Theudebert?"
"Yes—madam—but I was speaking of the two female slaves—and not of your children."
"At what age was my grandson Theudebert a father?"
"At thirteen—at that age he had a son from Bilichilde, the dark-complexioned slave with green eyes, for whom you paid a big price. I still see her wild looks, as uncommon as her style of beauty. For the rest, she had a nymph's waist, and wavy and jet-black hair that reached the floor. I never in my life saw such hair. But why do you look so somber?"
"The vile slave! Did not that miserable Bilichilde gain a fatal ascendency over my grandson Theudebert, despite the many other concubines that we furnished him?"
"Indeed, madam! So fatal was the ascendency that shegained over him, that she caused us to be driven out of Metz, both you and me, and led prisoners as far as Arcis-on-the-Aube, the boundary of Burgundy, the kingdom of your other grandson, Thierry. But all that is an old story, madam, that is dead and should be forgotten, together with the principal actors in it. Bilichilde is no more; she was last year strangled to death by your grandson, the savage idiot Theudebert himself, who passed from love to hatred; afterwards, beaten at the battle of Tolbiac by his brother, whom you hurled at his head, he was himself shorn of his hair and stabbed to death; finally, his five-year-old son had his skull broken against a stone. Accordingly, that score was thoroughly settled. Were you not amply revenged?"
"No; with me, hatred survives vengeance, it survives death itself, as the dagger survives the murder. No; my vengeance is not yet complete."
"You are not reasonable. To hate beyond the grave is childish at your age."
"And is your mind not yet enlightened by what we have just said?"
"With regard to the two handsome slaves?"
"Yes, with regard to the two pretty girls."
"No, madam, I cannot yet fathom your thoughts."
"Let us, then, proceed, seeing that you have become so obtuse. Tell me, what was the nature of Theudebert, before we gave him Bilichilde for companion?"
"Violent, active, resolute, head-strong and above all proud. At eleven years he already felt the proud ardor of his royal blood. He used to say loftily: 'I am the King of Austrasia! I am master!'"
"And two years after he possessed the dark-complexioned slave with the green eyes and curly hair, whom you so judiciously chose for him, what was then the nature of my grandson? Answer me, Chrotechilde."
"Oh, madam, Theudebert was unrecognizable. Unnerved,irresolute and languid, he had no will except to go from his bed to table, and from table to bed with his concubines. He hardly had enough spirit to hunt with falcons, a woman's amusement; the hunt of wild animals he could not think of, it was too tiring. I was not at all surprised at the change. From being robust, pert and loving noisy games since his early childhood, he became sickly, weak, puny, dreamy, and preferred darkened rooms as if the light of the sun hurt his eyes. In short, he had given promise of becoming a man of large size, but he died stunted and almost beardless."
"It was that I aimed at, Chrotechilde. Precocious debauchery unnerves the soul as much as it does the body. Accordingly Theudebert's issue was not born with vitality enough to survive."
"True enough; I never saw such puny children—but what else could be expected from a dwarfish and almost imbecile father?"
"And yet, as early as his twelfth year, Theudebert used to say haughtily: 'I am the King of Austrasia! I am master!'"
"Yes, but afterwards, whenever you sought to converse with him upon matters of state, and you called his attention to his being King, the boy would regularly answer you in his languid voice and with his eyes half shut: 'Grandmother, I am King of my women, of my amphoras of old wine and of my falcons! Reign in my stead, grandmother; reign in my name, if you please!'"
"And it did please me, Chrotechilde. I reigned in Austrasia for my grandson Theudebert until the day when that vile slave Bilichilde, availing herself of her influence over the imbecile King, drove me from Metz—drove out me—Brunhild!"
"Ever the remembrance of that occurrence! Again does the storm gather over your forehead! Again your eyes shoot lightning! But, by the heavens, madam; the slave has been strangled, the imbecile and his son are both dead—they haveboth been killed and lie in their graves. I even forgot that, in order to complete the hecatomb of those malefic animals, Quintio, the stewart of the palace and Duke of Champagne, who took an improper part in the affair of Metz, was put to death upon your orders. What more can you wish? Besides, in exchange for the Austrasia that you lost, did you not gain a Burgundy? If Theudebert drove you from Metz, did you not take refuge here, in Chalon, near your other grandson Thierry? Enervated and besotted through overindulgence with the women that we furnished him with, did you not drive him to undertake a merciless war against his own brother, whom he overcame at Toul and Tolbiac, and who, after these defeats, was himself, together with his son put to death, as I reminded you a minute ago? Thus revenged for being exiled from Metz, have you not ever since held sway over Thierry and actually reigned in his stead? When Aegila, the stewart of the palace, made you apprehensive by reason of his growing influence over your grandson, you promptly rid yourself of Aegila, and you substituted him with your lover Protade, who thereupon became the mayor of the palace—"
"But they killed him, Chrotechilde—they killed him—they killed my lover, my Protade!"
"Come, madam; we are here among ourselves; admit that a Queen never suffers any dearth of lovers. You need only choose among the handsomest, the youngest, the most appetizing nobles of the court. Moreover, madam, without meaning to make you any reproaches on that score, if they did kill your Protade, did you not in turn kill their Bishop Didier?"
"Perchance he did not merit his fate?"
"Never was punishment more condign! The wily prelate! He schemed to supplant us in our amorous manoeuvres! Why, the fellow plotted the marriage of your grandson to the Spanish princess, in order to snatch him from the voluptuous life in which we kept him, and thereby withdraw him from your domination!And what happened to the tonsured schemer? The current of the Chalaronne washed his corpse down the stream, while the Spanish woman, upon whom he reckoned in order to evict you and, by means of her, to rule Thierry and through Thierry Burgundy, that Spanish woman has been repudiated by your grandson, she went back to her own country only six months after her wedding, and we have appropriated her dower. Finally, Thierry died this year of a dysentery," added the hag with a horrid smile, "and so you now are absolute mistress and sovereign Queen of this country of Burgundy, seeing that Sigebert, the eldest son of Thierry, your great-grandson, is now only eleven years old. We must prevent these kinglets from dying out, else Fredegonde's surviving son would fall heir to their kingdoms. All that is needed is that they vegetate, in order that you may reign in their stead. Well, madam, they vegetate. But all this takes us far away from the young female slave whom you wish to buy from Samuel."
"On the contrary, Chrotechilde, the review leads us directly to the slave."
"In what manner?"
"There can no longer be any doubt about it; age is softening your brains; formerly so quick to grasp my purposes, it is now fully a quarter of an hour that you have been giving me distressful proofs of your waning intellect."
"I, madam?"
"Yes; in former days, instead of asking me what I intended doing with one of Samuel's slaves, you would have guessed on the spot. I have been able to convince myself at leisure of the senility of your understanding—it is sad, Chrotechilde."
"As sad to me as to you, madam. But deign to explain yourself, I pray you. For me to hear is to obey."
"What! Dullard! You know that I have the guardianship of my great-grandchildren, and yet you stupidly ask me whatI propose to do with one of the two pretty slaves! Do you now understand?"
"Oh! Yes! I now begin to understand, madam; but yet your reproaches were unmerited. You forget that Sigebert is not yet eleven."
"All the better! The debauch will begin so much earlier."
"That is true," remarked the other monster with a horrid peal of laughter. "That is true; all the better. The debauch will start so much sooner."
During this shocking conversation the august bronze effigy remained motionless in the case of medals on the ivory stand; it never once as much as winked, nor did its metal mouth utter a cry of malediction to shake the walls of the apartment like a trumpet blast of the day of judgment.
The conversation between the two matrons proceeded.
"You mean to furnish a concubine to your great-grandson, Sigebert," said Chrotechilde to the Queen, "although he is not yet eleven."
"Yes," repeated Brunhild; "but what happened with Bilichilde makes me pause: I do not know which of the two slaves to take. What is your opinion, in view of your experience?"
"The tall brunette who weeps constantly will never be dangerous; she is mild, candid, and stupid as a sheep. There is no fear that the silly thing will ever instil Sigebert with evil thoughts against you."
"I also am strongly inclined in favor of the weepful one; the other girl seems to me rather too bold a piece. The impudent thing never once lowered her eyes before mine, that terrify the otherwise firmest and most daring men."
"It is quite possible, madam, that the frisky little imp may have too large a measure of what the tall one has too little—there may be profit in that. Let us look at things as they are. Sigebert is not yet eleven, he is very childish, thinks only of his top and huckle-bones; besides, he is quiet and timid, a veritablelamb. Now, then, if the tall silly thing associates with him like a sheep—you understand me, madam? On the other hand, the little gay imp might set our lamb afire. I always remember the fear of Theudebert at the sight of the girl with the green eyes and curly hair. The matter requires careful consideration, madam. Let us first study the nature of the two girls. Moreover, there is no great hurry in the matter. Sigebert is now in Germany with Duke Warnachaire, the mayor of the palace of Burgundy."
"They may be back any moment. I should not be surprised to see them back to-day. Moreover, I am in all the greater hurry to procure a slave girl for Sigebert, seeing that I fear Warnachaire may have gained some influence over him during this journey into Germany. If so, whatever influence Warnachaire may have gained over the boy will be speedily lost in his experiences with love."
"But, madam, if you mistrust the duke, why did you confide Sigebert to him?"
"Was it not absolutely necessary for Sigebert to be a part of the embassy? The sight of the royal child, with his sweet face, was certain to interest in his behalf the German tribes on the other side of the Rhine whose alliance Warnachaire was to secure for me. Their troops will double my army. Oh, in this last supreme effort, in this merciless war that will now break out between me and Clotaire II, this son of Fredegonde will be ground to dust—it must be—it must be—my vengeance must be complete."
"And it will be, madam. Until now, your enemies have all fallen under your blows. The death of Fredegonde's son will crown the work. I must, nevertheless, admit that this Duke Warnachaire makes me feel uneasy. Madam, these mayors of the palaces, who, forty-five or fifty years ago, under the reign of the sons of old Clotaire, began with being the intendants of the royal palaces, and who, ever since, have by little and littlebecome the actual governors of the people, I fear me that these mayors of the palaces will end by swallowing up the kings, if the kings do not suppress them. These able folks say to the princes: 'Keep concubines, drink, play, hunt, sleep, squander the money that we fill your treasuries with, enjoy your lives, bother not with matters of government, we shall take charge of that burden.' These are dangerous and wicked proceedings, madam. That a mother, a grandmother should act in that manner towards her sons and grandsons, that is allowable; but with mayors of the palace it becomes usurpation; and this Warnachaire, whom you allowed to retain his office of mayor after Thierry's death is bent, it seems to me, upon dominating Sigebert and ousting you, madam. I know that with the tall or the short slave we shall be able to hold our own against the duke—but never forget your exile from Metz, madam!"
"You are preaching to one already converted. I recently wrote to Aimoin, who returns with Warnachaire, to kill him on the way back."
"Oh, glorious Queen, why did you not say so before! I would have spared you my rhetoric."
"But unfortunately Aimoin failed to carry out my orders. Warnachaire is still alive."
"Why did he not obey?"
"I do not yet know; I may learn the reason to-day."
"At any rate we should not be hasty in thinking ill of Aimoin. Perhaps no favorable opportunity presented itself; who knows but you may yet see him return alone with Sigebert. And if not, once Warnachaire is back at Chalon, in this castle, his fate, madam, will be in the hollow of your hand—and you should not hesitate to strike. Oh, these mayors of the palaces, these mayors of the palaces! I look upon them as the gravest danger to the royal family. You may be certain, madam, that the royal family will never enjoy safety until it will have rid itself of these daily more dangerous rivals."
"We need time to overthrow their power. They have drawn around them all the beneficiary seigneurs whom the royal generosity enriched. Oh! Time! Time! Oh, how short is life. I need time; combined with it, will-power and force can do all. The time that I need is a long reign; I shall have it. The barbarian tribes on the other side of the Rhine have responded to our call; they will join our army. Thanks to their reinforcements, the troops of Clotaire will be crushed, and the son of Fredegonde will fall into my power! Oh! To inflict upon the son a slow death under the protracted tortures that I prepared for his mother! To avenge by his agony the murder of my sister Galeswinthe, and of my husband Sigebert! To take possession of Clotaire's kingdom and reign alone, the undisputed mistress of all Gaul for many a long year! That is my aim. And it will be reached. I feel myself full of life, strength and will-power!"
"You will live a hundred years and more."
"I believe it. I feel it. Aye, I feel within me indomitable will and vitality. To reign! the ambition of great souls! To reign like the Emperors of Rome! I wish to emulate them in all their sovereign omnipotence! I wish to count by the millions the instruments of my will! I wish, by a mere gesture, to cause the power of my arms to be felt from one confine of the world to the other! I wish to increase my kingdom to an infinite extent! I wish to be able to say: 'All these countries, from the nearest to the most distant, belong to me! I wish to concentrate the forces of all nations into my own hands and to cause all the peoples of the earth to bend under my yoke! I wish to raise in all parts of Gaul the marvels of art that now cover Burgundy—fortified castles, magnificent palaces, gold-naved basilicas, wide and interminable highways, prodigious monuments, all of which will in all the centuries to come re-echo the name of Brunhild! Should I allow vulgar scruples to stay my hand, having such grand designs in view? No! No! Couldthese children whom I unman, could these men whom I kill because they hinder my progress—could they or any of them as much as conceive my gigantic designs? Of what value to the world is the life of these obscure victims? Their bones will have turned to dust, their names will be buried in oblivion, when my name, repeated from age to age, will continue to amaze posterity!"
"And these will be valid reasons for the priests and bishops, who besiege you with applications for grants of land and money, to pardon your crimes."
"I forbid you to say an evil word against the priests; it is they who draw my triumphal car—"
"The team is rather ruinous."
"Not to me. Do the gifts that I bestow upon them impoverish me? Is not that which I give them, the overflow of my overflow? Moreover, they will aid me in restoring the imposts formerly decreed by the emperors, and thereby to replenish my coffers. Here, take this key; open the little coffer yonder on the table, and look for a roll of parchment tied in a purple ribbon."
"Here it is, madam."
"Kiss the parchment, it is written on by the hand of the representative of God on earth, a Pope—the pious Gregory himself—"
"And does the sovereign pontiff, the successor of St. Peter, as he claims, he who holds in his hands the keys of paradise, promise to open them wide for you?"
"It is but just. Have I not amply gilded those keys of paradise? Read over again to me what the parchment contains."
"'Gregory to Brunhild, Queen of the Franks. The manner in which you govern the kingdom and preside over the education of your son give witness to the virtues of your Excellency, virtues that must be praised and that are pleasing to God. You did not content yourself with leaving intact to your son theglory of temporal things, you also laid up for him the great riches of eternal life by causing, with pious maternal solicitude the germs of the true faith to take root in his soul.'"
The reading of the papal epistle was interrupted at this point by the noise of many children's laughter that proceeded from the contiguous chamber. Almost immediately thereupon the three younger brothers of Sigebert, who was then absent on the journey to Germany, rushed in, followed by their governesses. The little ones ran to their great-grandmother. Childebert, the eldest of the three, was ten years of age; Corbe nine, and Merovee, the youngest, six. The poor children, born of a father who was almost worn out, even before adolescence, through all manner of early excesses, were delicate, frail, dreamy, and painful to behold. Even their mirth had a saddening effect. Their cheeks were hollow, they were sicklied over by a pallor that betrayed ill health, and that rendered their eyes exceptionally large and weird. Their long hair, the symbol of Frankish royalty, fell thin upon their shoulders. They wore short dalmaticas of gold and silver thread. The governesses respectfully bent their knees at the entrance of the hall and remained at the door, while the children ran forward and surrounded their great-grandmother. Childebert remained standing near her; Corbe and Merovee, the two youngest, climbed upon her knees, as she said to them:
"You seem to be in good spirits this morning, my dear children! What is the reason of your joy?"
"Grandmother, it is our brother Corbe, who made us laugh."
"What did Corbe do that was so funny?"
"He plucked all the feathers off his white turtle dove—and she screeched so—she screeched—"
"And you laughed—you laughed—you little imps!"
"Yes, grandmother, but our little brother Merovee wept."
"Did he laugh so hard that he cried?"
"Oh, no; I wept because the bird bled."
"And I thereupon told Merovee: 'You have no courage, if blood frightens you! And when we go to battle, will you weep there also at the sight of blood?'"
"And while Corbe was saying so to Merovee, I took a knife and cut the dove's head off. Oh, I am not afraid of blood; not I; and when I am a big man I shall go to war, not so grandmother?"
"Ah, children! You know not what you are wishing. It is easy to amuse yourselves cutting off the heads of doves, without feeling obliged some day to go to war. To make war means to ride day and night, suffer hunger, heat and cold, to sleep under tents, and what is worst of all, run the risk of being wounded and killed, all of which causes great pain. Is it not far better, dear children, to promenade quietly in a cart or a litter, to lie down in a soft bed, eat dainties, have fun all day long, and please your whims? The blood of royal families is too precious a thing to expose it recklessly, my pretty little kinglets. You have your leudes to go to war and fight the enemy in battle, your servants to kill the people who may displease or offend you; your priests to order the people to obey you. So, you see, all you have to do is to amuse yourselves, to enjoy the delights of life, happy children that you are, having nothing to say but 'I will.' Do you understand these words well, my dear little ones? Answer, Childebert, you being the eldest and therefore most intelligent."
"Oh, yes, grandmother; I am no more anxious than otherpeople to go to war in search of lance-thrusts; I prefer to amuse myself, and do what I please. But why, then, did our brother Sigebert go away on horseback, followed by armed men, and accompanied by Warnachaire?"
"Your brother is ailing; the physicians have advised letting him undertake a long trip for the good of his health."
"Will he be back soon?"
"To-morrow, perhaps—perhaps even to-day."
"Oh, so much the better, grandmother! So much the better! His place will not then be empty in our room—we miss him—"
"Be not too glad on that score, my little kinglets. Henceforth, Sigebert will inhabit his own royal mansion, he will have his own servants and his separate room. Oh, he will be like a little man!"
"But he is only one year older than I!"
"Oh, oh! In a year you also will be a little man, my little Childebert," replied Brunhild exchanging a diabolical glance with Chrotechilde; "you will then also have your royal establishment and your separate room—your chamberlains, your equerries, your slaves, all of them submissive to your every whim, like dogs to the switch."
"Oh, how I would like to be a year older, so as to have all those things that you promise me!"
"And so would I like to see you older—and Corbe also—and also Merovee, I would like to see you all of the age of Sigebert."
"Patience, madam," said Chrotechilde again exchanging infernal glances with Brunhild; "patience; it will all come about—but what noise is that in the large hall? I hear numerous steps approaching—it must be seigneur Warnachaire!"
Chrotechilde was not mistaken. The mayor of the palace of Burgundy had arrived, and now stepped, accompanied by Sigebert, into the chamber where Brunhild and her confidante were conversing with the kinglets, and anticipating the future with diabolical foresight.
Sigebert, a boy of barely eleven, was like his brothers, frail, sickly and pale. Nevertheless, what with the excitement of the journey and the joy at seeing his brothers, a slight flush suffused his sweet, wan face, which not all the execrable precepts of his grandmother had succeeded in depriving of its angelic appearance. He ran to embrace the aged Queen and then joyfully reciprocated the caresses and answered the volley of questions of his little brothers, who crowded around him. To each he handed some slight presents, which he brought from his journey and were locked in a small coffer that he took from the hands of one of his suite, and impulsively opened in order to give his brothers a token of remembrance. Chrotechilde availed herself of a favorable moment, and approaching the Queen said in a low voice:
"Madam, if you will take my advice, keep the two slaves until evening—between now and then we shall have time to make up our minds."
"Yes, that will be the best thing to do," answered Brunhild; and addressing the child: "You should now retire for rest, and you can talk with your brothers about your journey. I have matters of importance to consider with Duke Warnachaire."
Chrotechilde led away the children, and the Queen remained alone with the mayor of the palace of Burgundy, a man of tallstature, and face cold, impenetrable, resolute. He wore a rich steel armor trimmed with gold after the Roman fashion. His long sword hung from his side, his long dagger was in his belt. After attaching a long and scrutinizing look upon Warnachaire who, however, remained impassible, Brunhild motioned him to a seat near the table, and let herself down into one opposite, saying:
"What tidings do you bring?"
"Good—and bad, madam—"
"First the bad."
"The treason of Dukes Arnolfe and Pepin, as well as the defection of several great seigneurs of Austrasia, is no longer a matter of doubt. They have deserted our colors and passed over to the camp of Clotaire II with all their men; they are now preparing to march against your army."
"I have long expected their treason. Oh, seigneurs, enriched and made powerful by the bounty of the Kings, you are yet able to carry ingratitude to such lengths! Very well! I prefer open war to subterraneous manoeuvres. The domains, Salic lands and benefices of the traitors will all return to my fisc. Proceed."
"Clotaire II raised his camp at Andernach, and has penetrated to the heart of Austrasia. Being summoned to respect the kingdoms of his nephews, whose guardian you are, he answered that he would submit only to the judgment of the grandees of Austrasia and of Burgundy themselves."
"Fredegonde's son expects to raise the people and seigneurs of my kingdoms in rebellion against me. He deceives himself. Prompt and terrible examples will terrify all would-be traitors."
"Well said, madam!"
"All the traitors—whatever their rank may be, whatever their power, whatever the mask that they assume! Do you hear, Warnachaire, mayor of the palace of Burgundy?"
"I hear even what you do not say to me—but I bow before my Queen."
"Do you read my thoughts?"
"You take me for a traitor. You consider me your enemy, especially since your recent return from Worms."
"I am on my guard against everybody."
"Your suspicions, madam, have become certitude. You told Aimoin, one of our men, to stab me to death."
"I order only my enemies to be despatched."
"Accordingly, I am an enemy to you, madam, at least you look upon me as such. Here are the fragments of the letter, written in your own hand, and ordering Aimoin to kill me."
And the duke deposited several fragments of parchment upon the table; the Queen looked defiantly at the mayor of the palace.
"Did Aimoin give you that letter?"
"No, madam; accident placed these fragments into my hands."
"And yet you return to the palace?"
"In order to prove to you the injustice of your suspicions; that is the reason I have returned to the place where you are sovereign."
"Or perhaps you come to betray me."
"Madam, if I had wished to betray you, I would have repaired, as so many other seigneurs of Burgundy have done, not hither, but to the camp of Clotaire II. I would have placed your grandson as a hostage in his hands, and I would have remained in your enemy's camp, together with the tribes that I brought with me from Germany."
"Those tribes are devoted to my interests; they would have refused to follow you; they have come for the purpose of reinforcing my army."
"Those tribes, madam, have come for the purpose of pillage, and little do they care whether they be indulged as auxiliariesof Brunhild or of Clotaire II, whether it be against the country of Soissons, of Burgundy or of Austrasia. These Franks have no predilections, provided only that, after they shall have fought bravely and helped in winning the victory, they will be free to ravage the vanquished country, gather a large booty, and lead numerous slaves back with them to the other side of the Rhine—such are the Franks whom I have brought."
"And I tell you that the sight of my grandson, the infant King, asking through your mouth the assistance of the Germans, interested the barbarians in his cause, and secured the success of your mission."
"Had you not expressly promised the Franks the pillage of the vanquished territories, they would have remained unaffected by the youth of Sigebert; they are as savage as were our fathers, the first companions of Clovis. It was with no little trouble that I succeeded in preventing them from ravaging all the districts that we traversed on our route; in their impatience of savages they imagined themselves already in vanquished territory. Every day their chiefs called upon me at the top of their voices to deliver battle, in order that they might begin the plundering and return laden with booty to Germany, before the winter season sets in."
"Where are the Franks now?"
"I left them near Montsarran."
"Why so far from Chalon?"
"Despite all I could do to prevent it, those savages killed and stole on their passage. To bring them here to the center of Burgundy, and then send them out again in some other direction, according as the requirements of the war may demand or the facilities for provisioning may require, would be to expose the territories that may have to be traversed to untold and unnecessary disasters. Such afflictions may fan the spark of rebellion among our people—because, as you know, madam, thepeople are growing restive even on this side of the frontier of Burgundy."
"Yes—at the instigation of the traitors who have gone over to Fredegonde's son, there are some seigneurs who are seeking to raise the people in rebellion against me—against the 'Romish Woman,' as they call me. Oh, seigneurs and people will feel the weight of Brunhild's arm!"
"The enemies of Brunhild will always tremble before her; nevertheless, I fear to increase their number by exposing our people to be victimized by the barbarism of our new allies. I doubt not that the territory where I have had those troops encamp will be laid waste, but the evil effect of their conduct will be at least limited to the spot. Moreover, the location is central enough to enable us to expedite these auxiliaries in whatever direction the movements of Clotaire II may render necessary. As you see, I have acted with foresight."
"What is the temper of the army?"
"It is full of ardor; it only asks to be led to battle. The remembrance of the last two victories of Toul and Tolbiac, above all, of the immense booty, the large number of slaves that the troops carried away—all that fires them with the desire to fight the son of Fredegonde. These, madam, are the good tidings that counterbalance the evil ones. Is Brunhild still of the opinion that Warnachaire has conducted himself like a traitor, and does she still entertain the idea of having him stabbed to death?"
"A man whom one has sought to do away with, who learns the fact, and who still comes back—Oh, Warnachaire, that needs careful attention!"
"Brunhild is quick to suspect and to punish, but she is magnificent towards those who serve her faithfully."
"You have, then, a favor to ask of me?"
"Yes, madam; but only after the war is ended, or, rather,I expect it after the victory that I shall win over Clotaire II, when I deliver him to you tied hands and feet."
"Warnachaire!" cried the Queen thrilling with wild delight at the thought of having Fredegonde's son in her power; "if you deliver Clotaire a prisoner in my hands, I shall challenge you to express a wish that Brunhild will not gratify, and—" but recollecting herself, she suddenly stopped short, cast a somber, scrutinizing glance at the mayor of the palace and proceeded: "Can it be your purpose to spread a snare for me and lull my suspicions? Warnachaire, if your purpose is to betray me—"
"Madam, you look upon me as a traitor. If you but ring that bell, instantly your chamberlains and equerries will rush in and kill me before your very eyes. So that you may consider me dead. But who is the man whom you do not suspect? Whom will you take for your general? Duke Alethee, perchance, or Duke Roccon?"
"No! Neither the one nor the other!"
"Sigowald, perhaps?"
"You are mocking! He is my personal enemy."
"Perhaps Eubelan?"
"I have not yet forgotten his criminal relations with Arnolfe and Pepin—the two traitors! He no doubt is considering how to follow their example, and to go over to the enemy. No; I will not trust Eubelan! He also is an enemy."
"Yet, madam, they are all capable of captaining the army; they are all experienced and brave chiefs."
"Yes, but I have not proposed to kill them—at least they do not know that I had any such intention—while, as to you, I have ordered your death, and what is more to the purpose, you are aware of it."
"You think me animated with a sentiment of revenge towards you because I know that you meant to have me stabbed to death. If it is the hope of vengeance that has brought me back to you,what is there to prevent me from laying my hand upon this bell, and depriving you of the means to give the alarm?"
And the duke did what he said.
"What prevents me from drawing this dagger?"
And the duke held the glistening weapon before the eyes of Brunhild, whose first impulse was to throw herself back and her arms forward.
"What, in short, prevents me from killing you with one blow of this dagger, which is poisoned as were the daggers of Fredegonde's pages?"
And as he uttered these words, Warnachaire drew so close to Brunhild that he could strike her before she was able to utter a single cry. Excepting a first movement of surprise, the Queen did not even wink her eyes; her indomitable orbs remained resolutely fixed upon those of the mayor of the palace. With a look of disdain she pushed aside the dagger's blade, remained pensive for an instant, and then observed regretfully:
"One is bound to put faith in something. You could have killed me—that is true; you have not done so—I can not deny the fact. Your purpose is not to take revenge upon me—unless you mean to reserve me for a fate more terrible than death. But that is not likely. The man who hates does not resort to such hazardous and refined schemes. The future belongs to none. If the opportunity offers to strike an enemy, the blow is dealt hard and firmly. I therefore conclude that you are not animated by secret hatred toward me. You shall keep the command of the army. Listen, Warnachaire, Brunhild is implacable in her suspicions and her hatred, but she is magnificent towards those who serve her faithfully. Let Fredegonde's son fall into my hands, and my favor will transcend your expectations. Let us forget the past, let us be friends."
"The past is forgotten, madam, as far as I am concerned."
"Now let us argue calmly, Warnachaire. Let us sift things to the bottom. I did mean to have you killed—that is true! Ihave had so many others killed! But it never was out of taste for blood. My sister Galeswinthe was killed, my husband was killed, my son was killed, my most faithful servants were killed. Single-handed have I been compelled to defend the kingdom of my son and grandsons against the kings who are bent upon my destruction. Whatever weapon was available was good to me; and after all, I have won brilliant victories, I have accomplished great things. All this notwithstanding I am hated; the Frankish seigneurs envy me; the vile Gallic plebs, whether slave or free, is silently resentful towards me, and would rebel if it were not curbed by the terror I inspire it with. But look! Look at that man! Who is he?" cried Brunhild breaking off her sentence in the middle, and, precipitately rising, she pointed at Loysik, who stood at the door connecting with the secret spiral staircase, and who was pushing aside with one arm the leather curtain that had until then hid him from the eyes of the Queen and the mayor of the palace of Burgundy. Warnachaire took a few steps towards the aged hermit laborer, who advanced slowly into the chamber, and said to him:
"Monk, how come you here? Great is your audacity to dare to introduce yourself into the Queen's apartment—who are you?"
"I am the superior of the monastery of the Valley of Charolles."
"You lie!" broke in Brunhild. "One of my chamberlains is at the abbey at this hour to seize the superior, and bring him to me in irons."
"Your chamberlain," replied the monk, "your chamberlain, together with the archdeacon and all their armed men, is at this hour a prisoner in the monastery."
To announce such news, no less improbable than offensive to the pride of Brunhild; to announce it to that implacable woman, and thus to expose himself to certain death—the action seemed so exorbitant that the Queen did not believe themonk's words; she shrugged her shoulders with a look of disdainful pity, and said to the major of the palace:
"Duke, that old man is out of his senses. But how did he contrive to enter the palace?"
Other circumstances soon combined to confirm Brunhild's belief in the monk's insanity. Loysik had continued to advance slowly towards the Queen, but despite his spirit's firmness, of which he had given so many a proof during his long life, in the measure that he drew nearer to the horror-inspiring woman, his self-possession gradually forsook him, his mind became troubled, he felt his knees trembling under him, and he was constrained to lean against an ivory stand that was within his reach. The profound, unconquerable emotion was caused by the horror that the Queen inspired in the venerable monk, together with the consciousness of the terrible position in which he found himself.
With his head drooping upon his chest, he sought to collect himself and to gather his thoughts. His eyes wandered over the medal-case that lay upon the ivory stand against which he leaned. The large bronze medal that lay among the others drew to itself the monk's attention all the more readily, seeing that it was the only one of a vulgar metal, all the others being of either gold or silver. At first Loysik contemplated it mechanically, but being presently attracted towards it by an undefinable interest, he stooped over, looked at it more closely, approached his head nearer in order better to see the imprint, and deciphered the inscription that was under the august profile, that seemed to stand out lustrous from the bronze. A thrill ran over the frame of the aged man; a sudden, an extraordinary feeling seized him, a feeling in which enthusiasm, stupor and hope were mingled into one. The confusion into which his mind was thrown an instant before ceased; he felt reassured and strengthened as if he had encountered a support as unexpected as it was powerful; in short, it seemed to him a providential circumstanceto encounter—the image of Victoria in the palace of Brunhild.
Loysik had bent down in order to contemplate more closely the features of the Gallic heroine; as he recognized them, he bowed a knee and stretching his arms towards the august effigy, he murmured:
"O, Victoria—holy woman-warrior in behalf of Gaul! Your presence in this horrid place fortifies my soul; it seems to impart to me the necessary strength to save the descendants of Schanvoch, of the faithful soldier whom you called your brother, and who was one of my ancestors!"
Astonished at the oddity of the appearance and conduct of the old monk, Brunhild and Warnachaire now followed him with their eyes, now looked at each other in silence during the short instants that Loysik recognized and contemplated the image of Victoria. More and more convinced that the monk was out of his mind, the Queen lost all patience, stamped with her foot on the floor and cried:
"Duke, call in my pages; let them drive out of this room with their switches this crazy man who pretends to be the abbot of the monastery of Charolles, and who kneels before my antique medals."
Brunhild was still issuing these orders when one of the pages entered by the door that connected with the large hall, and bending a knee said to her:
"Glorious Queen, a messenger has just arrived from the army; he brings pressing despatches for seigneur Warnachaire."
"That is of greater importance, duke. Receive the messenger and return quickly to inform me of the tidings that he brings;" and then, addressing the page and pointing to Loysik, who, with head erect and firm steps was now advancing toward her, she proceeded: "Fetch in some of your assistants and drive out that dotard with your switches; the loss of his senses saves him from a more severe punishment." Saying this, the Queen rose from her seat, and stepping towards her bedchamber, once more urged the mayor of the palace: "Warnachaire, return as soon as possible and let me know what tidings the messenger bears. You will read me the despatches."
"I shall go, madam, and receive him instantly. But what of this crazy man? What is to be done with him?"
"Leave that to my pages!"
The mayor of the palace withdrew. Through the door, left open by him, and without stepping out of the apartment, the page called out to several of his companions who stood in waiting in the contiguous hall. Loysik, on his part, seeing that, without taking any more notice of him than of an insane man, the Queen was returning to her bedchamber, ran towards Brunhild, and holding before her a parchment scroll that he drew from his robe, said to her in a firm and collected voice:
"I am not crazy. This charter signed by the late King Clotaire will prove to you that I am the superior of the monastery of Charolles, where your chamberlain and his soldiers are, at this hour, retained prisoners by my orders."
"Loysik!" exclaimed one of the young pages who entered the apartment in response to the call of their companion. "Brother Loysik here?"
"What! This monk!" cried Brunhild stupefied. "Is he Loysik, the abbot of the monastery of Charolles?"
"Yes, glorious Queen. He is the venerable abbot."
"How come you to know him?"
"He was pointed out to me at the last slave market. The worthy abbot was buying slaves to set them free. I saw him again this morning crossing one of the courtyards of the palace in the company of Samuel and two young girls."
For a moment Brunhild remained thoughtful, and then ordering the other pages out of the chamber with a wafture of her hand she addressed the one who had first come in.
"Go to Pog and tell him to get himself and his assistants ready in the cave. Let him light his fires and wait for further orders."
The page grew pale and bowed, but before leaving the chamber he cast a look of pity upon the old man. Left alone withLoysik, the Queen paced the room for a minute in silence and with agitated steps, and then turning abruptly upon the hermit laborer said to him in a short, sharp voice:
"So you are Loysik?"
"I am Loysik, the abbot and superior of the monastery of Charolles."
"How did you penetrate into this room?"
"This morning I met near the castle a slave merchant named Samuel; I had recently bought several slaves from him; he informed me that he was coming here; knowing that it was difficult to obtain access to the palace, I asked Samuel to allow me to accompany him; at first he hesitated; two gold pieces put an end to his hesitation."
"And as the gateman had received orders to admit Samuel and his slaves, you passed along with his merchandise! And did you remain in the room below while the Jew was showing me the two slave girls?"
Loysik nodded his head in the affirmative.
"And after Samuel left the palace?"
"The Jew having informed me that this room was reached from below by the spiral staircase, I came up a short time ago and concealed myself behind the curtain; I was a witness of your conversation with one of your women. I heard everything."
Brunhild looked at the monk with a questioning and threatening mien:
"And so you overheard everything that was said between us?"
"Yes; I listened and heard everything."
"Old man—do you know who Pog and his assistants are?"
"The executioner and his men."
"How old are you?"
"The age of a man about to die."
"You expect death?"
Loysik shrugged his shoulders without answering.
"You are right," proceeded Brunhild with a satanic smile."To bring such tidings as you did was to run into the jaws of death."
"I came here of my own free will; your chamberlain and his men remain prisoners at the monastery. No harm will be done them."
"You are mistaken. A terrible punishment awaits them! Infamy, cowardice, shame and treachery! An officer, Brunhild's men-at-arms made prisoners by a handful of monks! Pog and his men will have work to do."
"Your men-at-arms were not cowardly; even had they been more numerous, they could not have resisted the men of the monastery and the colonists of the Valley of Charolles."
"Why, they must be redoubtable men!"
"Not that. But they are people who are determined to die free, to bury themselves under the ruins of their homes if you ignore the rights guaranteed to them by the charter of the late King Clotaire."
"How dare you invoke such a charter in my presence! A charter of him who was Fredegonde's father-in-law! A charter of the grandfather of Clotaire II, the son of Fredegonde and no less a mortal enemy of mine than his mother herself! You dare mention to me a charter signed by the grandfather of a man whom I shall pursue into his grave! Insensate old man! I would burn down the tree that lent its shade to Fredegonde's son! I would have the spring poisoned that quenched that man's thirst! In your instance, the question is not about inanimate objects, but of men, women and children who owe their freedom to the grandfather of Fredegonde's son. It is in my power to make their souls and bodies, their whole generation, writhe with pain! Oh, no later than to-morrow all the inhabitants of that accursed valley will be sent as slaves to the savage tribes that have come from Germany. It will be but an advance payment on the pillage that was promised them."
"Very well. You will send troops to the Valley. They willforce their way in, arms in hand; they will crush our inhabitants despite any resistance that they may offer, and however heroic. Men, women and children will know how to die. After a stubborn fight, your soldiers will find upon their entrance into the Valley only corpses and ashes. But you seem to forget that war has been declared between you and Fredegonde's son, that the moment is critical, and that you require all your available forces in order to resist your enemies. Execrated by the people, execrated by the seigneurs, the leading ones of whom have already joined the standard of Clotaire II, you are hardly certain of the loyalty of your own army, seeing that you have been obliged to call savage tribes to your aid and to allure them with the prospect of pillage. You seem to forget that, guided by an unerring instinct, and seeing the power of the mayors of the palaces on the ascendant, the people look upon these as the natural enemies of the Frankish Kings and are ready to revolt in support of the former. Despite the heroic resistance that they will offer, our people of the Valley will be crushed. I admit it. But do you imagine that the surrounding populations, however timid and cowed they may be, will remain impassive when they will see people of their own race slaughtered to the last man in the defense of their freedom? The horror of conquest, the hatred for slavery, the unbearable hardships of poverty have more than once driven people steeped in deeper degradation than our own to serious and stubborn revolt. To-morrow, who knows! some frightful insurrection may break out against you, called into being by the voice of the grandees who abhor you."