From the solitude and darkness in which I was left at the departure of Elwig's sacrificial assistants, I could see the mouth of the cavern at some distance. The opening grew darker and darker as dusk yielded to night. Presently the gloom became complete, relieved only, from time to time, by the flickering light that the flames of the fire, kept alive under the huge brass caldron by the two hags, occasionally cast upon the grotto's mouth.
I tried to snap my bonds. With my hands and feet free, I would have endeavored to disarm one of the Franks who guarded the issue, and, sword in hand, and protected by the darkness of the night, I would have reached the river bank guided by the sound of the rushing waves. Perhaps and notwithstanding the orders I gave him, Douarnek might not yet have rowed back to camp. But all my efforts proved futile against the bow-strings and the belt that held me fast. A muffled but increasing rumbling of feet and voices began to announce to me the arrival and assembling of a large number of people in the neighborhood of the cave. They must he doubtlessly gathering to witness my execution and listen to the auguries of the priestess.
I believed there was nothing left to me but to resign myself to my fate. I turned my last thoughts to my wife and child.
Suddenly, from the thickest of the surrounding darkness I heard the voice of Elwig two steps behind me. I started with surprise. I was certain she did not enter by the mouth of the cavern.
"Follow me," she said.
At the same moment her feverish hand seized mine and held it firmly.
"How came you here?" I asked her stupefied, with hope re-rising in my breast, and endeavoring to walk.
"The cavern has two issues," Elwig answered. "One of them is secret and known to me only. It is by that entrance that I came in, while the kings are waiting for me at the other entrance near the caldron. Come! Come! Take me to the bark where the treasure lies, where you left the necklaces, bracelets, diadems and other jewels!"
"My legs are tied," I said. "I can hardly put one foot before the other."
Elwig did not answer, but I could feel that she was cutting with her knife the leather strap and the bow-strings that bound my arms and legs. I was free!
"And your brother," I inquired, following close upon her footsteps, "has he regained consciousness?"
"Neroweg is still dazed, like a bull whom the butcher did not kill outright. He awaits in his hut the hour of your execution. I am to notify him in time. He wishes to see you suffer and die. Come, come!"
"The darkness is so intense that I can not see before me."
"Give me your hand."
"Should your brother tire of waiting," I observed as she almost dragged me along through the windings of the secret issue, "and should he enter the sacred wood with the otherchieftains and not find either you or me in the cavern, what will happen? Will they not immediately start in pursuit of us?"
"Only I know this secret issue. When they miss both you and me from the cave, my brother and the chiefs will believe that I made you descend to the gods of the nether world. They will be all the more afraid of me. Come! Come quick!"
While Elwig thus spoke I was following her through so narrow a passage that I felt myself grazing the rocks on either side. The passage seemed at first to dip down towards the bowels of the earth, but presently its ascent became so steep and difficult for my legs, still numb from their recent ligatures, that it was with difficulty I kept step with the hurrying priestess. We had been for some time in the maze of the underground cave when at last I felt the fresh air strike my face. I imagined we were about to step into the open.
"To-night, after I shall have killed my brother in revenge for his outrages upon me," Elwig explained to me in abrupt words, "I shall flee with a king whom I love. He is waiting for us outside. He is strong, brave and well armed. He will accompany us to your bark. If you deceived me, Riowag will kill you—do you hear me, Gaul? You will fall under his axe."
I was little affected by the threat—my hands were free—my only uneasiness was whether Douarnek and the bark still waited for me.
A moment later we issued out of the cavern. The stars shone so brilliant in the sky that once out of the wood inwhich we still were, I was certain I would be able to see my way before me.
The priestess stopped for a moment and called:
"Riowag!"
"Riowag is here," answered a voice so close to me that I realized the chief of the black warriors was near enough to be able to touch me. Nevertheless, it was in vain that I sought to distinguish his black shape in the dark. It became clearer to me than ever before how, by rendering themselves undistinguishable in the dark, these men could not choose but be dangerous foes in a night assault or ambuscade.
"Is it far from here to the river bank?" I asked Riowag. "You must know the spot where I landed; you were the chief of the band that greeted me with a volley of arrows."
"No, we have not far to go," Riowag answered.
"Shall we have to cross the camp?" I inquired, perceiving the lights of the Frankish encampment at a little distance.
Neither of my two guides made any answer. They exchanged a few words in a low voice, each took me by an arm, and they struck into a path that led away from the camp. Soon the roar of the rushing waters of the Rhine reached our ears. We drew rapidly near the shore. Finally from the height of the embankment on which we stood, I could distinguish a bluish sheet of water across the darkness—it was the river!
"We shall now ascend the beach about two hundred feet," said Riowag; "we shall then be at the spot where you reached land under our arrows. Your bark must be only a little distance from there. If you deceived us your blood will redden the beach, and the waters of the Rhine will wash away your corpse."
"Can we call out from the bank without being heard by the outposts of the camp?" I asked the Frank.
"The wind blows off shore," Riowag answered with the sagacity of a savage. "You can freely raise your voice and call; you will not be heard at the camp, and your voice will surely travel to the middle of the stream."
Riowag walked a few steps further and then stopped.
"It is here," he said, "where you reached land; your bark must be anchored near by. I am a professional night warrior, and am able to see through the dark, but I can not distinguish your bark."
"Oh! You deceived us! You deceived us!" murmured Elwig in a subdued voice. "You will die for it!"
"It may be," I observed, "that, after having waited for me in vain, the bark may have just left its anchorage. The wind will carry my voice far; I shall call."
Saying this I raised our battle cry of rally, well known to Douarnek.
Only the sound of the waves made answer.
Doubtlessly Douarnek had followed my orders and rowed back to camp at sunset.
I uttered our war cry a second time and louder than the first.
Again the only response was the rushing of the waves.
Meaning to gain time and prepare myself for defense, I said to Elwig: "The wind blows off shore; it carries my voice to the river; but it blows back the voices that may have answered my signal. Let us listen!"
While I spoke I strained my eyes to peer through the dark and discover the weapons that Riowag was armed with. In his belt he carried a dagger; in his hand his short, broadsword. Although he and his beloved were close to me, one on each side, I could elude them with a bound, plunge into the river, and escape by swimming. I was watching for my opportunity when suddenly the distant and rhythmic sound of oars reached my ears. My call was heard by Douarnek.
In the measure that the decisive instant approached, the suspense and uneasiness of Elwig and her companion increased. To kill me would be to renounce the possession of the treasure, which, I had clearly told them, my soldiers would deliver only at my orders. But again, to allow the latter to disembark would be to furnish me with auxiliaries and render mine the stronger side. Elwig no doubt began to realize that her greed had carried her too far. Seeing the bark draw nearer she said to me in great excitement:
"The sacredness of the Gallic word is proverbial. You owe your life to me. I hope you did not deceive me with a false promise."
That priestess of the nether world, the incestuous and blood-thirsty monster, who had meant to cut out my tongue in order to make sure of my silence, and who calmly contemplated adding fratricide to her other crimes, had saved my life moved thereto only by base greed. Nevertheless, I could not remain insensible to her appeal to Gallic faith. I almost regretted the lie I had uttered, however excusable it might be in view of the treachery that the Frankish warriors had practiced towards me. At that critical moment I was, however, bound to consider my own safety only. I jumped at Riowag, and after a violent struggle in which Elwig did not venture to take a hand, out of fear that she might wound her lover while seeking to strike me, I succeeded in disarming the warrior.Soon as that was done I threw myself into a posture of defense with the sword in my hand and cried:
"No, I have no treasure for you, Elwig, but if you fear to return to your brother, follow me. Victoria will treat you kindly; you will not be a prisoner; I give you my word; you may rely upon the faith of a Gaul."
Both the priestess and Riowag refused to listen; breaking out into wild imprecations they made a furious rush at me. In the tussle that ensued I killed the black warrior at the moment when he sought to stab me with his dagger, and I was wounded in the hand in the attempt to wrench the knife from Elwig's grasp. I had just succeeded and thrown the weapon into the water when, attracted by the noise of the struggle, Douarnek and one of the soldiers leaped upon the shore to hasten to my help.
"Schanvoch," Douarnek said quickly to me, "we did not follow your orders and row back at sunset. We remained at our anchorage, resolved to wait for you until morning. But thinking that you might issue at some other spot than where you landed, we rowed up and down along the shore. When we saw you this morning surrounded by those black devils, our first impulse was to row straight to the bank and suffer death beside you. But I recalled your orders, and we considered that for us to be killed was to cut off your retreat. But here you are, hale and sound. Now take my advice and let us return quickly to camp. These skinners of human bodies are ill neighbors to dwell among."
While Douarnek was speaking to me, Elwig threw herself upon the corpse of Riowag and rent the air with roars of rage interspersed with sobs. However detestable the creaturewas, her paroxysm of grief touched my heart. I was about to address her when Douarnek cried:
"Schanvoch, look at the torches approaching yonder!"
Saying this Douarnek pointed in the direction of the Frankish camp. Luminous streaks were seen rapidly approaching through the dark.
"Your flight has been discovered, Elwig," I said to her, and sought to tear her from her lover's corpse, which she held clasped in a close embrace and over which she moaned piteously. "Your brother has started in your pursuit—you have not a minute to lose—come!—come!—or you are lost!"
"Schanvoch," Douarnek said to me as I vainly sought to drag away Elwig, who seemed not to hear me and sobbed aloud, "the torches are carried by armed horsemen! Listen to the clanging of their weapons! Listen to the tramp of their horses! They cannot be further than six bow shots! I beached the bark in order to reach you all the quicker! We shall have barely time to put it afloat! Would you have us all killed? If that is your purpose, say so, and we shall die like brave men; but if you mean to flee, it is high time that you move!"
"It is your brother! It is death that is approaching!" I once more cried to Elwig, whom I could not bring myself to abandon without one more effort to save her. After all, she did save my life. A minute later and she would be lost.
Seeing, however, that the priestess did not answer me, I cried to Douarnek:
"Give me a hand—let us take her away by force!"
It was impossible to tear Elwig from the corpse of Riowag; she held it in a convulsive embrace; the only alternativeleft was to carry off both bodies. We tried it, but soon gave up the attempt.
In the meantime the Frankish horsemen were approaching so rapidly that the light of their resinous torches projected itself as far as the beach. It was too late to save Elwig. Our bark was with difficulty pushed off; I took the rudder; Douarnek and the two remaining soldiers bent vigorously to their oars.
We were still within easy bowshot from the shore when, by the light of the torches that the troops carried, we saw the first hurrying Frankish horsemen ride up. At their head I recognized Neroweg, the Terrible Eagle, distinguishable by his colossal stature. He was closely followed by several other horsemen, all shouting with concentrated rage. Neroweg drove his horse up to the animal's neck into the river. His companions did the same, while they brandished their long lances with one hand and with the other their torches, whose ruddy reflections lighted far the waters of the river and fell upon our swiftly speeding bark.
Seated near the rudder, my back was turned to the bank and I remarked sadly to Douarnek:
"The miserable creature is killed by this time."
And propelled by the three vigorous oarsmen, our bark shot through the water.
"Is that a man, a woman, or a demon that is following us?" cried Douarnek a moment later, dropping his oar and rising on his feet in order to look at the track that our bark left behind, and that was lighted by the glimmer of the distant torches that the Frankish horsemen continued to brandish even after they gave up the pursuit.
I also rose to my feet and looked in the same direction. A second later I cried:
"Stop! Do not row! It is she! It is Elwig! Douarnek, hand me an oar! I shall reach it to her! She seems to be exhausted!"
So said, so done. Fleeing from her brother and certain death, the priestess had thrown herself into the water and must have swam after us with extraordinary vigor. She seized the extremity of the oar with a convulsive grasp; two strokes of the oars backed the bark to her; and aided by one of the soldiers I was able to draw Elwig on board.
"Blessed be the gods!" I cried. "I would always have reproached myself for your death."
The priestess made no answer; she let herself down on the bench of one of the oarsmen, and shrinking into a heap with her face between her knees, remained ominously silent. The oarsmen rowed vigorously on, and from time to time I looked back at the receding river bank. The torches of the Frankish horsemen glimmered fitfully, luminous spots through the haze of the night and the vapors that rose from the river. The end of our passage drew near; we began to distinguish the lights of our own encampment on the opposite bank. Several times I addressed Elwig, but received no answer. I threw over her shoulders and her clothes, wet with the chilly waters of the Rhine, the thick night cloak of one of the soldiers. In doing this I touched one of her arms; it was feverishly warm. A stranger to all that happened in the bark, the woman did not emerge from her savage silence. As I jumped ashore I said to Neroweg's sister:
"I shall take you to-morrow to Victoria. Until then Itender you the hospitality of my house. My wife and her sister will treat you like a friend."
She made me a sign to lead the way, and she followed. Douarnek then approached me and said in a low voice:
"If you take my advice, Schanvoch, after the she-devil, who I know not for what reason swam after you, has dried and warmed herself at your hearth, you will lock her up safely until morning. She might otherwise strangle your wife and child during the night. There is nothing more wily and ferocious than these Frankish women."
"It will be a wise precaution to take," I answered Douarnek.
And accompanied by Elwig, who, somber and silent, followed me like a specter, I proceeded homeward.
The night was far advanced. I had reached within a few steps from my house when I saw through the dark a man crouching on the sill of one of the windows. He seemed to be peeping through the shutters. I gave a start. It was the window of my wife's room.
I seized Elwig's arm and said to her in a low voice:
"Do not budge—wait—"
She stopped and stood motionless. Controlling my emotion I advanced cautiously, seeking to avoid making the sand crunch under my feet. I failed. My steps were heard; the man jumped down from the window sill and fled. I rushed after him. Thinking that I meant to leave her in the lurch, Elwig ran after me, overtook me and seized me by the arm, crying with terror:
"If I am found alone in the Gallic camp I shall be killed!"
Despite all I could do, I could not disengage myself of Elwig's hold until after the man had vanished from sight. He had too long a lead and the night was too dark for me to endeavor to catch him. Surprised and uneasy at the incident, I retraced my steps, and knocked at the door of my house.
I could hear from within the voices of my wife and her sister, who seemed uneasy at my prolonged absence. Althoughthey knew not that I had gone to the Frankish camp, they had not yet retired.
"It is I!" I cried to them. "It is I, Schanvoch!"
The door was no sooner opened than my wife, seeing me by the light that Sampso held in her hand, threw herself into my arms, saying in a tone of sweet and tender reproach:
"At last you are back! We began to feel alarmed about you, seeing you were gone since early morning."
"And we, who counted upon you for our little feast," put in Sampso; "but I suppose you met with old comrades in arms, and time passed quickly in their company."
"Yes, I suppose the conversation was strung out over battles," added Ellen still hanging on my neck, "and my dear Schanvoch forgot his wife, just a little—"
Ellen was interrupted by a cry from Sampso. She did not at first notice Elwig, who had remained in shadow near the door. At the sight, however, of the savage creature—pale, sinister and motionless—my wife's sister could not repress her surprise and involuntary fear. Ellen quickly stepped back, noticed the presence of the priestess, and gazing at me as much surprised as her sister, said:
"Schanvoch, who is that woman?"
"Why, sister," cried Sampso forgetting the presence of Elwig and looking at me more closely, "look, the sleeves of Schanvoch's blouse are red with blood—he is wounded!"
My wife grew pale, stepped quickly back to me and anxiously scanned my face.
"Calm yourself," I answered; "my wounds are slight. I concealed from you both the mission on which I was bound. I went to the camp of the Franks, our savage foes. I carried a message from Victoria."
"To the camp of the Franks!" Ellen and Sampso cried terrified. "That meant death!"
"And this is the being who saved my life," I said to my wife, pointing at Elwig, who stood motionless at the door. "I must bespeak the attention of you both in her behalf until to-morrow."
When they learned that I owed my life to the Frankish woman my wife and her sister hastened toward Elwig, moved by a simultaneous impulse of gratitude; but they almost immediately stopped short, intimidated and even frightened by the sinister and impassive countenance of Elwig, the priestess, who seemed not to see them, and whose mind probably hovered over scenes far away.
"Give her some dry clothes, those that she has on are wet," I said to my wife and her sister. "She does not understand Gallic; your thanks will be lost upon her."
"Had she not saved your life," Ellen said to me, "I would think the woman's face looks somber and threatening."
"She is a savage like the rest of her people. Get her some dry clothes, and I shall take her to the little side room, where I shall lock her up as a matter of precaution."
Sampso went into a contiguous room to fetch a tunic and mantle for Elwig, while I said to my wife:
"Did you hear any noise at the window of your room to-night, shortly before I came in?"
"None whatever—neither did Sampso; she did not leave me since evening; we both felt uneasy at your absence. But why do you ask?"
I did not then answer my wife, seeing that Sampso at that moment returned with the clothes that she had gone after. I took them, passed them over to Elwig and said to her:
"My wife and her sister offer you these clothes. Yours are wet. Is there anything else that you wish? Are you hungry, or thirsty? What would you have?"
"I want solitude," was Elwig's answer, rejecting the proffered clothes with a gesture; "I want the black night. Only that will suit me at present."
"Very well—follow me," I said to her.
Leading the way, I opened the door of a little chamber, and raising the lamp in order to light its interior, I said to the priestess:
"You see yonder couch—rest yourself, and may the gods render peaceful to you the night that you are to pass under my roof."
Elwig made no answer; she threw herself upon the couch and covered her face with her hands.
"And now," I said to my wife as I closed and locked the door, "these duties of hospitality being attended to, I burn with the desire to embrace my little Alguen."
I found you, my child, sleeping peacefully in your cradle. I covered you with kisses, that were all the sweeter to me seeing I had that very day feared never to see you again. Your mother and her sister examined and bandaged my wounds. They were slight.
While Ellen and Sampso were attending to me, I spoke to them of the man whom I had caught sight of on the window sill, and who seemed to be peeping through the shutters. They were greatly astonished at my words; they had heard no sound; they had been together since evening. While talking over the matter, Ellen said to me:
"Did you hear the news?"
"No."
"Tetrik, the Governor of Gascony and relative of Victoria, arrived this evening. The Mother of the Camps rode out on horseback to meet him. We saw him go by."
"And did Victorin accompany his mother?"
"He rode beside her. That must be the reason that we did not see him during the day."
The arrival of Tetrik gave me food for reflection.
Sampso left me alone with Ellen. It was late. Early the next morning I was to report to Victoria and her son the result of my mission to the camp of the Franks.
Early in the morning I repaired to Victoria's residence. The humble house of the Mother of the Camps was reached through a long narrow path, skirted on either side by high ramparts that constituted the outer fortifications of one of the gates of Mayence. I was about twenty paces from the house when I heard behind me the following cries uttered in terror:
"Save yourself! Save yourself!"
Looking back, I saw with no little fright a two-wheeled cart dashing rapidly towards me. The cart was drawn by two horses whose driver had lost control over them.
I could jump off neither to the right nor the left of the narrow path to let the cart pass; its wheels almost grazed the opposite walls; I was still too far from Victoria's residence to hope for escape in that direction; however swiftly I might run, I would be overtaken by the horses and trampled under their hoofs long before I could have reached the door. There was nothing left for me to do but to face the runaways, and, however hopeless the prospect, to seize them by the bit and attempt to stop them. Accordingly, I rushed forward upon the animals with my hands raised. Oh! A prodigy! Hardly did I touch the horses' reins when they suddenly reared upon their haunches. It was almost as if my meregesture had sufficed to check their impetuous course. Happy at having escaped what seemed certain death, but aware that I was not a magician, endowed with the power to arrest a runaway team with a mere motion of my hand, I asked myself while leaping back what the cause might be of the extraordinary spectacle. I noticed that the horses still made violent efforts to proceed on their career; they reared, tugged forward and stretched out their necks, but were unable to advance, as if the cart's wheels were locked, or some superior power restrained them.
My curiosity stirred to a high pitch, I drew near, and gliding between the horses and the wall, succeeded in climbing over the dashboard of the cart whose driver I found crouching under the seat, looking more dead than alive. As the mystery seemed to deepen, my curiosity was pricked still more. I ran to the rear of the vehicle and noticed with no slight amazement that a large sized man, robust as a Hercules, was clinging to two ornamental pieces that projected from the rear of the cart. It was thanks to his weight, and to the superhuman resistance that his great strength enabled him to offer, that the team was held back.
"Captain Marion!" I cried. "I should have known as much! There is none other in the whole Gallic army able to hold back a cart going at full speed."
"Tell that fool of a driver to pull in the reins. My wrists begin to tire."
I was transmitting the orders to the driver who was beginning to recover his senses, when I saw several soldiers, on guard at Victoria's dwelling, pour out of the house attracted by the noise. They opened the yard gate and thus offered a safe exit to the cart.
"There is no longer any danger," I said to the driver; "lead your horses on. But whom does this conveyance belong to?"
"To Tetrik, the Governor of Gascony, who arrived yesterday at Mayence. He stops at Victoria's house," answered the driver, while calming down his horses.
While the cart proceeded into the yard of Victoria's residence, I walked back towards the captain to thank him for his timely aid.
Marion had left his blacksmith's anvil for the army many years previous. He was well known and generally beloved among the soldiers, as much for his heroic courage and extraordinary strength, as for his exceptional good judgment, his sound reasoning powers, the austerity of his morals, and his extreme good fellowship. He now stood on the road, and with his casque in his hand wiped the sweat off his brow. He wore a cuirass of steel scales over his Gallic blouse, and a long sword at his side. His dusty boots told of a recent and long ride on horseback. His large sunburnt face, partly covered by a thick beard that began to be streaked with grey, was open and pleasing.
"Captain Marion," I said to him, "I must thank you for having saved me from being ground under the wheels of that cart."
"I did not know it was you who ran the risk of being trampled under the hoofs of those horses like a dog! A stupid sort of a death for a brave soldier like you, Schanvoch! But when I heard that devil of a driver crying: 'Save yourself!' I surmised he was about to kill somebody and I tried to hold the cart back. Fortunately my mother endowed mewith a good pair of wrists. But where is my dear friend Eustace?" added the captain looking around.
"Whom do you refer to?"
"To a brave fellow, the old companion of my blacksmith days. Like me, he left the hammer for the lance. The fortune of war served me better than it did him. Despite his bravery, my friend Eustace has remained a simple horseman, while I have been promoted to captain. But there he is, yonder, with his arms crossed, and motionless as a signpost. Ho! Eustace! Eustace!"
At the call, the companion of Captain Marion approached slowly, with his arms crossed over his breast. He was a man of middle size and vigorous frame. His pale blonde hair and beard, his bilious complexion, his harsh and sullen physiognomy offered a striking contrast to the pleasant exterior of the captain. I asked myself what singular affinity could draw two men of such different appearance, and doubtless also such dissimilar characters, into close and constant friendship.
"How is that, friend Eustace," the captain jokingly remarked to him, "you remain yonder looking at me with crossed arms, while I am engaged in holding back a runaway team?"
"You are strong," Eustace answered; "what aid can the flesh-worm bring to the bull?"
"That man is certainly consumed with jealousy and hatred," I thought to myself at hearing the answer and observing the sullen looks of the captain's friend.
"There is no flesh-worm nor bull in the case, my friend Eustace," answered the captain with his habitual joviality and looking rather flattered by the comparison; "but whenthe flesh-worm and the bull are comrades, then, however strong the latter may be, or small the former, the one does not forsake the other—union makes strength, says the proverb."
"Captain," answered the soldier with a bitter smile, "did I ever forsake you in the hour of danger? Have I not always fought at your side, since we left the forge together?"
"I bear witness to the truth of that," cried Marion cordially, taking Eustace by the hand. "As true as the sword you carry is the last weapon I forged in order to give you a token of friendship, as it is engraved on the blade, you have ever in battle 'marched in my shadow,' as the saying goes in my country."
"What is there strange about that?" replied the soldier. "Beside you, so brave and robust, I was what the shadow is to the body."
"By the devil! Look at the shadow! My friend Eustace!" the captain exclaimed and laughed, and addressing me he added pointing at his companion Eustace:
"Let me have two or three thousand shadows like that, and the first battle that we fight on the other side of the Rhine, I shall bring back a herd of Frankish prisoners."
"You are a captain of renown! I, like so many other poor waifs, are good only to obey, to fight and to be killed. We are only meat for battles," replied the old blacksmith with an envious look and his lips slightly losing their color.
"Captain," I said to Marion, "I presume you wish to see Victorin and his mother?"
"Yes, I have a report to render to Victorin of a journey that my friend and I have just made."
"I followed you as a soldier," Eustace said; "the name ofan obscure horseman must not be remembered before Victoria the Great."
The captain shrugged his shoulders with impatience and jokingly shook his enormous fist at his friend.
"Captain," I insisted, addressing Marion, "let us hasten to Victoria. I should have been with her since dawn. I am late."
"Friend Eustace," Marion said, starting to walk with me toward Victoria's residence, "will you stay here, or wait for me at our lodging?"
"I shall wait here at the door—that is a subaltern's place."
"Would you believe it, Schanvoch," Marion replied laughing, "would you believe that it is nearly twenty years that lad and I live together and quarrel like two brothers? He will not forget that I am a captain, and will not treat me as a simple anvil-beater, as he formerly used to."
"I am not the only one, Marion, to realize the difference there is between us," Eustace answered. "You are one of the most renowned captains in the army—I am only one of the least of its soldiers."
Saying this Eustace sat down on a stone near the door, and bit his nails.
"He is incorrigible," the captain remarked to me; and we two entered the house of Victoria.
"Captain Marion must be strangely blinded by friendship," I thought to myself, "to fail to perceive that his companion is consumed with malevolent jealousy."
The residence of the Mother of the Camps was extremely simple. Captain Marion having asked one of the soldiers on guard whether Victorin could receive him, the soldier answered that he could give him no information on that head,seeing that the young general had not spent the night in the house.
Despite the camp life, Marion preserved great austerity of morals. He seemed shocked to learn that Victorin had not yet returned home, and he cast a dissatisfied look at me. I wished to excuse Victoria's son, and said to him:
"Let us not be hasty in believing evil. Tetrik, the Governor of Gascony, arrived yesterday at the camp. It may be that Victorin spent the night in conference with him."
"So much the better. I would like to see that young man, who to-day is chief of the Gauls, free himself from the claws of that pest of profligacy that drives so many of us to evil deeds. As to myself, the moment I see a woman's bonnet or a short skirt, I turn my head away as if I saw the devil in person."
"Victorin improves, and he will improve still more with ripening years," I replied to the captain. "But what can we do—he is young—he loves pleasure—and pretty girls."
"I also love pleasure, and furiously, too!" exclaimed the good captain. "There is nothing that I delight more in, when my duties are done, than to enter my lodging and empty a pot of cool beer with my friend Eustace, while we chat over our old trade, or entertain ourselves furbishing our weapons and good armor. Those are real pleasures! And notwithstanding all the excitement that one finds in them, they are absolutely honorable. Let us hope, Schanvoch, that Victorin may some day prefer them to his immodest and diabolical orgies with the pretty girls, that scandalize us."
"I am of your opinion, captain; hope is better than despair. But in the absence of Victorin you may confer with his mother. I shall notify her of your arrival."
Saying this I left Marion alone, and passing into a neighboring apartment, encountered a serving-girl who led me to Victoria, the Mother of the Camps, my foster-sister.
I wish, my son, for your benefit and the benefit of our descendants, to trace here the portrait of that illustrious Gallic woman, one of the purest glories of our country.
I found Victoria seated beside the cradle of her grandson Victorinin, a handsome boy of two who lay profoundly asleep. Victoria had some needlework in her hands, and was busy sewing, agreeable to her custom as a good housekeeper. She was then, like myself, thirty-eight years of age, but she would have been hardly taken for thirty. In her youth she was appropriately compared to Diana, the huntress. In her mature years she was no less appropriately compared to the antique Minerva. Tall, well built, and virile, without thereby forfeiting the chaste graces of womanhood, she was magnificently shaped. Her beautiful face, instinct with a grave yet gentle expression, bore the impress of majesty under the crown of black hair which she wore in two braids coiled over her august forehead. Sent when still a little girl to a college of our venerated female druids, and having taken at the age of fifteen the mysterious vows that bound her indissolubly to the sacred religion of our fathers, she ever since, and although married, preserved the black garb of the female druids, which was also the habitual garb of the matrons of old Gaul. Her long wide sleeves, open up to the elbows, exposeda pair of arms as white and as strong as those of the valiant Gallic women, who, as you will see in our family narratives, my son, heroically fought the Romans at the battle of Vannes under the eyes of our grandmother Margarid, and preferred death to the disgraces of slavery.
In the middle of the chamber, and not far from the seat occupied by the Mother of the Camps near her grandson's cradle, several rolls of parchment, together with all that was necessary for writing, lay upon a table. From the wall hung the two casques and swords of Victoria's father and husband, both killed in the same battle. One of the two casques was surmounted by the Gallic cock of gilt bronze, with his wings partly spread, and holding under his feet a lark that he menaced with his beak. The emblem was adopted by Victoria's father as a military ornament after a heroic combat in which, at the head of only a handful of men, he exterminated a Roman legion that bore a lark on its ensign. Under the weapons stood a little brass vase in which seven twigs of mistletoe were arranged. Gaul, you must remember, my son, reconquered her religious liberty in recovering her independence. Close to the brass vase and the twigs of mistletoe, a druid symbol, was a wooden cross, in commemoration of the death of Jesus of Nazareth, for whom the Mother of the Camps, without being a Christian, professed profound admiration. She looked upon him as one of the sages who shed luster upon humanity.
Such, my son, was Victoria the Great, the illustrious Gallic woman whose name our descendants will ever pronounce with pride.
When the Mother of the Camps saw me come in, she rosequickly and approached me with gladness, saying in her sonorous and sweet voice:
"Welcome, brother! The mission was a dangerous one. Not seeing you back before sunset, I did not wish to send any message to your house, lest I alarm your wife by showing uneasiness at your prolonged absence. But here you are; I feel happy to see you back again."
Saying this Victoria pressed my hand tenderly in hers.
The words that we spoke must have disturbed the slumber of Victoria's grandson; he moved in his cradle and made a slight sound. Victoria stepped quickly to him, and kissed the child on the forehead. She then sat down, and placing the tip of her foot on a treadle below the cradle, rocked it gently, while she continued her conversation with me.
"And the message?" she asked, "how did the barbarians receive it? Are they ready for peace? Do they want war? Did they accept our proposition?"
I was just about to begin giving my foster-sister a complete account of my mission, when she interrupted me with a gesture, and, reflecting a second, proceeded to say:
"Do you know that my dear relative Tetrik has been here since yesterday?"
"I know it, sister."
"He is due here any moment. I prefer that you make the report to me before him only."
"I shall do so. Can you receive Captain Marion? He came for a conference with Victorin."
"Schanvoch, my son again spent the night out of the house!" remarked Victoria plying her needle more quickly, an action that, with her, always denoted deep annoyance.
"Having heard of your relative's arrival, I surmised that,possibly, grave questions kept Victorin closeted with Tetrik during the night. That is the theory I threw out to Captain Marion, and told him that perhaps you would be ready to hear the report he has for your son."
Victoria remained silent for a moment; she then dropped her needlework on her lap, raised her head and resumed in a tone of suppressed grief:
"Victorin has vices—his vices are smothering his good parts. Moths destroy the best of grain."
"Have confidence and hope—age will mature him."
"During the last two years his vices grow upon him, his good parts decline."
"His bravery, his generosity, his frankness have not degenerated."
"His bravery no longer is the calm and provident bravery that becomes a general—it is becoming blind—headless. His generosity no longer distinguishes between the worthy and the unworthy. His reasoning powers decline—wine and debauchery are killing him. By Hesus! A drunkard and a debauché! He, my son! One of the chiefs of Gaul, free to-day and, perhaps, to-morrow, matchless among nations. Schanvoch, I am an unfortunate mother!"
"Victorin loves me—I shall reprove him severely."
"Do you imagine that your remonstrances will accomplish what the prayers of his own mother have failed to do? Of the mother who never left his side all his life, following him with the army, often even into battle? Schanvoch, Hesus punishes me—I have been too proud of my son!"
"And what mother would not have been proud of him the day when a whole valiant army, of its own free choice, acclaimedas its chief the general of twenty years of age, behind whom they saw—you, his mother!"
"What does it matter, if he dishonors me! And yet, my only ambition was to make of my son a citizen, a man worthy of our fathers! Did I not, when nourishing him with my milk, also nourish him with an ardent and holy love for our Gaul that was coming to life again—and to freedom! What was it that I asked; what was it that I always desired? To live an obscure life and ignored, but devote my night-watches and my days, my intelligence, my knowledge of the past, which enables me to understand the present, and at times to peer into the future—in short, to devote all the energies of my soul and of my mind to rendering my son brave, wise, enlightened, worthy at all points of guiding the free men who chose him their chief. And then, Hesus is my witness, proud as a Gallic woman, happy as a mother of having given birth to such a man, I would have enjoyed his glory and my country's prosperity in the seclusion of my humble home. But to have a drunkard and debauché for a son! Oh, wrath of heaven! Does not the giddy-headed boy understand that every excess that he indulges in is a slap that he gives his mother in the face? If he does not understand it, our soldiers do. Yesterday, as I crossed the camp, three old horsemen rode towards me. Do you know what they said to me? 'Mother, we pity you!'—and they rode off dejectedly. Schanvoch, I tell you, I am an unhappy mother!"
"Listen to me. For some time since, our soldiers have been growing dissatisfied with Victorin. I admit it, I understand it. The warrior whom free men have chosen for their chief must be above excesses, and must even be able tocontrol the impulses of his age. That is true, sister; and have I not often chided your son in your presence?"
"You have."
"Well, at this moment I take up his defense. These soldiers, whom we see to-day so full of scruples on the score of slips that are frequent with young chiefs, act, not so much in obedience to their own scruples, as in obedience to perfidious incitements that emanate from some secret enemy."
"What do you mean?"
"There are people who envy your son; they envy his influence over the troops. In order to undo him, his defects are being exploited so as to furnish a foundation for infamous calumnies."
"Who is jealous of Victorin? Who would have an interest in spreading such calumnies?"
"It is especially during the last month, not so, that this hostility to your son has manifested itself and has been on the increase?"
"Yes, yes; but whom do you suspect of inciting it?"
"Sister, what I am about to tell you is serious. It is a month ago that one of your relatives, the Governor of Gascony, came to Mayence—"
"Tetrik!"
"Yes; he departed after a stay of a few days! Almost immediately after Tetrik's departure the silent hostility towards your son began, and has since steadily grown!"
Victoria looked at me in silence, as if she did not quite grasp the bearing of my words. But a sudden thought seeming to flash through her mind, she cried in a tone of reproach:
"What! You suspect Tetrik! My own relative and bestfriend, the wisest of men, one of the most enlightened citizens of our age, a man who seeks his delight in letters and displays no mean poetic talents! One of the most useful men in the defense of Gaul, although he is not a man of war! Tetrik, who in his government of Gascony repairs by dint of wisdom the evils that civil war inflicted upon the province! Oh, brother, I expected better things from your loyal heart and your good sense!"
"I suspect that man!"
"Oh, you iron-headed, inflexible nature! Why should you suspect Tetrik? By what right? What has he done? By Hesus! If you were not my brother—if I did not know your heart—I would think you are jealous of my esteem for my relative!"
Victoria had barely uttered these last words, when she seemed to regret having allowed them to escape her. She said:
"Forget these words!"
"They would greatly grieve me, sister, if the unjust doubt that they express could blind you to the truth."
At this moment the servant entered and asked whether Tetrik could be admitted.
"Let him in," answered Victoria, "let him in immediately."
Tetrik stepped into the room.
The personage who now entered the apartment was an undersized man of middle age. His face was refined and gentle; an affable smile played permanently around his lips. In short, his exterior bespoke so fully the man of honor that, seeing him enter, Victoria could not refrain from casting at me a look that still seemed to reproach me for my suspicions.
Tetrik walked straight to Victoria, kissed her on the forehead with paternal familiarity and said:
"Greeting to you, Victoria!"
And approaching the cradle in which the grandson of the Mother of the Camps still slept, the Governor of Gascony contemplated the child with tenderness, and added, in a low voice, as if afraid to awaken him:
"Sleep, poor little one! You are smiling in your infantine dreams, and you know not that, perhaps, the future of our beloved Gaul may rest upon your head. Sleep, little fellow, predestined, no doubt, to carry out the task that your glorious father has undertaken! A noble task that will engage his efforts for many long years under the inspiration of your august grandmother! Sleep, poor little one," Tetrik added, with eyes dimmed with tears of tenderness, "the gods that are propitious to Gaul will watch over you—you will grow up for the welfare of your country!"
While her relative wiped his moist eyes, Victoria againinterrogated me with her looks, as if asking me whether such was the language and the physiognomy of a traitor, of a cowardly hypocrite, of a man who was a perfidious enemy of the child's father.
Turning then to me, Tetrik said affectionately:
"Greeting to the best, the most faithful friend of the woman whom I most love and venerate in the world; greeting to Victoria's foster-brother."
"Your speech is true. I am the obscurest but also the most devoted friend of Victoria," I answered looking fixedly at Tetrik, "and it is the duty of a friend to unmask scamps and traitors."
"I am of your opinion, friend Schanvoch," Tetrik answered with simplicity. "A friend's first duty is to unmask scamps and traitors. I fear the roaring lion with its jaws wide open less than the serpent that creeps in the dark."
"Now, then, I, Schanvoch, have this to say to you, Tetrik. You are one of the dangerous reptile that you have just mentioned. I consider you a traitor! And I purpose to unmask your treason!"
"Schanvoch!" cried Victoria interrupting me in a reproachful tone.
"I perceive that the old Gallic love for raillery, one of our franchises, has returned with our gods and our freedom," replied the governor smiling.
And turning to Victoria he added:
"Our friend Schanvoch possesses the art of dry humor—the most amusing of all—"
"My brother speaks seriously and out of an honorable impulse," the Mother of the Camps broke in saying. "And Igrieve thereat, since I know that he is mistaken; but he is sincere in his error—"
Tetrik let his eyes wander alternately from Victoria to me with no little amazement; for a moment he was silent; thereupon he said in a serious and penetrating voice:
"All faithful friends are quick to suspect. Good Schanvoch, your distrust is inexplicable to me; but it must have its reason. The attack was frank, frank shall be the answer. Let us settle the question. What is your charge against me?"
"About a month ago you came to Mayence. A man of your retinue, your secretary, Morix by name and well supplied with money, gave the soldiers to drink and at the same time endeavored to irritate them against Victorin, saying to them that it was disgraceful that their general, one of the two chiefs of regenerated Gaul, should be a drunkard and a profligate. Did your secretary hold such language, yes or no? I wait for your answer."
"Proceed, friend Schanvoch, proceed—"
"Your secretary told a story that, being subsequently spread through the camp, has greatly irritated the soldiers against Victorin. This was the story: A few months ago, Victorin and several officers went to a tavern on one of the isles in the Rhine; after having drunk copiously, Victorin, excited by the wine, violated the innkeeper's wife, and she thereupon killed herself in despair—"
"Calumny!" cried Victoria. "I know and condemn my son's faults—but he is incapable of such an infamous act!"
The governor listened to me without betraying the slightest emotion. Presently he said with a smile and his habitual placidity of countenance:
"So, then, good Schanvoch, it is your opinion that, obedientto orders received from me, my secretary spread unworthy calumnies in the camp?"
"Yes. It is all done with your knowledge and consent."
"And what could be my motive?"
"You are ambitious—"
"And in what manner could such calumnies subserve my ambition?"
"If the dissatisfaction of the soldiers with Victorin, whom they elected, continues, you would then use your influence with Victoria to the end of inducing her to propose you to the soldiers as Victorin's successor in the government of Gaul."
"A mother! Did you stop to consider that, good Schanvoch?" Tetrik answered looking at Victoria. "A mother sacrifice a son to a friend!"
"In the greatness of her love for her country, Victoria would certainly sacrifice her son to your elevation if the measure became necessary to the welfare of Gaul. Am I mistaken, sister?"
"No," Victoria answered me evidently grieved at my accusations against her relative; "in that you say the truth, but as to the inferences that you draw therefrom, I reject them."
"And that heroic sacrifice, good Schanvoch," resumed the governor, "Victoria is expected to make knowing that it was through my underground calumnies that her son's reputation was blasted with the soldiers?"
"My sister would not have been aware of your intrigues had I not unmasked them. Besides, more than once did I hear her say, and justly say, that in case peace was established, it would be better for the country if its chief, instead of being ever prone to battle, gave serious thought to the healingof the wounds inflicted by the past wars. She often mentioned you as one of the men who wisely prefer peace to war."
"It is true, I hold that the sword, good to destroy, is impotent to reconstruct," remarked Victoria; "and the freedom of Gaul once firmly established, I would prefer to see my son give more thought to peace than to war. It was, therefore, Schanvoch, that I commissioned you with one last attempt with the Franks, looking to the restoration of peace."
"Allow that I interrupt you, Victoria," put in Tetrik, "and that I ask our friend Schanvoch whether he has any other charges against me."
"I charge you with being either the secret agent of the Roman Emperor Galien, or the agent of the chief of the new creed, Roman Catholicism."
"I!" cried the governor. "I the agent of the Christians!"
"I said the agent of the chief of the new creed. I refer to the Bishop of Rome, who entitles himself 'Sovereign Pontiff.'"
"I the agent of Etienne, the Bishop of Rome, and fourteenth Pope of the new church?—of that Pope, of whom Firmilien, the Bishop of Caesarea, wrote to Cyprian, the presiding officer of the Spanish council, composed of twenty-eight bishops: 'Would one believe that that man (Pope Etienne) had a soul in his body? Evidently his body is but ill conducted, and his soul is in a disordered condition. Etienne does not stick at calling his brother Cyprian a false Christ, a false apostle, a fraudulent artisan; in order to forestall having these things said of himself, he has the audacity to make the accusation against others.' And can I be the agent of that ambitious pontiff! Of that simoniacal bishop, who is given over to all manner of vices!"
"Yes—unless that, deceiving at once both the Roman Emperor and the Pope of Rome, you are serving both, ready to sacrifice the one or the other, according as your ambition may require."
"That I serve the Romans is a thing that I am ready to admit," Tetrik answered with his unalterable placidity. "However unjust your suspicion towards me, it may be understood, as an instance of extreme patriotism. We are well aware that, although we have succeeded, by force of arms, to reconquer during nearly three centuries, inch by inch the full freedom once enjoyed by old Gaul, the Roman Emperors have seen with sorrow our country slip from their dominion. Accordingly, I can understand, Schanvoch, how you might accuse me of desiring to arrive at power in Gaul, with the end in view of sooner or later restoring the country to the Romans, although in doing so I would be betraying it most infamously. But is it imaginable that I act in the interest of the Pope of the Christians, of those unhappy people who are everywhere persecuted and martyrized? It is not a sane thought! What could I do for them? What could they do for me?"
Schanvoch was about to answer. Victoria interrupted him with a gesture and said to Tetrik while she pointed to the cross of black wood, the emblem of the death of Jesus, that was placed near the brass vase with the seven twigs of mistletoe, a druid symbol much in use among the Gauls:
"Look at that cross, Tetrik, it tells you that, without infidelity to our own gods, I nevertheless venerate him who said that no man has the right to oppress his fellows; that the guilty merit pity and consolation, not contempt and severity; and that the irons of the slave should be stricken off. Blessedbe these maxims, Tetrik; the wisest of our druids have accepted them as holy; accordingly, you may judge how dearly I love the gentle and pure morality of that young man of Nazareth. But listen, Tetrik," Victoria added pensively, "there is something unexplainable, strange and mysterious that makes me shudder. Yes, many a time and oft, during my long watches beside the cradle of my grandson, and when I pondered the present and the past, tormenting thoughts crowded upon my mind concerning the future of our well-beloved Gaul."
"And whence does your terror proceed?" Tetrik asked. "What is its cause?"
"That for three successive centuries Rome was the implacable foe of Gaul," Victoria answered; "that for so many centuries Rome was the merciless scourge of the world!"
"Rome?" replied the governor. "Pagan Rome?"
"Yes. The tyranny that weighed down upon the world had its seat in Rome," rejoined Victoria. "Now, then, I ask myself, by what strange fatality have the bishops, the Popes of the new creed, who aspire to reign over the universe by ruling the sovereigns of the world, been led to establish the seat of their empire in Rome? Jesus of Nazareth branded the high priests as liars and hypocrites. He preached above all, humility, forgiveness, equality, fraternity among men, and lo! in his apotheosized name, we now see a new hierarchy of high priests arising, pretending to be the rulers of the world, and already, as Pope Etienne, meriting the charges of ambition, deception and intolerance, even from their fellow Christian bishops!"
"Is it you, Victoria, who hold such language?" Tetrik interrupted her saying: "You so wise, so enlightened—canyou fear the future of Gaul to be endangered by those unhappy people who bear witness to their faith by their martyrdom?"
"Oh!" cried the Mother of the Camps with exaltation. "I love, I admire those poor Christians who die in torture while proclaiming the equality of man before God, the liberation of the slaves, the community of goods, love and forgiveness for the guilty! I love, I admire those poor Christians who die on the scaffold and proclaim in the name of Jesus: 'Those are monsters of iniquity who hold their brothers in bondage, who leave them to suffer in cold and hunger, instead of sharing with them their bread and their cloak.' Oh! pity and veneration for those heroic martyrs! But I stand in dread of those people who call themselves the chiefs, the Popes of the Christians. Yes, I stand in dread of those high priests who have fixed upon Rome as the seat of their mysterious empire!—in that city, the center of the most frightful tyranny that has ever crushed down the human race! I fear for the future of Gaul from that quarter."
"Victoria," again Tetrik interrupted, saying: "You exaggerate the power of those Christian pontiffs. Have not large numbers of them, persecuted by the Roman Emperors, undergone martyrdom, like any other neophytes?"
"Every battle has its dead, and the Popes struggle with the Emperors in order to wrench from these the dominion over the world! Among those bishops there have been many who have spoken and died like Jesus. But if there are some worthy pontiffs among them, and they are few, the domination of the priests is not, for that, any the less dread a visitation upon the people. Has not the government of our own priests been despotic and merciless? Did not the druidsleave the people for over ten centuries steeped in crassest ignorance, governing them with the instruments of barbarism—superstition and terror? Did not those days of oppression and debasement last until the glorious and prosperous epoch when, merged in the body of the nation as citizens, fathers and soldiers, our druids took part in the common life of the people, in the joys of the family, and in the national wars against the foreigner? What I apprehend for the future of the nations is that some day there may be established in Rome a murky alliance between the Pope and the most powerful Emperors and Kings of the world! Unhappy will that day be for the peoples! From such an alliance a frightful political and religious tyranny will be born, and it will be watered with the blood of fresh martyrs! Woe, then, to the peoples! They will once more be made to bend under a pitiless theocratic yoke!"
As she uttered these words, Victoria seemed inspired by the prophetic genius of the female druids of olden times. Tetrik listened to her in silence, but instead of answering, he resumed with a smile:
"See how far we have wandered from the charges that our friend Schanvoch has preferred against me—and yet, Victoria, your words, regarding the apprehension that the Christian high priests, as you style them, fill you with for the future, in a manner bring us back to the charges. So, then, Schanvoch, the purpose of the perfidies that you charge me with is to arrive at power in Gaul, to the end of betraying the country to pagan or to Catholic Rome?"
"Yes, that is my opinion."
"Schanvoch, I shall not need many words for my defense. One of my secretaries did seek to arouse the hostility of oursoldiers against Victorin. Your revelation comes rather late—"
"I learned the facts only yesterday."
"That is of no consequence," he replied, "that secretary was dismissed by me just because I learned that, irritated at Victorin for having railed at him several times, he sought to revenge himself by spreading against the general calumnies that were even more ridiculous and odious. But let us drop these petty matters. I am ambitious, you say, friend Schanvoch! I aim at the government of Gaul, even if, in order to accomplish my purpose, I should have to resort to unworthy intrigues! Now, ask Victoria what errand brings me back to Mayence."
"Tetrik believes that the peace and prosperity of Gaul require that the soldiers be induced to proclaim my son's son the heir of his father's office. Tetrik believes he can count upon the consent of Emperor Galien."
"Tetrik must, then, anticipate the speedy death of Victorin," I answered looking fixedly at the governor.
He, however, whose eyes were rarely met, seeing he kept them habitually lowered, answered:
"The Franks are on the other side of the Rhine—and Victorin is of temerarious bravery. My ardent wish is that he may live many more years; but death has no respect even for the most valuable life. It is my opinion that Gaul would find a pledge of security for the future if it knew that after Victorin the power would remain with the son of him whom the army acclaimed its chief, especially seeing that the child would have for his instructress Victoria, the Mother of the Camps."
"But in case Victoria were to die, who tells me, Tetrik,that you would not have yourself appointed the child's tutor, exercise the power in his name, and in that manner arrive at the government of Gaul?"
"Are you speaking seriously, Schanvoch?" Tetrik replied. "Ask Victoria whether she needs my help in order to render her grandson worthy of her and of the country? Do you imagine she is one of those weak women who feel forced to share a glorious task with others? Is not the idolatry that the soldiers entertain for her a sufficient guarantee that, in the event of Victorin's premature death, she could preserve alone the wardship of her grandson and govern in his name?"
Victoria shook her head thoughtfully and sadly, and said:
"I do not like your project of transmitting the office by inheritance, Tetrik. What! Shall a child, still in his cradle, be designated to the soldiers for their choice! Who knows what may become of this child?"
"Has he not you for his teacher?" asked Tetrik.
"Have I not been the teacher and instructress of Victorin also?" the Mother of the Camps answered sadly. "And yet, despite all my vigilant cares, my son has defects that serve as the basis for frightful calumnies. But of these, I sincerely assure you, Tetrik, I hold you guiltless; and I now hope that my brother Schanvoch will join me in doing justice to your loyalty."
"I said so before, I repeat it now—I suspect this man!" I answered Victoria.
She replied with impatience: "And I said so before and repeat it now—you are a head of iron, a genuine Breton head, rebellious to all reason, the moment a notion takes root in your brain."
Instinctively convinced of Tetrik's perfidy, but having no more proofs against him, I said nothing more.
But Tetrik resumed with a smile, and without betraying the slightest perturbation:
"Neither you nor I, Victoria, could convince our good Schanvoch of his error. Let us leave that to an irresistible seductress—Truth. It will with time furnish the evidence of my loyalty. We shall return later, Victoria, to your repugnance in the matter of causing the army to acclaim your grandson the heir of his father's office. I still expect to overcome your scruples. But as I came in I saw one of your officers who seemed to await his turn for an audience. Do you not think it well to let him come in? It is Captain Marion, the old blacksmith, whom you introduced to me at my first trip to the camp as one of the bravest men in the army."
"His valor matches his disposition and good judgment," replied the Mother of the Camps. "The man has a noble heart and is a faithful friend. Despite his promotion, he has continued to love as a brother one of the old companions of his trade, who remained a simple soldier."
"Even at the risk of being again taken for an iron head, I am of the opinion that in the matter of this affection the good heart of Captain Marion misleads his judgment. I can only hope, Victoria, that your blindness may not be as complete as Captain Marion's."
"Do you mean that the faithful companion of Captain Marion is his enemy?" queried Victoria. "You are singularly mistrustful to-day, brother!"
When I alluded to Captain Marion and his friend I again sought to catch the eyes of the Governor of Gascony, but invain. Nevertheless it was with no slight surprise that I noticed him slightly start with joy when I asserted that Captain Marion had a secret foe in his camp companion. Ever master over himself, Tetrik doubtlessly feared that slight as was his manifestation of joy it might not have escaped me. He said:
"Envy is so revolting a feeling that I can never hear it mentioned without it makes a painful impression upon me. I feel positively grieved at what Schanvoch, who in this respect also, I hope, may be mistaken, tells us of the comrade of Captain Marion. But, should my presence prevent you from receiving the captain, Victoria, I shall withdraw."
"On the contrary, I wish you to be present at the interview that I am to have with Marion and my brother Schanvoch. They were given important commissions by my son, and yet," she added with a sigh, "the morning is passing, and my son is not yet home!"
At that very moment the door of the room was thrown open, and Victorin entered accompanied by Captain Marion.