The struggle that took place in front of the _ergastula_ and which was crowned with triumph for the Vagres consumed less time than it takes to describe it; but there was still much to be done in order to leave the fortified enclosure of the burg. It was necessary to reach the bridge, the only practicable issue, by reason of Ronan, Loysik and Odille, all of whom were unable to walk. It was necessary in order to reach the bridge to follow the inside wall of the embankment under the trees that lined one side of the parade ground; and the parade ground itself, wholly exposed and in plain view of the burning buildings had then to be crossed. Wise and prudent in counsel, old Karadeucq made the troop halt where it was screened by the trees from the eyes of the enemy, and said to them:

"To attempt to leave the burg in a body would be to invite being slain to the last man. The moment we are seen, some of the Franks in their fury will stop trying to extinguish the fire and will fall upon us.

There is only one chance of escape. The moment we reach the open ground, which you must traverse, let us separate and mix up boldly among the frightened Franks, who are seeking to save all they can from the flames.

Let us throw ourselves in among the frightened crowd and seem to be engaged in some work of salvage, going, coming, running hither and thither. We shall thus be able to clear the dangerous pa.s.sage and shall separately reach the bridge--our general _rendezvous_."

"But, father, carried as we are by these good slaves, how could Loysik and I avoid being detected?"

"That matters not; the slaves will be thought to be transporting some wounded men taken from the ruins; conceal your faces somehow and moan as loud as you can. As to the Master of the Hounds, who has prudently stripped himself of his bear skin, he can boldly run through the crowd carrying the little slave in his arms as if he had saved some young girl from the flames in the women's apartment. The bishopess can wrap herself up in the coat of the Master of the Hounds; she will have no difficulty in safely crossing the crowd in the midst of the general tumult."

The wise advice of the father of Loysik and Ronan was carried out successfully from point to point.

By the faith of a Vagre, beautiful was the spectacle of the vast Frankish burg enveloped in and consumed by the flames! At every turn were heard roofs tumbling in with a crash and throwing upward toward the starry vault of heaven large jets of flame and sparks of fire. The northern wind, blowing fresh and strong, drove towards the south large sheets of flame that surged, like the waves of an angry sea, over the crumbling buildings below. At the moment when, carried on the shoulders of the two slaves, Ronan pa.s.sed before the seigniorial mansion, which was entirely built of frame and shingled with oaken laths, he saw the flaming roof, which had for some little time been supported by large charred beams, fall in with the rattle of thunder and dash itself against the foundation of volcanic rocks. Nothing remained standing of the count's once proud residence but a few huge beams, whose blackened and smoking sides were brought out into strong relief by the curtain of fire before which they seemed to tremble. The casques and the cuira.s.ses of the leudes of Chram were seen glistening in the light of the conflagration; they were running hither and thither in a joint effort with the men of Neroweg to save the horses and mules from the burning stables.

What an infernal tumult, and how sweet to the ear of a Gaul! By the bones of our fathers the music and the sight were magnificent! The neighing of horses, the bellowing of cattle, the imprecations of the Franks, the cries of the wounded leudes whom the flaming ruins burned, or rolled down upon and crushed! And what a beautiful illumination lighted the tableau--a ruddy flamboyant light!

The two sons of old Karadeucq whom the slaves were carrying on their backs, as well as little Odille, in the arms of the Master of the Hounds, finally crossed the bridge over the fosse, closely preceded and followed by all the Vagres and the revolted slaves who joined them. They had all successfully threaded their way through the crowds of scurrying Franks around the burning buildings. After the troop of Karadeucq was safely on the other side a vigorous shove threw the keeper off the bridge down into the fosse, in the bottom of which he disappeared.

"Are we all outside of the enclosure of the burg?" asked old Karadeucq.

"Yes, all--all!"

"Now let us cut down the bridge; I have broken down the chains that hold it on the other side; if the Franks take it into their heads to pursue us we shall have a long lead over them. Once we reach the forest, then, good bye Franks! Long live the Vagrery and old Gaul! Oh, my sons, you are now free from danger! Ronan, Loysik, one more embrace, my sons!"

"By the sacred joy of this father and his two sons, beautiful bishopess, you are my wife. I shall not leave you unto death!"

"Loysik, you said to me this very night in the prison, 'Fulvia, if you were free to-day and met the Master of the Hounds, also free, what would you answer if he asked you to be his wife?' Being now free," added the bishopess turning towards the Vagre, "I shall be your devoted wife and a true mother if G.o.d should grant us children."

"And you, little Odille, you have neither father nor mother left, will you have Ronan for husband, if you survive your wounds?"

"Ronan, even if I were dead, the hope of being your wife would raise me from my grave!"

CHAPTER X.

COUNT AND VAGRE.

With Loysik and Ronan on the shoulders of their companions and little Odille in the arms of the Master of the Hounds, the Vagres and the revolted slaves hastened to reach the forest. The rear of the fleeing troop was brought up by four Vagres, panting for breath and bent down by a heavy bundle that they carried between them. It was a large coa.r.s.e cloth wound around a gagged and firmly bound man, whose head was additionally wrapped in a jacket.

"Who is that man, my brave Master of the Hounds? Do you know?" asked Ronan.

"It is Count Neroweg, whom your father dexterously kidnapped from the very midst of the leudes with the aid of two of his comrades."

"Neroweg in our power! In the power of Ronan, Loysik and Karadeucq, the descendants of Schanvoch! Heaven and earth!"

"h.e.l.lo, old Karadeucq, come this way--Ronan will not believe that we kidnapped the Frankish wild-boar."

"Yes, my sons, that fellow whose head is concealed in a jacket, and whom our men are carrying, is Neroweg--it is my share of the booty."

"It is your share, Karadeucq--but we, the count's former slaves, demand to have his skin and bones."

"What a pity that we have not the bishop also--the feast would be complete."

"The Lion of Poitiers killed the bishop."

"Father, are you sure that infamous bishop is dead?"

"Yes--I saw him fall under the sword of the Lion of Poitiers. The blow almost clove him in two."

"But how did you manage to capture Neroweg?"

"I kept my eyes upon you and Loysik from a distance, as you were carried towards the bridge by our Vagres who shouted: 'Room there, room for the wounded leudes whom we have saved from the ruins.' Mixing in, together with three other of our men, among the distracted crowd of leudes and loyal slaves, who were running about helter skelter, I suddenly saw the count running all alone at a distance, and carrying in his arms with great difficulty two heavy skin bags, probably filled with gold and silver; he was running towards a dry well. Neroweg was at that moment alone and a considerable distance away from the burning buildings. The thought struck me to seize the man. Together with two of our men I crept behind the bushes around the cistern into which the count threw one of the bags, fearing, no doubt, that their contents might be stolen from him in the general turmoil. The three of us fell upon him unawares, and threw him down; I planted both my knees upon his chest and both my hands over his mouth to keep him from crying out for help; one of our men took off his jacket, gagged Neroweg and wrapped the jacket over the Frank's head, while our other companion tied his feet, legs and arms firmly, took a large piece of rough cloth that lay near and wound it around the seigneur count. The bridge lay not far away; we could see it from where we stood--and that is the way in which I captured my booty. We are now far enough away from the burg; the count's voice could not be heard there. Remove the jacket from his head and the gag from his mouth.

Hurrah for the Vagrery!"

As soon as Neroweg was uncovered and ungagged Karadeucq said to him:

"Count, your hands will remain bound, but I shall now free your legs.

Will you walk to the forest with us?"

"You mean to kill me there! Let us walk, accursed mountebank, you will see how a Frank marches with a firm step to death--you Gallic dogs, race of slaves!"

The outskirt of the forest was reached at the peep of dawn--a flitting moment in the month of June. At the distance a ruddy glamour was seen struggling against the approaching light of day--it was the conflagration that still raged over the ruins of the burg.

Ronan and the hermit-laborer were laid upon the gra.s.s, with little Odille seated beside them. On her knees near the young girl, the bishopess tended her wounds. The Vagres and the revolted slaves stood in a circle around. Neroweg stood pinioned, but savage and resolute of countenance--those barbarians and thieves, however cowardly in their vengeance, are, it must be admitted even by us, their enemies, endowed with a certain savage bravery--he cast an intrepid look at the Vagres.

Old Karadeucq, who had preserved his vigor, looked youthed by fully twenty years. The joy of having saved his sons and of having Neroweg in his power seemed to impart new life to him. His eyes sparkled, his cheeks were aflame, he contemplated the count with greedy looks.

"We shall be revenged," said Ronan, "you will be revenged, little Odille."

"Ronan, I ask no vengeance for myself; in our prison I often said to the good hermit-laborer: 'If ever I should be free again, I shall not return evil for evil.'"

"Yes, sweet child--as sweet as pardon. But you need not fear, our father will not kill that man unarmed," answered Loysik.

"Will he not kill him, brother? Aye, by the devil! Our father will kill the Frank as sure as he put us both to the torture, and that he beat and violated this poor child! Blood and ma.s.sacre, no mercy!"

"No, Ronan, our father will not kill a defenseless man."

"You are long about killing me!" put in the captured count. "What are you waiting for! And you, accursed mountebank, the chief of these bandits, why do you look at me in that way in silence?"

"Because, Neroweg, in contemplating you as I do, I am thinking of the past. I am conjuring up family recollections in which one of your ancestors, the Terrible Eagle, is mixed."

"He was a great chief," answered the Frank proudly; "he was a great King, one of the bravest warriors of my lineage. His name is still glorified in Germany--my shame remains hidden at the bottom of my grave--if you dig a grave for me, cursed dogs!"

"It happened more than three hundred years ago; a great battle was delivered on the banks of the Rhine between the Gauls and the Franks.

One of my ancestors fought with yours--the Terrible Eagle. It was a desperate struggle; it was not merely a fight between soldier and soldier, it was a conflict between two races that were fated foes! My ancestor had a presentiment that the stock of Neroweg would be fatal to ours, and he sought to kill him in order to extinguish his family. Fate willed it otherwise. Alas, my ancestor's forebodings did not deceive him. This is the second time that our two families meet across the ages.

You had my two sons put to the torture, and to-day they were to be executed upon your orders. Now you are in my power; you are about to die, and your stock will be extinct."