The Poniard's Hilt; Or, Karadeucq and Ronan. A Tale of Bagauders and Vagres

by Eugène Sue

  CHAPTER VIII.

  IN THE BANQUET HALL.

  Neroweg feasted his royal guest Chram at his best. At first he hesitatedto take his gold and silver vessels, the fruit of his ravages, out ofhis coffers and exhibit them on his table. He feared to excite thecupidity of Chram and his favorites, apprehending that the latter wouldindulge their nature for pilfering, or that the former might make somecovetous demand upon him. In the end, however, yielding to a barbarian'svanity, the count could not resist the desire to display his wealthbefore the eyes of his guests. Accordingly, he produced from his amplecoffers the large amphoras, the goblets, the large bowls, the hugedishes--all of massive gold or silver, fashioned in the Greek, Roman orGallic style and as varied as the plunderings from which these richesproceeded. Among these valuable articles were also several goblets ofjasper, of porphyry and of onyx studded with precious stones; there werealso strewn over the table several hand basins made of rare wood, hoopedin gold and inlaid with carbuncles. But none of these precious articleswas to be used by the count's guests; the valuables were heaped uponthe table without order like piles of booty; they were intended merelyto delight the sight or tickle the envy of the guests who could purloinnone of the articles by reason of the distance at which they were heapedfrom them upon the vast table of the banquet hall. In front of PrinceChram and Bishop Cautin the count had ordered to be spread in the shapeof a table cloth a bit of purple cloth embroidered in gold and silverand similar to that which covered their seats. Prince Chram and thebishop alone were allowed to use a jasper goblet studded with preciousstones. They ate from a dish of solid gold in which the food destinedfor them was spread. The plates before the other guests were of wood,tin or clay. In order to do further honor to the King's son the counthad donned over his greasy skin jacket and his leather hose an antiquedalmatica of silver cloth with gold bees embroidered upon it, a presentmade to his father by King Clovis. Around his neck Neroweg wore twoheavy gold chains, on several links of which he had ingeniously fasteneda number of earrings intended for women and glistening with preciousstones. A peacock would not have been prouder of its plumage than wasthat Frankish seigneur under his dalmatica and jewels, with his shavenchin, his long reddish moustache and his yellow hair drawn back andfastened at the top of his head by a gold bracelet studded with rubies,from which the coarse and unkempt hair fell back over his neck like thetail of a horse.

  The aspect presented by the banquet hall matched that of the host. Itwas a mixture of luxury, barbarism, slovenliness and dirt. Around thetable of rough wood, covered by rich cloth only in front of Chram andthe bishop, and bearing in its center the heaped-up pile of costlyvessels, ragged slaves moved about under orders of the seneschal, thesteward, the cup-bearer or other head servants of the count, all clad inthe skin jackets that they wore in all seasons, and which were as soiledas otherwise uncouth. The number of torch-bearing slaves intended tolight the banquet table had been doubled, tripled and quadrupled; thenumber of barrels set up at the four corners of the hall was likewiseincreased; they were stood up one on top of the other, presenting theappearance of squatty pillars. In order to reach the higher kegs andfill up the pots of beer the cup-bearers were compelled to servethemselves with a ladder. By this time, however, the upper barrels hadlong been emptied. The old wine of Clermont that they once contained wascheering, warming and mounting to the heads of the convivial crowd.

  Yielding to his natural inclination for carousal, and delighting inadvance at the prospect of seeing Ronan the Vagre, the hermit-laborerand the beautiful bishopess executed on the morrow, Bishop Cautin couldhardly keep his seat. He drank, frolicked, bantered and even indulged insallies of aggressive sarcasm. Despite his aversion for Chram the bishopdared not shoot his arrows at him; and he stood in even greater awe ofthe Lion of Poitiers. The Gallic renegade, rancorous as the devilhimself, had said to the man of God, accompanying the word with thelooks of an enraged lion: "You forced me to alight from my horse andkneel down before you; I shall have my revenge; I shall abide my time."The real butt of the bishop's sarcasm was Neroweg, habitually stupid anddumb.

  "Count," Cautin said to him, "your hospitality comes from an overflowingheart; of that I am certain; but your food is execrable in itsabundance; it is all meat and fish, boiled and grilled, served inprofusion but without taste; it is a true barbarian's feast, who livesupon his flocks, hunting and fishing; there is not here a singleappetite-provoking and delicate dish; we are filled and that is all! Itake his glory, Prince Chram, for witness."

  "Our host and friend does his best," said Chram, who, finding hisprojects already somewhat deranged by the torture of Ronan the Vagre,was anxious to keep the count in good humor. "Before the cordial spiritof Neroweg's hospitality, I think little of the feast itself."

  "But I do think of it, glorious Prince," rejoined the bishop. "I havetold the count a hundred times that his cooks are detestable; they donot know how to prepare the food. Tell me, Neroweg, how much did you payfor the slave who is the chief of your kitchen?"

  "I paid nothing for him. My leudes found him on the road to Clermont,they took him and brought him to me in bonds. Yesterday, however, he hadhis feet burned by the trial of the judgment of God, and his tongue wasafterwards pulled out in punishment for his blasphemies. He must havebeen indisposed to-day and helped himself with other slaves who are lessskilful than himself in the preparation of food."

  "Oh, I understand! Of course having had his tongue cut out he was notable to taste the sauces; but he is nevertheless a wretched cook. And Iam not surprised; what can one expect of a cook who is picked upaccidentally on the high road! You do not seem to know, count, that badcooks spoil the best of dishes. Here, for instance, are somecranes--think of it, cranes! a toothsome meat, more succulent than anyif properly prepared. Now just see how that ass, that churl of a cookserves them up--boiled in water!"

  "Come, father, be not angry, we shall have them roasted next time."

  "Roasted! that would be still more criminal! roasted cranes! Come thisway, steward, I will give you the recipe for the cook--if he is capableof carrying it out."

  "Oh, holy bishop, with the help of the whip the cook could not choosebut carry out the recipe."

  "I must humbly declare that I am not the inventor of the way in whichcranes must be prepared. I read it and learned it from the writings ofApicius, a celebrated Roman gourmand, who died, alas, many years ago,but his genius will live as long as cranes will fly."

  "Let us have the recipe, father."

  "Here it is: You wash and dress your crane, you then put it in anearthen pot, with water, salt and anise--"

  "Well! that is just what my cook did; he washed the crane in water andsalt--"

  "But let me finish, barbarian, and you will soon enough see that thelazy ass stopped in the middle of the road instead of proceeding to theend. Now you must allow the water in which your crane is laid, to beboiled down one-half; thereupon you put it into a pan with olive oilbroth flavored with wild marjoram and coriander; when your crane is doneto the turn, pour in some wine mixed with honey and spices, a pinch ofcumin, a taste of benzoin, a bit of rue and some caraway seed boiled invinegar; pour in flour to give consistency to your sauce, which willthen be of a handsome gold brown tint; you pour this over your craneafter having placed the bird handsomely on a large platter with itsround neck gently curled in a circle and holding in its long beak aspray of greens. And now I ask his glory, Prince Chram, I ask ourillustrious friends here assembled--is there any comparison between acrane, prepared in such a style, and this shapeless, colorless thingthat seems to be swimming in a bowl of greasy water?"

  "If God, the Father, needed a cook, he would certainly choose you,sensuous bishop," said the Lion of Poitiers; "you would be no disgracein paradise as the chief of the celestial kitchens."

  At the impious jest the holy man made a grimace of rage, rememberingonly recently he had actually officiated as cook, but not inparadise--it was in Vagrery. He filled his cup and drained it at onedraught, looking askance
at the royal favorite.

  "Come, Count Neroweg," said Spatachair, "there is mercy for every sin;some other day you will treat us to a choicer feast--and you willpromise your wife to preside at the banquet."

  "And by the faith of the Lion of Poitiers, I promise not to chuckle herunder the chin too freely."

  "When you give that banquet, Neroweg," added Imnachair, despite theglances of Chram to check the insolence of his favorites, "when you giveus that banquet, you will not make us eat and drink, as you do to-day,out of copper and tin vessels, while you spread out before our dazzledeyes your gold and silver utensils in the center of the table--far fromour reach. It almost looks, you vainglorious rustic, as if you took usfor thieves."

  "Neroweg offers his hospitality in the way that suits him," put inSigefrid, the count's leude, in a tone of muffled anger; "those who eatthe meat and drink the wine of this house have no right to complain ofthe dishes--if these don't suit them, let them go and fill upelsewhere."

  "Are we, the King's men, to be chaffed for what we eat and drink at thisburg?"

  "That would be the height of impudence! As to me, I was surfeited beforeI touched a mouthful of these mountains of cold provisions."

  "Moreover, it is an insult," cried another of the guests. "We members ofthe royal bodyguard will brook no insult."

  "Do you think yourselves above us, because we are leudes of a count? Ifyou do, we may measure the distance between us, by measuring the lengthof our swords."

  "It is not swords, but hearts that we should measure."

  "Do you pretend to say that we, the faithful men of Neroweg, havesmaller hearts than you?"

  "A challenge let it be, thick-headed rustics!"

  "The thick-headed rustic is more than a match for the effeminate courtsoldier. And you will find it out on the spot if you dare put your handsto your swords."

  "Six against six, or more, if you prefer."

  "Nothing will suit us better than to cross swords with you."

  The altercation between the half tipsy Franks had started at one end ofthe table; at first it was conducted in a low voice, but it soon reachedsuch a pitch of loudness and exasperation that Chram, the bishop and thecount hastened to interpose and restore peace among the tablecompanions. It was with an ill grace and exchanging wild looks of hatredthat the intoxicated leudes subsided.

  Karadeucq and his bear, both preceded by the steward, had reached thethreshold of the banquet hall when the disturbance between the leudeswas silenced. The steward approached his master and said:

  "Seigneur, the mountebank with his bear and monkey are ready."

  "What, count, have you bears in this place?"

  "Chram, he is a strolling mountebank with his animals. I thought itwould amuse you at the close of the banquet, and I ordered him to bebrought in."

  The news of the proposed entertainment was joyfully received by all theFranks, and made them forget their recent quarrel and hard feelings.Some stood up, others rose on their haunches in order to be the first tosee the man, his monkey, and his bear. When Karadeucq appeared, loudroars of laughter shook the walls of the hall. It was not that theaspect of the old Vagre was amusing, but nothing could be imagined moregrotesque than the appearance of the lover of the bishopess under thebear's skin. He stepped forward heavily, clad in the jacket with itshood thrown back and seemed dazed by the light of the torches, althoughall the thirty or forty of them cast but a flickering and subdued lightover the vast hall. Thanks to this rather dim and unsteady light, andalso to the wide jacket that half enveloped the Vagre, his ursineappearance was perfect. Moreover, in order to keep the curious at adistance, Karadeucq pulled in the chain to which the animal wasattached and cried:

  "Seigneurs, do not come too near the teeth of the bear, he is oftensullen and ferocious."

  "Mountebank, keep close watch on your beast; should he unfortunatelyhurt anybody in this hall, I shall have him cut to pieces, and you willreceive for your share fifty lashes on your back!"

  "Seigneur count, have pity on me, poor old man that I am; I only have myanimals to earn my bread with--I have requested your noble and verynoble guests not to approach my bear too closely, in order to preventany unfortunate accident."

  "Step forward; I wish to have a closer view of your jolly companion; hewill not, I presume, dare to paw me, the son of King Clotaire."

  "Oh, very glorious Prince! these poor brutes are deprived ofintelligence and cannot distinguish between the great seigneurs of theworld and the humble slaves."

  "Step forward, step forward--a little closer."

  "Very glorious King, look out--it will be less dangerous to be close tothe monkey--I can let him out of his cage."

  "Oh, monkeys, I am not very curious to see those wicked animals. I havepages, plenty of them. Ha, ha, ha--look at the droll fellow with hisjacket. Look, Imnachair, how clumsily he carries himself--how hegrunts--for all the world he looks like the Lion of Poitiers in hismorning gown, after spending a night with women and wine."

  "What else should I do, Chram! I consider lost every night that I do notput to use in your style with wine and women."

  "Lion, you are unjust--I have become temperate and chaste."

  "Through exhaustion--O, chaste and sober Prince--did you renounce thepure girls and good wine!"

  "If so, you should rather pity than blame me. Ho, there, mountebank,what tricks can your bear perform? Is he clever?"

  "If you order it, glorious King, my bear will ride on horseback on mycane, and myself holding him by the chain, he will gracefully galloparound the hall."

  "Good; let us see him do it."

  "Attention! Mont-Dore."

  "How do you call him?"

  "Mont-Dore, glorious King. I give him that name because I caught himwhen he was still but a cub on one of the peaks of Mont Dore."

  "I am no longer surprised if your bear is ferocious. He was born in oneof the most notorious lairs of the accursed Vagres, those wandering men,those wolves, those heads of wolves who haunt only rocks, forests andcaverns. But as sure as this morning we put one of them to the torture,we shall end by wiping them all out, just as Count Neroweg did the otherday with a band of them who took refuge in the defile of Allange."

  "Oh, glorious King, may the Almighty deliver us from these pestilentialVagres! May He grant me the favor of never running across any of themexcept as he hangs from the gibbet--the way I saw the first and last onewhom I ever laid eyes upon--it was a terrible sight! The thought of itstill makes me tremble."

  "Where did you see that Vagre on the gibbet?"

  "Near the frontier of Limousin; over the gallows was this inscription:'This is Karadeucq the Vagre--so shall his likes be treated.'"

  "Karadeucq! The old bandit who with his bedevilled band so long raidedLimousin and Auvergne!"

  "Pillaging burgs and episcopal mansions!"

  "A worthy example, followed by the band of Ronan, the other dog that isto be executed to-morrow!"

  "Well, I am glad to hear it, at last we are delivered from thatKaradeucq! He was thought to be running the Vagrery in some otherregions, but his return was always apprehended."

  "Oh, glorious Prince, he will never be back again--unless the banditdescended from his gibbet, and that is unlikely. When I saw him danglingin the air his corpse was already half eaten up by the carrion crows,and both his hands and feet were chopped off."

  "Are you quite certain you saw the name of Karadeucq on that gibbet? Itwould be truly a great deliverance for the country."

  "Glorious King, his name is so uncommon in our country that it struck methe moment I saw it; hence I remember it well."

  "It is a Breton name," said Bishop Cautin; "it is one of the namescommon in those heretical and cursed regions that to this hourstubbornly resist the authority and orders of our councils. Oh, Chram,will the Frankish Kings never have the power and the will to reduce toobedience that savage Armorica, that hot-bed of druid idolatry, the onlyprovince of Gaul that until now has been able to withstand the arms ofKing Clo
vis, your grandfather, and his worthy sons and grandsons?"

  "Bishop, you have an easygoing way of talking about such matters. Morethan once did Clovis and the Frankish Kings, my ancestors, dispatchtheir best warriors to the conquest of that pestilential country, andour troops were every time cut to pieces in the marshes, the defiles andthe forests of Armorica. No, those indomitable Bretons are nothuman--they are demons! Oh, if all the other regions of Gaul had beenpeopled with that infernal race, ever rebellious to the Catholic church,we would still be struggling to maintain our power. But, old mountebank,you seem greatly affected; I noticed a tear roll down your grey beard;why so?"

  "If only one tear did run down my grey beard, it is because old men'seyes are stingy of tears."

  "And why would you have shed more?"

  "Oh, King, I would have wept all the tears in my head over those unhappyBretons whose detestable druid idolatry condemns them to theeverlasting flames, as our holy bishop used to say: unhappy blind menwho shut their eyes to the divine light of the faith! unhappy rebels,who dare turn their arms against our good seigneurs and masters, theFrankish Kings, whom our blessed bishops order us to obey in the name ofthe Church! Oh, Prince, I repeat it to you, but for that the eyes of anold man are stingy of tears, mine would flow in torrents at the thoughtof the damnable error of those unhappy heretics!"

  "Mountebank, you are a pious man," said Cautin; "kneel down and kiss myhand."

  "Holy bishop, blessed be the favor you grant me."

  "Rise, my son, and preserve your faith in our Church; have alsoconfidence in the future; the accursed idolaters and rebellious Bretonswill not much longer escape the just punishment that is in store forthem."

  "Oh, no! As true as scissors have never touched my hair, I, Chram, sonof Clotaire, King of France, I shall never rest so long as thoseArmorican demons are not crushed and drowned in their own blood. Toolong have they resisted our arms. We shall soon make short work ofthem."

  "May the Almighty hear your vow, great Prince, and may He grant me, apoor old man, enough days to witness the submission of that Brittanythat has so long remained stiffnecked and indomitable."

  "Now, mountebank, let us return to your bear; we had almost forgottenall about him, the wild fellow who was born in one of the lairs of theaccursed Vagres."

  "Nothing strange in that, glorious King! Are not those accursed fellowswolves? Have not bears and wolves the same dens? Come Mont-Dore, up mylad, show your skill to our holy bishop, who is present, and to theillustrious King Chram; also to the very renowned count and the nobleaudience. Take this cane--it shall be your mount; get on horseback andgallop around this table as gracefully as you can, and with thegentlest airs that you can put on. Come, Mont-Dore, to horse, thecourser will not run away with you. Make room, there, make room, there,noble seigneurs--above all, do not approach the animal too closely.Come, Mont-Dore, start galloping, my daring knight!"

  The lover of the beautiful bishopess straddled the cane which he heldbetween his two fore paws, and led by the chain which Karadeucq held hecommenced to prance with grotesque clumsiness around the hall amid theloud laughter of the assembled leudes.

  As he led him, the Vagre said to himself:

  "I came dangerously near betraying myself when I heard the Frankish Kingspeak of the bravery of the Breton race; my heart beat with pride fit tocrack my ribs; then, besides, I thought of good old grandfather Araim,who used to call me his pet! I thought of my father Jocelyn, of mymother Madalen--both no doubt dead in the country that I ran away frommore than forty years ago, and where my brother Kervan and my dear sweetsister Roselyk still live. At these thoughts tears came to my eyesdespite myself. Oh, my sons! Ronan! Loysik! here I am near to you, butshall I manage your delivery! Hesus! Hesus! inspire me."

  The Master of the Hounds pranced all along astride of the cane,encouraged in his antics by the laughter that it provoked in the Franks.Remembering the success that had crowned his efforts during the nightsof the calends of January, he indulged in gambols that delighted theblockish leudes and that carried their hilarity to the pitch ofhysterics. Above all the count held his sides and laughed and laughed,fit to burst his dalmatica of silver cloth. Suddenly he checked hislaughter and said to Chram:

  "King, would you see still better sport?"

  "Yes, count, what have you to propose? Your face is red to suffocation.You breathe like an ox. What new thought has just sprouted in yourhead?"

  "It is this: I have a plan--we have in the burg enormous and ferociousmastiffs that we use to hunt wolves and wild boars with. We shall chainthe bear to one of the beams of the hall."

  "And let loose some of your mastiffs against him? The idea isdelicious."

  "Yes, Chram; I want to offer you a royal treat."

  "Long live Count Neroweg! Come, fetch the dogs! The more ferocious theyare and sharp their teeth, all the more amusing will be the sight."

  "Yes, yes," cried the Franks with shouts of joy; "the dogs--the dogs--acombat between the bear and the dogs."

  "Hello! my master of the hounds, Gondolf! fetch in Mirff and Morff--ifthey leave a shred of skin and flesh on the bones of the bear I wishthis goblet of wine may be poison to me."

  "Seigneur, I shall run to the kennel and bring the mastiffs Mirff andMorff."

  When he heard the count's proposition, which was received with universalacclaim by the leudes, the lover of the bishopess, who, faithful to hisrole, was riding lustily on his cane around the table suddenlyinterrupted his antics and was on the point of expressing with somecompromising gesture his refusal to serve as quarry for the fangs ofMirff and Morff. Fortunately by means of a gentle tug given at thechain, Karadeucq recalled the Vagre to prudence and the latter continuedhis gambols with the most indifferent air in the world; but hisconductor, without letting the chain slip from his hands, threw himselfat the feet of Neroweg and said:

  "Seigneur count, illustrious seigneur!"

  "What would you of me, old mountebank?"

  "My bear is my bread winner--you will have him killed."

  "And I, do not I also run the risk of seeing the best two dogs of mypack hugged to death--or torn to pieces by your bear's claws? You saidyourself, your animal was ferocious."

  "Seigneur, you do not earn your living with your dogs; but my bear is mybread winner."

  "Dare you resist my will?"

  "Oh, great Prince," said Karadeucq on his knees, but turning towardsChram: "A poor old man addresses him to your glory; one word from you tothis illustrious seigneur, who respects you as the son of his King, andhe will renounce his project. I swear to you by my salvation, the othertricks of my bear which I have not exhibited will amuse a hundredfoldmore than the bloody combat that will deprive me of my bread winner."

  "Come, rise old mountebank, I shall not hinder you in the making of yourliving."

  "Thanks to you, great King, my bear is saved!"

  Chram's words provoked violent murmurs from the count's leudes; not onlydid they see themselves deprived of a spectacle that was to delighttheir eyes, but they imagined themselves humiliated anew, now in theperson of the master of the house, their count. The murmurs grew louder.

  "Chram is not King in this burg, Neroweg," cried Sigefrid, one of theprincipal starters of the quarrel that was allayed just as Karadeucqentered the hall with his bear. "No, King Chram cannot by a word depriveus of an amusement that it pleases you to afford us. Neroweg is King inhis burg."

  "No, no," loudly chimed in the other warriors of the count, "we want tosee the fight with the bear. The dogs! the dogs! Neroweg alone commandshere."

  "Yes, and to the devil with the King!" cried Sigefrid.

  "The devil take Chram if he opposes our enjoyment! We are masters here."

  "Only brutes of rustics send their guest to the devil when he is the sonof their King," put in the Lion of Poitiers with a threatening air. "Isthat the example in courtesy that you set to your men, Neroweg? It seemsso, judging by the conduct of your steward, who is hastening now, whenthe banquet is hardly over, t
o carry away your gold and silver vesselsout of fear, I suppose, lest we steal them."

  "My sons! My dear sons in Christ! Are you about to start quarrelinganew? I order peace, my sons--in the name of heaven, keep the peace!"

  "Bishop, you are right to preach peace; these brave leudes who fear thatI am interfering with their amusement did not understand me. I told themountebank that I would not hinder him from earning his living."

  "Thanks again, thanks again, great King."

  "How much is your bear worth?"

  "He is priceless to me."

  "Whatever sum you may fix will be counted out to you, in case your bearis killed."

  The King's words were received by the acclamations of the Franks, andallayed the quarrel that was on the point of breaking out. Karadeucq,however, without rising from his knees, cried:

  "Great King, no sum can repay me for my bear; mercy, beg the count todesist from his project."

  "The dogs! Here are the dogs!"

  "In all my life I have not seen such mastiffs!" exclaimed Chram withadmiration. "Count, if your whole pack is similarly fitted out, it willrival mine, which I considered matchless."

  "What flanks! What enormous paws! Ha, Chram, if you only heard theirvoices, the bellowing of a bull is like the song of a nightingale besidetheir barking when they are on the tracks of a wild boar. I am justlyproud of my dogs."

  "I wager that one of them will be enough to kill the bear as truly as myname is Spatachair."

  "Come, tie the bear to one of the beams, old mountebank, and let usbegin." "I told you, if your beast is killed, I shall pay whatever sumyou may say, royally and without chaffering."

  "Illustrious King, have pity on a poor man."

  "Enough, enough--chain up the bear to one of the beams, and be done."

  "Seigneur bishop, in the name of your blessed hand which you give me tokiss, be charitable towards my poor animal."

  "Is he perchance a Christian that I should exercise charity towards him?Oh, mountebank, mountebank, had you not shown yourself a minute ago tobe a pious man, I would consider this last request an outrage."

  To insist any longer would have been to risk losing everything.Karadeucq understood this, and addressing himself to Chram, said:

  "Glorious King, let your will be done; but allow me to make one lastrequest."

  "Hurry up."

  "The spectacle will only be a butchery; my bear being chained he willnot be able to defend himself."

  "Would you perchance leave him loose, old idiot, and have him devourus!"

  "No, King; but if you would wish an amusement that would last some time,then at least equalize the forces; permit me to arm my bear with aclub."

  "Has he not his nails?"

  "For the sake of prudence I have filed them off--you notice how smoothhis paws are."

  "Very well, he shall have a club--but do you think he will know how tohelp himself with it?"

  "Alas, the fear of being devoured will force him to defend himself asbest he may; in all your life you will not have seen such a spectacle."

  "And you, Neroweg," said Sigefrid, more than any other of the leudes astickler for the count's dignity, "do you allow the bear to have a club?You alone have the right to say here: 'I will.'"

  "Yes, yes, I allow the club--I think that the bear striking at the dogswith a club will be a wonderful spectacle. And yet, I would have greatlypreferred to have seen the beast killed by Mirff and Morff. But thatwould have ended the sport too quickly. Come, let the slaves blow thehorns, and you others, who beat the drums, blow and beat at yourloudest, or you shall have your own backs drummed upon; and you,torch-bearing slaves, draw near the circle that is to be formed. Holdhigh your torches that we may see the combat well. Strike up, youdrummers! blow on the hunting horns in order to excite the dogs well."

  "To the beam; tie the bear to the beam!"

  Karadeucq led the lover of the bishopess to a corner of the hall,chained him to one of the beams of the colonnade, put between his pawsthe knotty club on which he had been riding and said to him:

  "Come, my poor Mont-Dore; courage; you will have to defend yourselfwell, seeing that you have to fight against two dogs for the amusementof the noble seigneurs; show yourself worthy of your race."

  A wide circle was formed, lighted by the torch-bearing slaves. In thefront rank of the audience stood King Chram, his three favorites, thecount, the bishop and several leudes; all the others mounted the table.In the center of the circle, clad in his ample jacket, which hadfortunately been left to him, stood the Vagre-bear; he preserved anintrepid countenance; he naively sat down on his haunches, like a bearwho expects no evil, and nonchalantly held his club between his forepaws; occasionally he leaned the club against his body in order toscratch himself with a movement of graceful and easy abandon. Suddenlythe hunting horns struck up their deafening uproar. Gondolf, the count'smaster of the hounds, stepped into the circle holding the two monstrousmastiffs by the leash. From their enormous necks a dewlap similar tothat of a bull dropped down upon their chests; their large bloodshoteyes were half hidden under their long and drooping ears; black, whiteand yellow streaks ran over their shaggy skin which bristled up on theirbacks the moment they perceived the bear. Instantly they barkedfuriously, and dashing forward wildly they broke the leash that Gondolfstill held in his hand. In two bounds they precipitated themselves uponthe lover of the bishopess.

  "At him, Mirff! At him, Morff!" cried the count clapping his hands. "Athim! At the quarry, my wild fellows! Leave him not a shred of flesh onhis bones!"

  "Unless a miracle of strength and skill takes place, my companion willbe torn to pieces, our strategy discovered, and the last chance of mysons' escape will be lost; if so, I shall swiftly stab both the King andthe count at their hearts," said Karadeucq to himself, and as he did,his hand reached under his blouse, for the dagger that he had therehidden. His hand firmly seized it, ready for immediate use.

  Seemingly unaffected by the sight of the dogs, the Vagre-bear continuedto perform his role with unaltered presence of mind, bravery and skill;he made a momentary movement of surprise, but immediately backed upagainst the beam and held himself ready, with uplifted club, to repelthe attack of the dogs. Mirff was the first to dash forward, aiming athis belly, but that very instant the Vagre-bear struck him so violent ablow over the head that the club broke in three, and Mirff dropped as ifstruck by thunder, and emitting terrible howls.

  "Malediction!" cried the count. "There goes a mastiff that cost me threegold sous! Here, my men, have that ferocious bear immediatelydisemboweled with your boar spears and iron bars!"

  The count's imprecations were drowned by the frantic shouts of the restof the audience, who, themselves more disinterested than Neroweg in thecourse that the combat was taking, applauded the bear's valor andawaited the issue of the struggle with anxious curiosity. TheVagre-bear, now disarmed and wholly exposed, was at close quarters withthe other mastiff, that, the moment the club was broken, seized hisadversary in the thigh with his formidable fangs and threw him down withthe impetuosity of the shock. The blood of Karadeucq's companion flowedcopiously and reddened the leaves with which the floor was strewn. Twicedid the bear and the dog roll over each other; at the third time,pinning to the ground with the full weight of his body the mastiff,that, like Deber-Trud, did not loosen its teeth from its enemy, theVagre clutched the brute by the throat and held him in such a tightclutch between his vigorous hands, that the animal was strangled. Duringthis doubly terrible struggle not only did the mastiff's bite cause theVagre an intense pain, but he ran at every instant the risk of being cutto pieces, together with Karadeucq, if, by the slightest accident, hebut betrayed himself;--the lover of the bishopess remained true to hisursine role; he emitted no sound other than a few muffled grunts. Thecombat being over, the worthy animal crouched down in a lump at the footof the beam between the corpses of the two mastiffs; with his headbetween his fore paws he seemed patiently to lick his bleeding wound,while Chram, his favorites and several even o
f the count's leudesvociferously acclaimed the triumph of the bear.

  "Alas, alas!" murmured old Karadeucq as he approached his companion. "Mypoor bear is wounded, mortally perhaps. I have lost my bread winner."

  "Fetch boar spears and axes!" cried the count foaming at the mouth withfury. "Let the ferocious brute be cut to pieces on the spot; he has justkilled Mirff and Morff, the best two dogs of my pack! By the TerribleEagle, my ancestor, I order that the cursed bear be cut to piecesinstantly! Did you hear me, Gondolf?" he added, addressing his master ofthe hounds and trembling with rage. "Take down one of those huntingspears from the wall--kill that bear, kill him on the spot!"

  Gondolf hastened to arm himself as he was ordered, while Karadeucq,kneeling down again, cried to Chram with outstretched arms:

  "Great King, my only hope rests with you. I implore mercy from you. Iplace myself under your protection and under the protection of yourroyal suite. Oh, redoubtable and invincible warrior! Oh, ye othervalorous warriors of the King's suite, as terrible in battle as you aregenerous after victory, you surely will not want to see this animalkilled; he vanquished, but was wounded in the struggle and foughtfairly! No, no, ever following the example of your glorious King, yourrefined and courteous honor will revolt at such brutal cowardice, evenif committed towards a poor animal! Oh, warriors who are as brilliant byyour armor and military grace as you are terrible by your valor, I placemyself at the mercy and under the protection of your King. He willdemand the life of my bear of the seigneur count, who can refuse nothingto such a noble guest!"

  The Frank is vainglorious; his pride delights in the most exaggeratedpraises of himself; Karadeucq was aware of this; moreover, by addressinghimself exclusively to the royal bodyguard, he expected to throw oncemore the apple of discord between them and the count's leudes. His wordswere favorably received by the warriors of Chram, who, stepping towardsNeroweg, said:

  "Count, we demand of you grace for this brave animal, and we do so inthe name of the old German custom, according to which a guest's requestis always granted."

  "King, the custom to the contrary notwithstanding, I shall avenge thedeath of Mirff and Morff, who cost me six gold pieces. Gondolf, fetchthe spears and axes; the bear shall be cut to pieces instantly!"

  "Count, the poor mountebank has placed himself under my protection. Imay not forsake him."

  "Chram, whether or not you protect the old bandit, I shall revenge thedeath of my magnificent dogs Mirff and Morff."

  "Listen, Neroweg, I have a pack that is worth fully as much as yours.You saw it hunt in the forest of Margevol. You may send the master ofthe hounds to my villa, let him pick out six of my best and handsomestdogs to replace the two that lie dead at our feet."

  "I said I would revenge Mirff and Morff," yelled the count furiously,grinding his teeth. "Gondolf, the spears! the spears! death to thedevilish bear!"

  "You savage rustic, you fail in all the duties of hospitality by denyingthe request of the King's son," bellowed the Lion of Poitiers atNeroweg, "just as you insulted us, your guests, by keeping your wifefrom the banquet, and by having your gold and silver vessels removedfrom the table even before the banquet was over! You are more of a bearthan that animal, which you shall not kill. I forbid you--the mountebankhas placed himself under the protection of Chram and of us, his men."

  "Companions!" cried Sigefrid, "shall we tolerate the heaping of insultsupon our count?"

  "Just listen to the rustic brutes!" observed aloud one of Chram'swarriors, "listen to them, barking as ever, without daring to bite."

  "I, Neroweg, king in this burg, as any king in his kingdom, I shall killthat bear! And if you say another word, you whom they call Lion, I shallknock you down at my feet with a blow from my axe, insolent palace cub!"

  "You dare insult me, you smut-covered boar!" screamed the Gallicrenegade as, pale with anger, he drew his sword with one hand and withthe other seized the count by the collar of his dalmatica. "You seem towant me to turn your throat into a sheath for my blade! Ask for mercy,or you are a dead man!"

  "Ha, you double thief! You wish to steal my gold necklace!" criedNeroweg, thinking only of defending his jewelry, and concluding from thegesture of his adversary that the latter's purpose was to rob him. "Iwas right to place my gold and silver vessels out of the clutches of allof you thievish palace cubs."

  "He calls us all thieves! To your swords, men of the royal bodyguard!Let us avenge our honor! Let us slash these rustics!"

  "Ha, bastard dogs!" cried Neroweg between whom and the Lion of PoitiersSigefrid had thrown himself. "You speak of swords--here is one for you,and of good temper; you will taste it, profligate blasphemer, who haveof a lion only the name! To me, my leudes! they have raised their handsagainst your count! Let us slash the royal bodyguard!"

  "Neroweg!" cried Chram interposing, as his favorite, who had shakenhimself loose from Sigefrid, rushed at the count with upraised sword,"are you all fools to quarrel in this manner? Lion, I order you to putup your sword."

  "Oh, great St. Martin, blessings upon your name for giving me theopportunity to chastise the sacrilegious whelp who had the audacity toraise his switch at my holy bishop, and who has never ceased sneering atboth the holy man and me since he stepped into my burg," cried thecount, deaf to the words of Chram, and striving to reach his adversary,from whom he had been again separated in the midst of the uproar.

  "Boys, let us defend Neroweg!" Sigefrid called out to his fellow leudesof the count. "This is a good opportunity to prove to the braggards thatour rough-looking swords are better than their parade weapons! To arms!Down with them to the last man!"

  "And we also to arms! let us settle accounts with these dogs of thebasement! They think they are strong, because they are on their owndunghill. Death to the clowns. Let us defend the favorite of King Chram,our King! Swing your axes!"

  "My dear sons in God," screamed the bishop in a vain endeavor todominate the tumult and the increasing uproar, "I order you, all of you,to put up your swords! It is an affliction to the Lord to see His sonsquarrel over trifles. Obey your father in God!"

  "My friends!" cried Chram in his turn but without being able to makehimself heard, "it is folly, it is stupidity to slay one another in thiswise. Imnachair! Spatachair! calm our men; and you, Neroweg, calm yoursinstead of exciting them!"

  Vain words; they dropped unheard; neither Neroweg nor the rest of theleudes did or cared to listen to words of conciliation. As to Neroweghimself, a mass of combatants had again thrown themselves between himand the Lion of Poitiers, to whom he called in an enraged voice andstruggled to reach. The warriors of Chram and those of the count soonpassed from insults and threats, hurled at each other from a distance,to a hand-to-hand conflict. At the first blow the engagement becamegeneral--maddening, furious, maudlin and all the more terrible becausethe torch-bearing slaves, who alone lighted the hall, fearing to bekilled in the brawl, fled away precipitately, some throwing theirtorches to the ground and thus extinguishing them, others carrying thelighted torches with them in their distracted flight. In an instant thebanquet hall was deprived of its living illumination; the battlecontinued in the dark with blind ferocity.

  And Karadeucq and the lover of the beautiful bishopess, did they remainquietly in the midst of the butchery? Oh, by no means! Vagres knowbetter than that. After having skilfully thrown the firebrand in themidst of the leudes of the King and the count, Karadeucq saw withpleasure the flames of angry rivalry between the two sets of barbariansflare up a third time, after twice having been appeased; and it was withdelight that he noticed it rage in such manner that both he and his bearwere lost sight of. As soon as the conflagration which he had kindledwas well under way, the old Vagre rushed to the bear, and unchaininghim, said at his companion's ear: "Follow close at my heels and do as Ido."

  The melee was at its height; the torch-bearers had either fled or werefleeing, leaving the banquet hall in almost perfect darkness. Followedby the Master of the Hounds Karadeucq threw himself under the wide andmassive table which
, although now broken in parts, was not upset by thecombat, being, contrary to the habit of the Franks, fastened to thefloor. Thus under shelter for a moment the old Vagre unfastened thechain from around the neck of the lover of the bishopess, whereuponcontinuing to grope their way under the table by the flickering light ofthe extinguishing torches on the floor, they reached the door of thebanquet hall, which was free from the combatants, and rushed out. Asthey issued from the banquet hall the Vagres found themselves face toface with two slaves who, having fled through another issue, wererunning distracted with their torches in their hands. Each Vagre seizedone of the slaves by the throat.

  "Extinguish your torch," said Karadeucq, "and lead me straight to the_ergastula_, or you die this instant."

  "Give me your torch," said the lover of the bishopess, "and take mestraight to the hay lofts, or I stab you to death."

  The two slaves obeyed; the Vagres parted company; one ran towards thehay lofts and barns, the other to the _ergastula_, both guided by theirconductors.