CHAPTER XV.

The captivity of the Duke de Normandie was insupportable to Charlemagne, for he was one of his bravest and most redoubtable knights. The emperor complained bitterly to his peers and raved like a man out of his senses at the infamy of Maugis in retaining his prisoner.

“Consider, sire,” responded Roland to him, “it seems to me that Maugis is perfectly right, and I am astonished that you fail to recognize it. He would be pushing his generosity to blindness if he allowed Richard to go. Do you not remember how grandly Maugis has acted in the past, and with what admiration he has inspired us all? How he gave you back your crown and your treasures; how he returned to each of us our swords, which he had a perfect right to keep? Can you not see in these actions not only generosity, but grandeur of soul of the highest degree? Alas! how have you returned these acts of greatness? You tightened the cordon around Montaubon and besieged him anew with such vigor that only a few soldiers and their families escaped. The rest of the inhabitants died of famine or of pest. You have pursued him with bitterness and sought to take him alive that you might make him suffer the most rigorous punishment. If he captured the Duke Richard, was the duke not pursuing him to the very entrance of the city, in order to capture him and deliver him to you? Again, do you not remember what you would have done to his brother Richard, when you had him in your power? That he escaped death was certainly not due to your pardon, but because Maugis wrested him from the hands of his executioners.”

“Of what avail to thus recount the past?” demanded Charlemagne uneasily.

“Simply this, sire!” continued Roland boldly. “If Maugis should release the Duke de Normandie, I should tax him of folly. I am surprised he has been so lenient as not to execute him at once, and if you would save him from that fate, it would be best for you to take immediate steps by granting Maugis those conditions of peace he has so long desired.

“Never!” cried Charlemagne obstinately.

“Sire, I beseech thee, reflect,” persuaded Roland. “Reverse your decision and do not seek to further abuse the magnanimity of a man so brave as Maugis. Grant him, therefore, sire, peace. I ask it of you in the name of all your most noble knights.”

These sincere words at last produced on Charlemagne the most profound impression. He thereupon charged Oger and the Duke de Naimes to go to Maugis and offer him peace on condition of the surrender of the Duke Richard de Normandie, only he clung tenaciously to his first idea concerning Renaud. He still insisted that Renaud should be delivered to him. It was in vain his peers represented to him that this condition would be refused as it had been in the past; but he turned a deaf ear to them, and still persisted in his resolutions.

At this moment Pinabel, who had recovered from his fright, came running up.

“Beware,” cried he. “Know thou that the old knight, who yesterday enchanted me by his magical powers; the pilgrim whom you have fed, the infirm and paralyzed knight whom you congratulated yesterday on the result of the combat, are one and the same man, and that man is Maugis.”

At first they were all incredulous, but Charlemagne finally divined the truth; but beyond creating astonishment it made no impression upon him. He turned to Oger and De Naimes, and bade them go at once to Maugis and lay before him his proposition.

The ambassadors at once proceeded to Dordogne, and in due time were presented to Maugis, who gave them a cordial reception.

The Duke de Naimes laid before him the proposals of the emperor.

“Charlemagne has not departed at all from his original conditions,” said Maugis in reply. “It is always the same. I would never deliver up my cousin Renaud. An Aymon is incapable of such cowardice. He asks for the Duke de Normandie—does he suppose I have lost all my bitterness? No, the oppression of the emperor has hardened my heart. I am unpitying now. The Duke Richard shall suffer execution, and you, sir knights,” he added sternly, “if you ever come before me again and insult me with such infamous propositions I will treat you as traitors and spies.”

The three envoys upon hearing this firm response turned away without a word, provoked that the emperor would not recognize the noble character of this man. They remounted their horses and returned to the camp, where they repeated to him the words of Maugis, and swore to him that he was now thoroughly angered, but Charlemagne seemed to be blind to the qualities of such a brave man.

“Take care, sire!” cried Oger, “Maugis has been brave and generous up to this day, but if he has lost his patience he will likely be severe to the other extreme. Richard de Normandie is now in his hands, who can guarantee he will be the only victim?”

Charlemagne reflected at this in silence, and was about to order Oger and Roland to return to Maugis, when Pinabel once again intervened and prevented the utterance of this good thought.

“It is difficult for me to see, sir knights,” said he, “why you all seem to be in such fear of Maugis. That he is a brave man is true, but why should the emperor retrace his steps? Do you not remember that Maugis has demanded peace several times? Well! do you think that he would dare to touch a hair of the Duke de Normandie? He knows too well it would be the departure for him of the last chance of either pardon or mercy.”

This subtle advice, so harmonious to the prejudices of the emperor, had the effect intended by Pinabel and the coterie of cowardly courtiers who sympathized with him and who applauded the emperor when he uttered these words:

“Enough! I do not know why I have been so weak as to bother with these rebels. I can clearly see that if I commence to cede anything I can continue to do so. Go,” said he, turning to the Duke de Naimes, “and signify my will to Maugis, and say to him that the end of this day ends every chance for him to secure any conditions of grace from me if he does not submit to my conditions.”

Understanding at the outset that his mission would be a failure, and thoroughly disgusted by the weakness of the emperor, the Duke de Naimes declared shortly:

“Your majesty, I refuse to accept the mission,” and then withdrew from the audience.

While this discussion was occurring at the imperial camp, Maugis was deliberating with his three brothers as to the fate of the Duke de Normandie. His associates would have him suffer the same fate as that to which Charlemagne had condemned one or the other of them. Accordingly, Maugis gave orders that preparations should be made for the execution, and to give it proper effect, that it should take place from the highest tower of Dordogne, in full view of the camp of Charlemagne.

These preparations were no sooner commenced than they were perceived by Roland, who guarded that side, and he hurried immediately to the emperor, filled with indignation.

“Sire,” said he, “is this the way you recompense the Duke Richard for his devotion to you? If this be the way you recognize faithful services, it will be but little encouragement to those who remain with you. I swear for myself that I thought to see more generosity on your part.”

“Have no fears, Roland,” replied the emperor lightly; “these preparations, which cause thee so much uneasiness, are merely a threat; they are simply a means employed by Maugis to force us to come to terms of peace. As for the Duke Richard, rest assured, I have no fears for his life.”

The next day, when everything was complete, the brave and fearless Richard de Normandie sat in a strong room over the citadel of Dordogne, engaged in a game of chess with Yon, the eldest son of Maugis, when two officers with a guard appeared and announced they had come to bring him to execution. He paid no attention to them, but calmly continued his game.

“My lord,” said the officer respectfully, “it is very painful to me to interrupt thy game with this summons, but I have my orders, and must execute them.”

Suddenly, and without warning, Richard leaped to his feet, and seizing the heavy chessboard and using it as a weapon, he fell upon the guard with such suddenness and fury that four of them were stretched lifeless on the floor and the rest were driven from the room. Then he seated himself and ranging the men upon the chessboard, continued the game as calmly as if he had not been interrupted, calling his servants and ordering them to remove the bodies of the soldiers with all the coolness that he would command some small service.

The young son of Maugis was trembling so much at this violence that he could not play, and Alard, who was waiting in the courtyard below for the coming of Richard, being apprised of what had occurred, hurried to Maugis, reporting that Richard was making a strong resistance, and had taken the lives of the men sent to seize him.

Maugis went at once to the chamber of Richard, and demanded of him:

“Sir knight, why hast thou killed my people?”

“They came here,” responded Richard; “several men who interrupted the game of chess I was playing with your son. They put their hands on me, and I killed some of them, and put the rest to flight, that is all. It is no reason because I am your prisoner why your people should insult me.”

[Illustration: CATHEDRAL OF MOUZON.]

“We do not omit politeness here,” said Maugis, “and I know perfectly well all the laws of chivalry. It is for that reason I am acting this way. Charlemagne has abused me and has dishonored me. I simply retaliate. You are my prisoner. I shall give you up to execution, that is my right. Have I treated you the way my brother Richard was treated, when he was condemned to the gibbet, and from which he escaped only through the courage of his brothers? No, he was covered with chains like a criminal. I would not subject you to that. I would employ no violence with you, but you must realize that my soldiers came here to fulfill orders they had received. There is only one way for you to escape death, that is to join my service and become my friend.”

“That is impossible,” replied Richard. “I have sworn an oath of fidelity to the emperor, and I never violate my oath.”

“Then you must be resigned to die. It is useless to lose any more time in discussion that amounts to nothing.”

“Ah, well! let us go,” said Richard. “I know well the greatness of your heart, and I deliver myself to you, believing you incapable of a mean action.”

The Duke de Normandie forthwith surrendered, and was escorted to the place of execution. Maugis had made preparations for that sorrowful ceremony, so as to give it all the formidable display possible. All the troops were under arms. At the last moment Maugis again appealed to Richard:

“Brave knight,” said he, “it is most painful for me to send to execution a man of such courage and honor—renounce then the emperor, I pray thee, and join us in seeking to attain peace.”

“No,” replied Richard, “I have sworn homage to Charlemagne, and though I die because of his fault, I will not break my oath. If it depended upon me to grant thee peace, I could ask for nothing better; therefore grant thou me delay that I may send word to the emperor.”

Maugis at once called a herald, bidding him to take the instructions of Richard and go with them to Charlemagne.

“Tell him,” said Richard, “that I am at the foot of the gibbet, to which I am attached ready for the signal of death, and that I supplicate him to grant my demand for peace. You will also beg of Roland and all the peers to seek to obtain the peace on which my life depends.”

The herald hastened away and in due time appeared before Charlemagne and acquitted him of his errand. Strange to say, the eccentric emperor was inflexible, while he knew he was acting, with a few exceptions, without the sympathy of his entire court, and even when all the peers, without exception, fell on their knees to him, and supplicated him to save Richard by granting peace to Maugis, Charlemagne was obdurate and stern in his refusal to interfere, and as the herald was about to withdraw, Roland stopped him.

“Say to Duke Richard de Normandie,” cried he, “that though the emperor will blindly let him die, we, his courtiers, do protest and disapprove. Tell him that we will abandon Charlemagne and his service, that we none of us consent to devote ourselves to a prince who would be willing to see a man sacrificed like him, merely to support his wounded vanity.”

It was an exciting moment. Then with one accord the peers acclaimed the words of Roland.

The suspense was intense.

In the midst of it all Charlemagne sat stern and unchanged.

Then the Archbishop Turpin came forward and said: “Sire, I leave thee with regret, but thou art committing a grave wrong. I must therefore leave thee. I prefer to sustain my honor rather than abandon it in a cowardly way.”

Charlemagne still sat with pallid face and stern brow, and said not a word.

The peers, one after another, all then left his presence, each going to their own quarters, forthwith gathering their belongings, striking their tents and assembling their own soldiers, conducted them without the imperial camp.

The remaining soldiers of the emperor gazed aghast, astonished and fearful to see the army of Charlemagne reduced more than one-half by the departure of the peers and their men.

Two men only viewed this movement with satisfaction. They thought that now they had become indispensable to the emperor, and that they could secure his confidence to their own profit. It is needless to say these two were the traitorous Ganelon and the cowardly Pinabel.

In the meantime the herald had returned to Dordogne, and repeated faithfully all that had occurred. The Duke de Normandie perceived that it was useless to count on the support of any one who would thus abandon him when he had shown the devotion of refusing to escape death at the price of dishonor.

“It is well,” said he, turning to Maugis with a smile; “I am at thy service. I am ready to die.”

“This is too much,” cried Maugis, hastening to Richard and embracing him. “Pardon me,” said he, “for the cruel hours I have caused you to pass. I was certain in advance that you would prefer death to being false to your oath, and I only employed the stratagem to obtain by force from the emperor what it seems impossible for me to obtain by my prayers. There was no reason why Charlemagne should be wanting in generosity to me in face of the support of such consequences. Thou shalt not die.”

Maugis then sent his herald to the twelve deserting peers, bidding him to tell them that in consideration of their grand action he had pardoned Richard de Normandie.

In reply to this message the peers gave Maugis to understand that they should refuse reconciliation with the emperor until he had granted him peace.

The twelve peers then made preparations for their departure homeward, but before leaving ranged themselves under the walls of Dordogne, and exchanged signals of adieu with its brave defenders.

The Emperor Charlemagne, though a man of violent passions, obstinate and eccentric, was withal a wise man. The view of these preparations for departure of these noblemen, who had been his best friends, caused him to seriously reflect. He was seized with grave doubts as to the wisdom of his course, and he called Pinabel and told him of his fears.

Here it was the cowardly adviser failed to grasp the situation, which called for the utmost diplomacy. Assuming upon his position now as the sole adviser of the emperor, he uttered these bold words:

“Sire! I comprehend neither your fears nor your regrets,” said he. “Can you not do for yourself as well as you could before the departure of these rebellious knights? Have you not enough soldiers to reduce whom you would, and then you may battle with your own subjects, who owe you obeisance? Therefore force these contumacious peers to remain. You have been made their commander and they must obey you.”

Charlemagne revolted at such advice against noblemen whom he loved, especially coming from the mouth of a man who compared with them neither in character nor ability, and one whom he distrusted more and more. His eyes commenced their well-known ominous sparkling; like a flash it all came to him, that this man, to whose insidious advice he had listened so long, was guided by an ignoble ambition, that he had not scrupled to compromise the dignity of his sovereign. Like a flash it came to Charlemagne how he had been misled by the deceitful Abbé Gorieux, who, however, by this time, had craftily absented himself, no one knew whither, to escape what he saw was the inevitable end of the conspirators. Like a flash it came to the now thoroughly aroused Charlemagne how he had been misled by deceits and flatteries and appeals to his self-pride to do injustice and compromise his dignity.

“Enough!” he thundered to the shrinking Pinabel. “Thou hast abused my confidence; thou hast thought by appealing cunningly to my vanity to prevent me from exercising my first and best thoughts; thou hast worked on my pride to a point where I would lose my army rather than see justice. It shall be so no longer. What, ho there! a guard,” he shouted, and when the officers appeared, he ordered:

“Bind this villain hand and foot and bear him to the camp of the twelve peers. Tell them,” he commanded, “that I deliver into their hands the traitorous coward who has, by his perfidious councils, tried to sow discord between us, and who, actuated by a mean jealousy of the brave Maugis, has kept me always excited against the sons of Aymon. Tell them to do with him what they will, I abandon him to their resentment. Tell them that I hope they will take into account this tardy act of loyalty on my part, and that they will return to my camp and continue to aid me by their good counsels.”