CHAPTER IV.

Charlemagne had no sooner been apprised by Ganelon of the misfortune to the Duke de Beuves d’Aigremont, then he expedited a courier to the duchess to assure her of his profound regret, and above all to give her to understand that, although for sufficient reasons he had granted grace to the murderers, it was not by his means, either directly or indirectly, that the infamy was consummated.

The duchess, however, while appreciating the step of the emperor, said to the messenger:

“Go tell thy master that to avenge my husband is now my sole desire; that to accomplish this end I should sacrifice my family, my fortune and my life. I shall from this day henceforth regard the carrying out of this project a solemn duty.”

In the meantime the Duke d’Aymon and his sons, appreciating the fatal consequences of a war to both parties, besought the Duchess d’Aigremont to allow them to go to Charlemagne and make an appeal to him for satisfaction for the injury done the family.

Charlemagne received the duke and his sons graciously. He understood the motive that had led them to preserve neutrality during the late war and he now entertained no resentment to them for it. On that account he gave the duke and his sons to understand that they occupied a high place in his favor.

Notwithstanding the fair words of the emperor, the five ambassadors feared he would evade the question. Ganelon had not been summoned. Aymon represented to the emperor the enormity of the crime and the disloyalty of Ganelon, as well as the bad effect it would have on the army to pardon such a traitor.

The emperor said in reply: “I well know, my noble duke, that what thou sayest is just and reasonable. I also assure thee that I have already pardoned Ganelon,” and, he added sternly: “Having given our royal word, we shall maintain it, it being our good pleasure to do so.”

The Duke d’Aymon made no reply to these plain words and with flushed face retired.

Maugis, however, could not restrain himself and said boldly to the emperor:

“Sire! if thou wilt not render justice to this traitor Ganelon, then there be nothing left for us to do but to take up arms and secure justice for ourselves.”

At these defiant words, spoken in a firm tone, a great hush fell on the courtiers there assembled.

Griffon, who stood near the door, said in an undertone to a grizzled captain of the guard:

“Oho! that’s a brave young cock—but watch and see his comb cut.”

Charlemagne’s brow darkened and his eyes flashed; he half rose and thundered: “What!” cried he, “have you forgotten the obligations thou art under to me? If it were not for thy father I should order for thee the punishment you deserve. If I ever hear that another word from you on this subject has escaped your lips you will have good cause to regret the business.”

Maugis then saw that he had gone too far and hastened to offer his excuses to the emperor, and Charlemagne finally, his anger passing, invited them to dinner.

It was a trying moment and it was no ordinary man who could calmly face the anger of the great emperor.

Griffon nudged his companion and whispered: “Seest thou that?”

The young knight was turning away somewhat abashed when casually glancing at the ladies-in-waiting, a soft pair of blue eyes caught his own, and forgetting instantly the exciting incident in which he had just had a part, with a sudden thrill he recognized the lady of the tournament, whose ribbon knot he even then wore next his heart and whose face had never left him, either in his wakeful moments or in his dreams.

Momentary as the glance was, he read in those beautiful orbs the deepest sympathy, and the happy light that sprang into his own eyes told the fair maiden more than even words could have done.

Momentary as the eye interview was before the modest gaze of the beautiful girl fell before the ardent look of Maugis, there was one who had seen it and understood. It had caused the bitterest feelings of hatred and jealousy to surge in his black heart. That man was the treacherous Ganelon, who lurked in the rear of a group of courtiers while the exciting events just chronicled, that so nearly concerned himself, were occurring.

He had in vain pressed his love upon the Princess Yolande, who had not long before arrived from her home in the south to act as lady-in-waiting on the empress. She had repulsed his unwelcome attentions in every way her gentle nature would allow, but the coarse and persistent villain would brook no rebuff.

Meanwhile the court had adjourned to the banquet hall, where these unpleasant happenings were soon forgotten by all but a few of the most concerned. After the emperor had arisen from the table and had withdrawn at the conclusion of the banquet, Prince Berthelot, the nephew of Charlemagne, wishing to show some courtesy to the Aymon family, invited Maugis to a game of chess, a game much in vogue in those days.

Maugis courteously accepted, and they assumed their seats at the board while the courtiers gathered around to witness the game. Maugis, however, had only accepted through politeness, because the affair of the day had sadly depressed him.

After the game had progressed for a time, Maugis had made some wretched mismoves that attracted the attention of those about.

Ganelon, who stood behind the prince, leaned forward and whispered in his ear: “In good faith, my prince, thy guest doth seem to ill requite thy courtesy, for while his hand is on the board his mind seems to be elsewhere, and for him evidently thou dost not exist.”

A frown covered the brow of the prince, but he made no reply. At this very moment Maugis made a woefully unpardonable and foolish move, and a subdued titter ran around among the courtiers who stood about. That was too much for the prince.

“How now, sir!” he exclaimed hotly, “thou art either an idiot or thou doth seek to insult me.”

“I crave thy pardon,” replied Maugis, “I made the move while my thoughts did wander and I assure thee I intended thee no discourtesy.”

“Seest thou not his mood?” hissed Ganelon in the ear of Berthelot. “He is angered by the reproach of the emperor. Gads! he is in a temper to insult the saints.” This had its effect.

“Sir Maugis!” cried Berthelot in anger, “thou tellest me in one breath thou intendest no discourtesy and in the next breath thou dost insult me by saying thy thoughts wandered, to suffer which is enough an insult.”

“I pray thee pause in thy condemnation, my prince, and accept my assurances,” said Maugis with great patience.

“Accept thy assurances forsooth!” exclaimed the now thoroughly angry prince. “Get thee back to thy northern provinces and teach thyself good manners before thou comest to court again.”

At this direct insult, Maugis, who had been able to contain himself the entire day with some success, arose from the table, sweeping the chessmen to the floor.

The now infuriated Berthelot then reached out and gave Maugis a resounding slap in the face.

This was enough. Maugis seized the heavy chessboard, which was of gold, and hurled it at the head of the prince with such force that the nephew of Charlemagne sank expiring to the floor.

In an instant, repenting of what he had done, Maugis sprang forward and tenderly supported the dying man, who said: “Thou hast done for me, Maugis. I was the one on whom blame should rest—let it be known,” and with these words he fell back dead.

These events were followed by the entry of Charlemagne, who, hearing the loud voices and the noise, had hastened to learn the cause. He understood instantly.

“What, ho! the guard!” he thundered, and then gave orders to prevent the escape of the four sons of Aymon that he might wreak the most bitter vengeance upon them.

The three brothers of Maugis, aided by Gerard and Nanteuil, who also wished to escape, had meanwhile fought their way to the main door, but Maugis, who had lingered too long over the body of Berthelot, found himself faced by a line of gleaming swords in the hands of the courtiers. His escape by that means was impossible, besides he was unarmed.

Quickly seizing a heavy stool he smote down two courtiers who would oppose him, ran to the exit leading to the empress’ apartments, laying low the soldier who guarded that entrance, and fled down the corridor. Without, as he fled, he could hear the beating of drums arousing the guard and the hoarse commands of the officers. Ahead he could hear the clang of mailed feet in the corridor approaching him, and behind came his pursuers from the audience-chamber. He was in a desperate situation.

Suddenly a door opened in the corridor beside him, a white arm protruded and seized his doublet, and almost before he knew he stood behind the locked door of a chamber in the presence of the Princess Yolande, who, pale as a lily, was leaning half-fainting against the hangings nearby, while outside the pursuers, not perceiving him, thundered past down the corridor.

“Princess,” he exclaimed, “you have saved me, and my life is yours.”

“No! no!” she gasped, pointing to the window. “They will soon return. Go! go! spring through, that leads to the moat, swim that and you are safe.”

Reverently kissing her hand, Maugis jumped to the window and leaped out into the water below, just as heavy knocks shook the chamber door—the palace was being searched for him. As he gained the other side in safety he turned, and throwing a kiss to her as she stood in the window, he disappeared down a narrow street nearby.

In the meantime his three brothers, with Gerard and Nanteuil, had fought their way, sword in hand, from the palace, where they were joined by Maugis, and the little company, well-nigh exhausted, lost no time in taking the route for the Château d’Aymon, in the province of Ardennes, northern France.

Charlemagne, furious at their escape, ordered every knight he could find to mount and go in pursuit, sword in hand.

Meanwhile, the fugitives, of whom Maugis was the only one who had no horse, soon perceived there was no possible chance to escape their pursuers. The only thing to be done was to await their coming and face them with firmness.

Fired by the ambition to be the first to capture Maugis and his companions, each knight of that imperial company pressed his horse to the utmost. A single knight, the most prompt, at last presented himself before Maugis, who stood defiantly in the center of the road facing the oncomers.

The moment of his approach, Maugis, giving him no time for preparation for defense, ran him through with his sword. A second knight in the meantime had come up only to be laid low with a stroke of his sword. The main body was fast approaching, and finally a third knight, outstripping the rest, approached, and becoming enraged at the sight of the fate that had befallen his companions, hurled insulting epithets at Maugis, who in turn, enraged, cast his lance at his enemy from the distance of twenty paces with such unerring force and accuracy as to lay him on the ground transfixed. This is how the third brother secured a horse in that memorable fight.

Perceiving it would be useless to engage the numbers now coming upon them, Maugis mounted upon the crupper of his horse, Bayard, behind Renaud, and then they fled before their enemies, who were astounded at their courage and activity.

They, however, continued the pursuit, but without result, and the falling of night favored the fugitives in their escape from the soldiers of Charlemagne. Thus, happily escaping, they proceeded on their homeward journey with all the haste their horses could bear them.

The duchess received them and listened with sorrow to an account of the danger which had encompassed them, and after allowing time for a sufficient rest, she gave them some gold, advising them to leave as soon as possible, for the good reason that their father, bound by his oath of fidelity to Charlemagne, would be obliged to give them up, if it should be demanded by the emperor.

Maugis accepted the advice of his mother. During the night he, followed by his brothers, quietly left the château and disappeared in the forests of the Ardennes, arriving after a time at the banks of the river Meuse. They on the following day carefully examined the country round about in order to find a favorable place in which to establish works of defense, for they knew that Charlemagne would not rest content until he had wreaked dire vengeance upon them, and that it would not be long before their location would become known to him. They therefore sought some inaccessible place of defense, and having made a selection they proceeded to fortify it with all possible activity. They builded a château fortress in a high and impregnable position, upon the summit of a rock, and when complete, called it the “Château de Montfort.” The river Meuse ran around the foot of the rock, forming a natural moat, and rendering the place unassailable.

During this time, while the four sons of Aymon were thus preparing themselves to escape the rage of Charlemagne, he, without caring for the sorrow of their father, the Duke d’Aymon, for the crime his son had committed, ordered the duke arrested; but when the duke condemned his sons and expressed a willingness to make a new oath of fidelity, agreeing to preserve a strict neutrality in the conflict between the king and his sons, Charlemagne, who recognized he could get nothing from him, sent him to his home, when upon his arrival the duchess informed him that his sons were safe.

He also learned with pleasure of the strong position they had secured to escape the rage of the emperor, but to baffle the suspicions of Charlemagne, and to prevent himself from knowing what was passing, he returned to the court under pretense that he wished to be near the emperor that he might not be held responsible for the action of his sons.