CHAPTER VI.
TO THE FASTNESS OF ALLANGE.
The sight that excited the wrath of the holy man filled the hearts ofthe Vagres with joy. It was broad day. Four large wagons of the villa,each hitched to teams of oxen, were slowly rolling away from thesmoldering ruins of the late episcopal mansion. The wagons were loadedwith all manner of booty: gold and silver vases, curtains and beddings,feather mattresses and bags of wheat, boxes filled with linen, hams,venison, smoked fish, preserved fruits, and all sorts of eatables, heavyrolls of cloth that had been woven by weaver-slaves, soft cushions, warmcoverlets, shoes, cloaks, iron pots, copper basins, tin cans--all ofthem dear to the heart of a housekeeper. The Vagres followed the train,singing like larks at the rise of the beautiful June sun. On the frontwagon, and seated on one of the cushions, little Odille--whom thebishopess in loving tenderness thoughtfully clad in one of her ownbeautiful, although rather too long robes for the child--no longertimorous but still laboring under the effect of her wonderment, openedher beautiful blue eyes, and, for the first time since many a long day,breathed in freedom the fresh and invigorating morning air that remindedher often of that of her own mountains from which she was torn, poorchild, and cast into the burg of the count. Ever and anon Ronanapproached the wagon:
"Take courage, Odille; you will get accustomed to us. The Vagres are notas wolfish as evil tongues pretend."
On another wagon, gorgeous in her gold necklaces and her most beautifuldress which her loving Vagre saved for her from the conflagration, thebishopess whiled away the time, either combed her long black hair withthe aid of a little pocket mirror, or adjusted her scarf, or hoppedabout, crazy with joy, like a hen-linnet that had escaped from her cage.At last she enjoyed that day of freedom and love that she had soardently dreamed about after having lived more than ten years almost aprisoner. The morning journey across the beautiful mountains ofAuvergne, where at frequent intervals cascades of bubbling water wereencountered, seemed to charm her. She chatted, laughed, sang, sangagain, and threw sidelong glances at her Vagre every time that, with hislight step and triumphant mien, he passed by her wagon. Suddenly, as hereyes happened to fall upon a distant object, she seemed moved with pity.She seized a straw-covered amphora that the Master of the Hounds hadthoughtfully placed within her reach, and turning towards the rear ofthe car, where several women and girls, the bishop's slaves, havinggladly resolved to run the Vagrery together with their quondam mistress,were huddled, she said to one of them:
"Carry this bottle of spiced wine to my brother, the bishop; the poorman loves to take what he calls his morning cup; but do not let him knowthat I sent you."
The young girl to whom the bishopess gave the flask answered with a nodof intelligence, leaped down from the cart, and looked for Cautin. Mostof the ecclesiastical slaves fled into the mountains when the bishop'shouse was set on fire; they feared the wrath of heaven if they joinedthe Vagres; the others, however, being of a less timorous turn,resolutely accompanied the troop of the lusty men. They should have beenseen--alert, frisk as if they had just risen from a restful night spentunder the foliage of the wood, they marched with elastic step, despitethe orgy of the previous night, and went and came, and skipped andchatted, and exchanged kisses with the women who were willing or withthe pouches of wine that they carried along, and bit lustily into thehams, the chunks of venison and the episcopal cakes.
"How good it is to live a Vagre's life!"
On the last wagon, under the special watch of Wolf's-Tooth and a fewcompanions who brought up the rear, Cautin, bishop and Vagre's cook,accustomed to strut on his traveling mule, or to ride through the foreston his vigorous hunting steed, found the road rough, dusty andunpleasant. He perspired, panted, tossed himself about, moaned,grumbled, grunted under the weight of his heavy paunch and invoked tohis aid all the saints of paradise.
"Seigneur bishop," said the young girl whom the bishopess charged withthe amphora of wine, "here is some good spiced wine; drink it; it willgive you strength to support the fatigue of the journey."
"Give it to me! Give it to me, my daughter! God will reward you for yourattachment to your father in Christ, who finds himself obliged to drinkby stealth the wine of his own cellar--"
And clapping the amphora to his lips, he drained it at one draught. Whenthe flask was empty he dashed it against the floor, and looking at theyoung girl cried:
"And so you propose to run the Vagrery, little she-devil, confoundedwench?"
"Yes, seigneur bishop; I am now twenty years of age, and this is thefirst day of my life that I have been able to say: 'I belong tomyself--I can go and come, jump, sing, dance, just as I please'--"
"You belong to yourself, do you, brazen minx? You belong to me! But withthe aid of God you will yet be re-captured either by the Church, or bysome Frankish seigneur--and I hope you may fall into even worse slavery,God-forsaken wench!"
"I will then, at least, have tasted freedom--"
And the young woman dashed off, jumping and singing, in pursuit of abutterfly that fluttered in the bush.
The troop of Vagres arrived at the hovels of some slaves that belongedto the domain of the Church, and that lay scattered along the road.Little wan, sickly looking children, absolutely bare by reason of theirparents' pinching poverty, were wallowing in the dust. Their fatherswere off on the fields since dawn; their mothers, as wan-looking andthin as the children, sat at the entrance of their hovels upon bunchesof decaying straw; they were clad in rags and busily plied theirdistaffs for the benefit of the bishop; their long and unkempt hairtumbled over their foreheads upon their bony shoulders; their eyes werehollow, their cheeks sunburnt and sunken; the aspect that they presentedwas at once so repulsive and painful that the hermit-laborer could notrefrain from pointing them out to the bishop, saying:
"Look at those unhappy creatures!"
"Resignation, misery and sorrow here below, everlasting rewardabove--otherwise as everlasting and frightful tortures!" cried Cautin."The Church so decrees; it is the law of God!"
"Blasphemer! Your words are like those of the impostor physicians whopretend that man was born for fevers, the pest and ulcers, and not forhealth!"
At the sight of the approaching and well-armed troop, the women andchildren were first afraid and ran to hide in their hovels; but steppingforward, Ronan called out to them:
"Poor women! Poor children! Be not afraid--we are your good friends theVagres!"
The Vagrery caused the Franks and the bishops to tremble, but it wasoften blessed by the poor. Women and children, all of whom had at firstfled with fear into their hovels, now emerged again, and one of themothers said to Ronan:
"Do you want to know the road? I shall show it to you."
"Are you running away from the leudes of the seigneurs?" said another."None has passed this way; you can march on in safety."
"Women," answered Ronan, "your children are naked, you and your husbandstoil from dawn to dusk; you are barely covered in rags; you lie down tosleep upon poorer straw than the swine; you live upon decayed beans;often you munch grass like cattle!"
"Alas! It is the truth! Our lives are wretched, indeed!"
"Here we have for you linen, cloth, dresses, covers, mattresses, bags ofgrain, full pouches, provisions of all sorts. Give, my Vagres! Give,Odille, to these poor people! Give, bishopess of the Vagrery! Give andgive again!"
"Take--take, sisters!" said the bishopess with eyes moist withcompassionate tears, as she helped the Vagres to distribute the bootytaken at her house. "Take, sisters! Yesterday I was a slave asyourselves, to-day I am free! Take, sisters!"
"Take and make merry, dear women; and may your little ones never be tornfrom you!" said Odille as she also gave a hand in the distribution ofthe booty. And she wiped her eyes as she exclaimed: "How good Ronan, theVagre, is to the poor!"
"Blessings upon you!" cried the poor mothers, weeping for joy. "It isbetter to meet a Vagre than a count or a bishop."
It was a pleasure to see with what ardor the Vagres, perched upon
thecarts, distributed what they had taken from the wicked bishop; it was apleasure to see how the poor mothers' faces brightened with happiness atthe unlooked-for alms. Amazed and enraptured they contemplated the heapof all manner of articles that they had never yet made acquaintancewith. The children, more impatient than their elders, merrily hitchedthemselves by twos, threes and fours to a mattress in order to transportit into one of the huts, or they put their thin arms around a bundle oflinen and sought to lift it in. Suddenly, however, a wrathful andthreatening voice, a veritable mar-plot, froze the marrow of the poorfolks with terror.
"Woe unto you! Damnation upon your families! if you dare to touch withsacrilegious hands the goods of the Church! Tremble! Tremble! It is amortal sin! You, your husbands, your children, you will all be throwninto the flames of hell for all time!"
It was Bishop Cautin. Despite the remonstrances of the hermit-laborer,he dashed in among the startled slaves, and fulminated his anathemas.
"Oh! We shall touch nothing of all that is offered us, holy bishop!"answered the mothers with a shudder. "We shall not touch any of thegoods of the Church."
"My Vagres!" cried Ronan, "Hang the bishop on the nearest tree! We shallnot lack for a cook."
Already they were seizing the holy man, who now grew paler and trembledin greater terror than the most awe-struck of the mothers who had justbeen running over with joy, when the monk again interposed to saveCautin from the noose.
"The hermit!" cried the mothers and their children. "Thehermit-laborer!"
"Blessed be you, the friend of the sorrowful!--"
"Blessed be you, the friend of little children!--"
And the hands of all the little ones took hold of the robe of thehermit, who said in his sweet and clear voice:
"Dear women, dear little ones; take what is given you; take withoutfear; Jesus said: 'Woe unto the rich who share not their bread withthose who hunger, and their cloak with those who are cold.' Your bishopgives you all these good things. Take all that is offered to you!"
"Blessings upon you, holy bishop!" exclaimed the mothers, raising theirarms in thankfulness to Cautin. "Blessed be you, good father, for yourgenerous gifts!"
"I give nothing!" cried Cautin. "You shall burn eternally in hell, ifyou listen to that apostate hermit!"
The larger number of the women looked undecided from Ronan to thebishop and the hermit. They put their hands forward and withdrew themagain from the articles that were offered them. But two of the oldest ofthem resolutely drew away from the goods of the Church, and throwingthemselves down upon their knees murmured affrighted:
"Holy Bishop Cautin! Pardon us for having even for a moment harbored thethought of committing so great a crime. Mercy! Mercy!"
"Fear not, my sisters!" resumed the hermit. "Your bishop gives you allthese good things. He knows that the Lord has equal love for all hischildren, and does not wish that some should be naked and freeze, whileothers perspire under the useless weight of twenty gowns; that someshould suffer hunger, while others are filled to repletion. Fear notthat your bishop will either hunger or suffer cold; he has new and warmclothing on; he knows not what to do with so many robes; he can notdrink all those pouches of wine; he can not eat up all these provisions!Take, take--the goods of a bishop are the property of the poor."
Most of the unhappy mothers, convinced by the words of the hermit, andalso driven by the lash of their needs, began busily to transport theproffered goods of the Church into their huts, aided by their children.Only three elderly ones dared not to join; they remained on their kneesand smote their breasts.
"Dear daughters in Christ! Persevere in your holy horror for sacrilege!"the bishop cried to the three kneeling women. "You will enter paradiseand will hear the seraphim play on the harp before the Lord, while theysing His praises!"
"My Vagres!" again Ronan called out. "A rope! Let the hypocriticalbabbler be strung up high and dry! It is evident that he has made up hismind to hang!"
With a gesture the hermit arrested the anger of the Vagres and said:
"Bishop, do you recognize the words of Jesus of Nazareth as divine? 'Himthat taketh away thy cloak forbid not to take away thy coat also.' Whatthought did Jesus mean to convey by these words, but that only too oftentheft has want for its cause, and that charity should be exercised andpity had for such want. Relinquish voluntarily these superfluous goods,you who have taken the vow of poverty, charity and chastity!"
"Keep still, tempting hermit, who dare contradict our bishop! We may notlay our fingers on the goods of the Church!" cried one of the threekneeling women. "We would be damned for all time!"
"Yes, yes," shouted the other two. "Keep still, hermit!"
"Poor creatures! Steeped in ignorance and blindness!" exclaimed Ronan."Do you care for the life of your bishop?"
"We would undergo a thousand deaths for his sake!"
"Oh! Pious women!" cried Cautin ecstatically. "What a superb part ofparadise will not be yours! And now, until the day of eternal life come,I give you absolution for all your past sins, and all the future onesthat you may commit."
"Oh, beloved bishop!" cried the kneeling mothers smiting their chests."A saint among saints! Thanks--thanks to you!"
"Listen to me, ye poor sheep who mistake the butcher for the shepherd,"said Ronan to them. "If you do not forthwith profit by our offer, weshall hang the bishop before your very eyes."
"Here is a rope," said Wolf's-Tooth, and he put the noose aroundCautin's neck.
"Dear daughters, take everything!" cried the prelate acting under a newinspiration. "Your father in Christ requests you, adjures you, ordersyou to accept the booty--accept it quick!" he added as he felt the noosetighten.
One of the three kneeling women rose and obeyed with alacrity; the othertwo remained on their knees and said:
"You are only trying us, holy bishop!"
"But these heathens are going to hang me--"
"A holy man like you does not fear martyrdom."
"No, my daughters, I do not fear martyrdom--but I think I amindispensable for the salvation of my flock. I pray you, carry thatbooty away! If you do not, I shall damn you! I shall excommunicate you!Confounded old hags! Miserable wretches, you will have to answer for mydeath on the day of judgment!"
"Holy bishop, you seek to try us to the last. You just said to us thatto touch the goods of the Church is mortal sin. Would you order us tocommit a mortal sin?"
"No! No!" screamed the other of the two mothers who had remained ontheir knees; she smote her breast and added: "Holy man, you could neverthink of ordering us to commit mortal sin! You are to receivemartyrdom!--"
"And from the heavens above you will throw your blessings upon us, greatand good St. Cautin!"
"Bishop, do you hear these poor old women? You sowed, now you areharvesting. Come, my Vagres, draw the rope!"
Once more the hermit interposed in order to protect the prelate. At thatmoment the Vagres who were on the carts were heard crying:
"The leudes! The Frankish warriors!"
"There are seven of them! They are on horseback! They are leading a gangof chained men! Up, my Vagres! Death to the leudes! Freedom to theslaves!"
"Death to the leudes! Freedom to the slaves!" shouted the Vagres and ranto their arms.
"The Franks have come to capture me and take me back to the burg of thecount!" cried little Odille. "Oh, Ronan, protect me!"
"There will not be one of them left alive to carry you back!"
"Ronan, no imprudence!" said the hermit. "These horsemen may be only ascouting party riding ahead of a numerous troop. Send out scoutersagainst scouters; keep the bulk of your men in reserve and have thementrench themselves behind the wagons."
"Monk, you are right. You talk like an experienced soldier. You musthave made war?"
"A little--occasionally--whenever it was necessary to protect the weakagainst the strong."
"Frankish warriors!" cried Cautin clasping his hands with a triumphantair. "Friends! Allies! I am saved! Help, dear brothers in
Christ! Thisway, my beloved sons in God! Fall upon this rabble. Deliver me from thehands of the Philistines! This way, my--"
Giving a jerk to the rope around the neck of the holy man, Ronansuddenly checked his flow of speech by drawing the noose tight.
"Bishop, no useless cries!" said the hermit; "and you, Ronan, noviolence; drop that rope!"
"Very well; but I shall bind his arms; and if he again breaks in upon myears I shall run my sword through him--"
"The Frankish riders have reined in their horses the moment they caughtsight of the wagons," cried one of the Vagres; "they seem to bedeliberating what to do."
"Our deliberation will not be long. There are seven of the mountedFranks; let six Vagres follow me, and by the faith of Ronan, it will notbe long before there will be seven conquerors less in Gaul!"
"Here are the six of us--let us forward!"
The Master of the Hounds was among the six Vagres. Seeing him examinethe handle of his axe, the bishopess leaped down from her wagon, and,her eyes sparkling, her nostrils inflated and her cheeks on fire, sherolled up the right sleeve of her silk robe, and thus baring her white,beautiful and strong arm up to the shoulder, she cried:
"Give me a sword! A sword!"
"Here is one! What will you do with it, beautiful bishopess in Vagrery?"
"I shall fight beside my Vagre!" Saying this the bishopess seized theproffered weapon like a Gallic woman of ancient days, and dashed forwardupon the foe.
"Little Odille, you wait here for me. When the Franks are slain I shallreturn to you," said Ronan to the young girl, who, pale with fear,sought to hold him back with both hands and rested upon him herbeautiful blue eyes now moist with tears. "Do not tremble, poor child!"
"Ronan," she murmured convulsively seizing the arm of the Vagre, "I haveneither father nor mother left; you delivered me from the count and thebishop; you have a good heart; you are full of pity for the poor; youhave treated me with the tenderness of a brother; it was only last nightthat I saw you for the first time, and yet it seems to me that I haveknown you long, long--"
And the girl took both the Vagre's hands, kissed them, and added withtremulous lips:
"If those Franks should kill you!--"
"If they should kill me, little Odille?"
Saying this the Vagre turned his head towards the hermit, and pointingto him with his eyes added:
"Should the Franks kill me, yonder good hermit-laborer will protectyou."
"I promise you, my child, should misfortune befall your friend, I shallprotect you."
"Little Odille," Ronan now said with almost embarrassed mien, "one kisson your forehead--it will be first, and may be the last."
The child was weeping silently; she reached her girlish forehead toRonan; he touched it with his lips, and raising his sword dashed off ona run. Hardly had Ronan left when the cry of the Vagres was heardattacking the leudes. At the cries, Odille threw herself distractedinto the arms of the hermit, hid her face on his breast and sobbedaloud:
"They will kill him! They will kill him!"
"Courage, Franks! Courage, my sons in God!" shouted Cautin from thecart-wheel to which he was bound fast. "Exterminate those Moabites!Above all cut to pieces that she-devil wife of mine, that brazen womanwith the orange dress with the blue sash and silver embroideredstockings. No mercy for the Jezebel! the shameless wench! the slattern!Hack her to pieces!--"
"Bishop! Bishop! Your words are inhuman. Remember the mercifulness ofJesus towards Magdalen and the adulteress!" exclaimed the hermit, whileOdille, with her head resting on the breast of that true disciple of theyoung man of Nazareth murmured:
"They will kill Ronan! They will kill him!"
"Here I am back to you, little Odille! The Franks did not kill me. Thepeople whom they brought in chains are all set free!"
Who said this? It was Ronan. What? Back so soon? Yes! The Vagres dotheir work quickly. With one bound Odille was in the arms of her friend.
"I killed one of them--he was just about to run my Vagre through withhis sword!" cried the bishopess returning from the encounter. Andthrowing down her blood-stained sword, her eyes sparkling, her bosomhalf covered by her long black tresses that, together with her robe,were thrown into disorder by the heat of the combat, she said to theMaster of the Hounds: "Are you satisfied with your wife?"
"Strong in the embrace of love, and strong in battle are your arms!"answered the young man delighted. "And now, a full cup of wine!"
"To drink in my very face wine that was mine! To court and caress beforemy own eyes that impure woman who was my wife!" murmured the bishop."Oh, monstrous! These are the signs that foretell frightful calamitiesabout to afflict the earth."
Three of the Vagres were wounded. The hermit attended them with so muchskill that he might have been taken for a physician. He was about toproceed to another of the wounded men when his eyes fell upon the peoplewhom the leudes had brought with them and who were now set free by themen of Ronan. These unhappy folks who only a few minutes before wereprisoners, were covered with rags; nevertheless the joy of deliveranceshone upon their faces. Invited by their liberators to eat and drink inorder to recruit their strength, they were eagerly acquitting themselvesof their task. While they drained the pouches of wine and caused theloaves of bread and the hams to vanish, the monk said to one of them, arobust man despite his grey hair:
"Brother, who are you? Whence do you come?"
"We are colonists and slaves. We formerly owned and cultivated theparcels of land that the son of Clovis newly joined as benefices to thesalic and military domains that the Frankish count Neroweg previouslyheld from his father by the right of conquest."
"Did the count, accordingly, strip you of your fields and houses?"
"Would to heaven, dear hermit, that he had done so!"
"Your answer is strange!"
"The count, on the contrary, left the fields to us, and he even addedtwo hundred acres to them, the accursed man! The two hundred acresbelonged to my friend and neighbor Fereol, who fled out of fear for theFranks."
"Your property is doubled, friend, and yet you complain!"
"Indeed I complain! Is it that you do not know what is going on in Gaul?This is what the count said to me: 'My glorious King has made me countof this country, and, besides, he has given me as a benefice, which Ihope will become hereditary as my military lands, all these domains,including the cattle, houses and people upon them. You will cultivatefor me the fields that belong to you; I shall join several new parcelsto them; you will be my colonist and your laborers my slaves; all of youwill work for me and my leudes; you will furnish them as well as myselfwith all that we shall need. You shall help my mason and carpenterslaves in the building of a new burg that I shall have erected after theGermanic fashion. It is to be large, commodious and properly fortified,and it is to be located in the center of an old Roman camp that Idiscovered nearby. Your horses and cattle having become mine will haulthe stones and logs of wood that are too heavy for men to carry. Besidesthat you shall pay me a hundred gold sous annually, ten of which I shallgive to the King when I annually render him homage for the lands that Ihold.' 'A hundred gold sous!' I cried. 'My lands, jointly with those ofmy neighbor Fereol, will not yield such a sum year in and year out! Howdo you expect me to pay you a hundred gold sous, besides feeding you,your leudes and your retinues, and keeping myself, my family and mylaborers, now your slaves, alive?' Threatening me with his club, thecount answered me saying: 'I shall have my hundred gold sous everyyear--if you fail, I shall have my leudes cut off your feet andhands--'"
"Poor man!" observed the hermit sadly. "And like so many others youconsented to the servitude? You accepted the hard conditions?"
"What else was I to do? How could I resist the count and his leudes? Ionly had a few laborers, and to them the priests preached submission tothe conquerors, who, sword in hand, say to us: 'The fields of yourfathers, fructified by their labors and yours, are now ours--you shallcultivate them for us.' What were we to do? Resist? It was impos
sible!Flee? That would be to rush into slavery in some other region, seeingthat all the provinces are equally invaded by the Franks. I had a youngwife--both servitude and a wandering life frightened me more for hersake than for mine--moreover, I was attached to the region and thefields on which I was born. The thought was unbearable to me of havingto cultivate those very fields for another, and yet I preferred not toleave them. Myself and my laborers resigned ourselves to shockingmisery, to incessant toil! Such was the life we led for many a year. Bydint of hard work and privations I succeeded in supplying the wants ofNeroweg and his leudes, and of making my lands yield from seventy toeighty gold sous a year. Twice did the count put me to the torture inorder to force me to give him the hundred gold sous that he demanded ofme. I did not own one denier outside of the moneys that I paid him. Mytorture and subsequent long physical pain was all the comfort that hehad for his cruelty."
"And did the thought never occur to you," asked Ronan, "of choosing somefine dark night to set the burg on fire?"
"Alas! The priests persuade the slaves that the harder their lot is onearth, all the happier will they be in paradise. I could not rely uponmy companions in slavery, besotted as they were with the fear of thedevil and unnerved by misery. Besides, I had little children; and theirmother, consumed with grief, was ailing; finally, this year, the poorcreature fortunately died. My sons had grown up to be men, and they andI, together with a few other slaves who were all tired of unrequited andcontinuous toil for the benefit of the count and his leudes, finallytook to flight. We took refuge on the domain of the Bishop of Issoire.It was but an exchange of masters, still we hoped to find the prelate aless cruel master than the count. The count was set upon recapturing mewho had managed for so many years to extract from my lands so muchwealth for him and his leudes. Having learned of our asylum, he orderedsome of his leudes to take horse and reclaim us from the Bishop ofIssoire. The bishop surrendered us. His men bound our hands, and theleudes were taking us back to the count when these good Vagres killedour captors and set us free. By my faith! Vagres we shall now be--all ofus--I, my sons and the other slaves whom you see yonder. Will you haveus, ye bold runners of the night?"
"Yes, yes!" cried the companions of the colonist. "It is better far torun the Vagrery than to cultivate our fathers' lands under the club of acount and his leudes!"
"Bishop! Bishop!" remarked Ronan to the prelate. "Behold what yourallies have turned our old Gaul into! But, I swear by torch and fire, byblood and massacre, I swear, the hour shall come when neither prelatesnor seigneurs will have aught but smoldering ruins and bleaching bonesto rule over! Up! new brothers in Vagrery! Be like ourselves 'Wand'ringmen,' 'Wolves,' 'Wolves-Heads!' Like ourselves you will live like wolvesand happy--in summer under the leafy green, in winter in caverns warm.Up, my Vagres! Up! The sun is high! We have in these carts still muchbooty left to be distributed on our way. Let us proceed, little Odilleand beautiful bishopess! Let us pillage the seigneurs, and give freelyto the poor! Let us keep only just enough to feast upon to-night in thefastness of Allange under the dome of the stately old oak trees. On themarch! And to-morrow, when the last pouch will have been emptied, thenon the hunt again, my Vagres, so long as there shall be a single burgleft standing in Gaul, or a single episcopal residence! Let us burn downall the dens of tyranny! Death to the seigneurs and their bishops!"
And the troop resumed its march to the sound of the Vagres' song. When,at sunset, they arrived at the fastness of Allange, which was one oftheir haunts, all the booty that was taken at the episcopal villa hadbeen distributed along the route among the poor. Only a few mattressesfor the women, the gold and silver goblets out of which to drink thebishop's wine, and the necessary provisions for the night's festivalwere left. The eight teams of oxen were to furnish the roast for thegigantic feast, because gigantic it was to be seeing that the troop ofVagres had gathered many recruits on the route--slaves, artisans,laborers and colonists, all of whom were enraged with misery, withoutcounting a number of young women, all of whom were eager to run theVagrery.