CHAPTER V.
LOYSIK AND BRUNHILD.
Astonished at the oddity of the appearance and conduct of the old monk,Brunhild and Warnachaire now followed him with their eyes, now looked ateach other in silence during the short instants that Loysik recognizedand contemplated the image of Victoria. More and more convinced that themonk was out of his mind, the Queen lost all patience, stamped with herfoot on the floor and cried:
"Duke, call in my pages; let them drive out of this room with theirswitches this crazy man who pretends to be the abbot of the monastery ofCharolles, and who kneels before my antique medals."
Brunhild was still issuing these orders when one of the pages entered bythe door that connected with the large hall, and bending a knee said toher:
"Glorious Queen, a messenger has just arrived from the army; he bringspressing despatches for seigneur Warnachaire."
"That is of greater importance, duke. Receive the messenger and returnquickly to inform me of the tidings that he brings;" and then,addressing the page and pointing to Loysik, who, with head erect andfirm steps was now advancing toward her, she proceeded: "Fetch in someof your assistants and drive out that dotard with your switches; theloss of his senses saves him from a more severe punishment." Sayingthis, the Queen rose from her seat, and stepping towards her bedchamber,once more urged the mayor of the palace: "Warnachaire, return as soon aspossible and let me know what tidings the messenger bears. You will readme the despatches."
"I shall go, madam, and receive him instantly. But what of this crazyman? What is to be done with him?"
"Leave that to my pages!"
The mayor of the palace withdrew. Through the door, left open by him,and without stepping out of the apartment, the page called out toseveral of his companions who stood in waiting in the contiguous hall.Loysik, on his part, seeing that, without taking any more notice of himthan of an insane man, the Queen was returning to her bedchamber, rantowards Brunhild, and holding before her a parchment scroll that he drewfrom his robe, said to her in a firm and collected voice:
"I am not crazy. This charter signed by the late King Clotaire willprove to you that I am the superior of the monastery of Charolles, whereyour chamberlain and his soldiers are, at this hour, retained prisonersby my orders."
"Loysik!" exclaimed one of the young pages who entered the apartment inresponse to the call of their companion. "Brother Loysik here?"
"What! This monk!" cried Brunhild stupefied. "Is he Loysik, the abbot ofthe monastery of Charolles?"
"Yes, glorious Queen. He is the venerable abbot."
"How come you to know him?"
"He was pointed out to me at the last slave market. The worthy abbot wasbuying slaves to set them free. I saw him again this morning crossingone of the courtyards of the palace in the company of Samuel and twoyoung girls."
For a moment Brunhild remained thoughtful, and then ordering the otherpages out of the chamber with a wafture of her hand she addressed theone who had first come in.
"Go to Pog and tell him to get himself and his assistants ready in thecave. Let him light his fires and wait for further orders."
The page grew pale and bowed, but before leaving the chamber he cast alook of pity upon the old man. Left alone with Loysik, the Queen pacedthe room for a minute in silence and with agitated steps, and thenturning abruptly upon the hermit laborer said to him in a short, sharpvoice:
"So you are Loysik?"
"I am Loysik, the abbot and superior of the monastery of Charolles."
"How did you penetrate into this room?"
"This morning I met near the castle a slave merchant named Samuel; I hadrecently bought several slaves from him; he informed me that he wascoming here; knowing that it was difficult to obtain access to thepalace, I asked Samuel to allow me to accompany him; at first hehesitated; two gold pieces put an end to his hesitation."
"And as the gateman had received orders to admit Samuel and his slaves,you passed along with his merchandise! And did you remain in the roombelow while the Jew was showing me the two slave girls?"
Loysik nodded his head in the affirmative.
"And after Samuel left the palace?"
"The Jew having informed me that this room was reached from below by thespiral staircase, I came up a short time ago and concealed myself behindthe curtain; I was a witness of your conversation with one of yourwomen. I heard everything."
Brunhild looked at the monk with a questioning and threatening mien:
"And so you overheard everything that was said between us?"
"Yes; I listened and heard everything."
"Old man--do you know who Pog and his assistants are?"
"The executioner and his men."
"How old are you?"
"The age of a man about to die."
"You expect death?"
Loysik shrugged his shoulders without answering.
"You are right," proceeded Brunhild with a satanic smile. "To bringsuch tidings as you did was to run into the jaws of death."
"I came here of my own free will; your chamberlain and his men remainprisoners at the monastery. No harm will be done them."
"You are mistaken. A terrible punishment awaits them! Infamy, cowardice,shame and treachery! An officer, Brunhild's men-at-arms made prisonersby a handful of monks! Pog and his men will have work to do."
"Your men-at-arms were not cowardly; even had they been more numerous,they could not have resisted the men of the monastery and the colonistsof the Valley of Charolles."
"Why, they must be redoubtable men!"
"Not that. But they are people who are determined to die free, to burythemselves under the ruins of their homes if you ignore the rightsguaranteed to them by the charter of the late King Clotaire."
"How dare you invoke such a charter in my presence! A charter of him whowas Fredegonde's father-in-law! A charter of the grandfather of ClotaireII, the son of Fredegonde and no less a mortal enemy of mine than hismother herself! You dare mention to me a charter signed by thegrandfather of a man whom I shall pursue into his grave! Insensate oldman! I would burn down the tree that lent its shade to Fredegonde's son!I would have the spring poisoned that quenched that man's thirst! Inyour instance, the question is not about inanimate objects, but of men,women and children who owe their freedom to the grandfather ofFredegonde's son. It is in my power to make their souls and bodies,their whole generation, writhe with pain! Oh, no later than to-morrowall the inhabitants of that accursed valley will be sent as slaves tothe savage tribes that have come from Germany. It will be but an advancepayment on the pillage that was promised them."
"Very well. You will send troops to the Valley. They will force theirway in, arms in hand; they will crush our inhabitants despite anyresistance that they may offer, and however heroic. Men, women andchildren will know how to die. After a stubborn fight, your soldierswill find upon their entrance into the Valley only corpses and ashes.But you seem to forget that war has been declared between you andFredegonde's son, that the moment is critical, and that you require allyour available forces in order to resist your enemies. Execrated by thepeople, execrated by the seigneurs, the leading ones of whom havealready joined the standard of Clotaire II, you are hardly certain ofthe loyalty of your own army, seeing that you have been obliged to callsavage tribes to your aid and to allure them with the prospect ofpillage. You seem to forget that, guided by an unerring instinct, andseeing the power of the mayors of the palaces on the ascendant, thepeople look upon these as the natural enemies of the Frankish Kings andare ready to revolt in support of the former. Despite the heroicresistance that they will offer, our people of the Valley will becrushed. I admit it. But do you imagine that the surroundingpopulations, however timid and cowed they may be, will remain impassivewhen they will see people of their own race slaughtered to the last manin the defense of their freedom? The horror of conquest, the hatred forslavery, the unbearable hardships of poverty have more than once drivenpeople steeped in deeper degradation than our own to serio
us andstubborn revolt. To-morrow, who knows! some frightful insurrection maybreak out against you, called into being by the voice of the grandeeswho abhor you."
"And are the seigneurs, perchance, not the enemies of your race as muchas the kings?"
"Yes; after their purpose is attained, after your ruin is accomplished,the seigneurs will crush the people just as you are doing now. After thefirst explosion of its rage is over, the unhappy people will resume itsold yoke with docility--because the time has not yet arrived for theirliberation! But what does that matter! Such a revolt at this time, inthe very heart of your kingdom, when your most implacable enemythreatens your frontiers, at an hour when treason surrounds you at everyturn--such a revolt would to-day mean your utter annihilation--it woulddeliver you and your kingdoms to your ferocious enemy, Fredegonde'sson!"
At the sound of that name Brunhild trembled with rage. With her headinclined and her eyes fixed upon the ground, the Queen seemed to listenwith increased attention to the words of Loysik, who continued withbitter disdain:
"Behold, then, that Queen, the audacity of whose policy has rendered herso famous! In order to cement her empire she has perpetrated crimes thatwill one day cause the veracity of history to be doubted. And she isabout to endanger her kingdom, aye, her very life, out of hatred for ahandful of inoffensive people! Did these people at all injure her? No;they were unknown to her until now; her attention was drawn to them bythe cupidity of a bishop who coveted their goods. Are the people whomshe wishes to drive to the heroism of despair, perchance, dangerousenemies to her? No; they only ask to be allowed to continue to live infreedom, peace and industry; if they can ever become dangerous it couldonly be by the example of their resistance--not unlikely, theirmartyrdom will provoke uprisings of which she herself will be the firstand leading victim. And yet this woman would rouse them to acts ofdespair! She meditates punishing them on the ground that their freedomis guaranteed by a king who has lain nearly half a century in his grave!Oh, vertigo of crime! With what joy would I not see this woman throwherself headlong into the abyss of her own digging were it not that herfeet must slide over the blood of my brothers!"
"Monk--it is an annoying circumstance that your age is that of a man whois about to die. I would have made you the councillor to whose words Iwould have given greatest weight. I shall follow your advice. Yourvalley shall be spared--for the present. You speak truly. At this hourwhen war threatens, when my grandees but await the opportune moment torebel against me--at such a time to drive the inhabitants of your valleyto despair, to martyrdom, would be an act of folly on my part."
Loysik promptly replied:
"My mission is accomplished; I demand of you no promises regarding themonastery and the inhabitants of the Valley of Charolles; your owninterests are my best guarantee. I would now request of you a sheet ofparchment for me to write to my brother--and to my monks--just a fewlines. You are free to read them--it is my farewell words to my family;I also wish to request my monks to set your chamberlain, the archdeacon,and their men-at-arms free. One of your own messengers may carry theletter."
"There is writing material on this table--you may sit down."
Loysik took a seat at the table and proceeded to write serenely.Nevertheless such was his joy at having carried the difficult matter toso successful an issue that his hand betrayed a slight tremor. Brunhildfollowed him attentive and somber:
"You tremble--you must be afraid, old man!"
"The gratification of having warded off so many evils from the heads ofmy brothers affects me and causes my hand to tremble. Here is theletter--read it."
Brunhild read, and said as she rolled up the parchment:
"These words of farewell are simple, they are dignified and touching. Iunderstand better and better the powerful influence that you exerciseover those people--they are the arms, you the head. Within shortly theywill be a headless and, therefore, lifeless body. After the war is overI shall find it easier to reduce them to obedience. Have you anything toask of me?"
"Nothing--except that you hasten my execution."
"I shall be magnanimous; your unshakable firmness pleases me; I shallspare you the torture and I shall leave to you the choice of death. Youmay choose between poison, iron, fire or water."
"Have my throat cut."
"It shall be as you wish, monk. Have you any other favor to ask?"
"Yes," said Loysik slowly stepping towards the ivory stand on which laythe case of medals, "I would like to take with me this bronze medal; Iwould like to keep it with me during the short time of life that is leftme. It will be sweet to me to die with my eyes fixed upon this gloriouseffigy."
"Let me see what medal that is--they are all mere antique curiosities.Truly, this woman is handsome, and proud under her Amazonian casque.What is the inscription here below? _Victoria, Emperor_. A woman anemperor?"
"The sovereign title was bestowed upon her after her death."
"She surely was of royal race?"
"She was of plebeian race."
"What was her life?"
"Simple--austere--illustrious! Her great soul was visible in herserenely grave features--an august countenance that this bronze haspreserved for posterity. Her life was that of a chaste wife--a sublimemother--a brave Gallic woman. She never left her modest home but tofollow her son to war, or to the camps. The soldiers worshipped her;they called her their mother. She brought up her son manfully in thelove for his country and set him the example of the loftiest virtues.Her ambition--"
"This austere woman was ambitious!"
"As much as a mother may be for her son. Her ambition was to render thatson a great citizen, the ardent desire of rendering him worthy of beingchosen chief of Gaul by the people and the army."
"Brought up by so incomparable a mother, was he elected?"
"Citizens and soldiers acclaimed him with one voice. By choosing himthey glorified Victoria--his stout-hearted preceptress. The brilliantqualities that they honored in him were her work. The son's electionconsecrated the sovereign influence of the mother--truly a sovereign inpoint of courage, genius and goodness. An era of glory and prosperitythen opened to the country. Emancipating herself from the yoke of Rome,Gaul, free and strong, drove the Franks far away from her borders andbegan to enjoy the blessings of peace. And thus it came about that, fromone end of our territory to the other there was one name everywhereidolized. That name--the first that the mothers taught their childrenafter that of God--that name, so popular, that name wreathed inveneration and devoted love, was the name of Victoria!"
"In short, this woman, this incomparable mother, this divinity, thisobject of veneration--reigned in her son's name!"
"Yes, as virtue reigns over the world! Invisible to the eyes, it is tothe heart that virtue reveals itself. As modest in her tastes as theobscurest matron in the land, Victoria fled from the glamor of honors.Living privately in a humble dwelling at Treves or Mayence, shedelighted in the glory of her son, and in the well-being of Gaul--butnot in order to reign as Queen--she despised royalty."
"And what was the cause of her haughty disdain for the great of theearth?"
"She held that the right which kings arrogated to themselves oftransmitting to their children the ownership of the country with itspeople, like a private domain with its cattle, was an outrage to themajesty of man and a crime before God. She furthermore held thathereditary rule depraves the best dispositions, and produces themonsters that have horrified the world. Faithful to her principles, sherefused to render the power hereditary in her grandson."
"She had a grandson?"
"Like you, Victoria was a grandmother."
And Loysik looked fixedly at the Queen. There was, in the manner inwhich Loysik accented the words addressed to Brunhild: _Like you,Victoria, was a grandmother_--there was in his tone so crushing anemphasis, so withering a condemnation of the shocking means employed bythe monster in order to deprave, enervate and morally kill her owngrandsons, whose lives she was nevertheless compelled to respect inorder that
she might reign in their name, that Brunhild turned lividwith rage, but controlling herself so as not to expose the woundinflicted upon her pride, dropped her eyes before the aged monk. Loysikproceeded:
"Victoria was a grandmother, and, while ruling Gaul with her genius shenever dropped her distaff, which she ever plied near the cradle of hergrandson; she watched over him as she had done over the child's father,with solicitous firmness; her hope was to render that child also a goodcitizen and brave soldier. Her hope was dashed. A frightful plot draggedinto their graves both the son and grandson of the august woman. Theyboth perished in a popular uprising."
"Ha! Ha!" cried Brunhild breaking forth into a burst of sardoniclaughter, as if her gathering hatred for the Gallic heroine wasassuaged. "Such, then, is the justice of God!"
"Such is the justice of God--the crime enabled Victoria to bequeath tothe admiration of posterity a noble example of patriotism andabnegation! After the death of her son and grandson, and being urgentlyrequested by the people, the army and the senate to governGaul--Victoria refused. Aye," added Loysik in answer to a gesture ofsurprise that escaped Brunhild, "aye, Victoria refused twice. Shedesignated the men whom she considered worthiest of being chosen chiefsof the country, and rendered to them the all-powerful support of her ownpopularity and the advice of her exceptional wisdom for the good of thecountry. Victoria continued to live modestly in her retreat, and so longas her life lasted, Gaul remained powerful and prosperous, rid both ofthe Romans and the Franks. Victoria died. Her death was the climax of aseries of crimes of which her son and grandson were the first victims.The illustrious woman died poisoned."
"Ha! Ha!" cried Brunhild breaking forth anew in a burst of sardoniclaughter. "Monk--monk--ever the justice of God!"
"Ever the justice of God--never was the death of the greatest geniusesthat ever shed splendor upon the world wept as the death of Victoria waswept! One would have thought it was the funeral of Gaul! In the largestcities, in the obscurest villages, tears flowed from all eyes.Everywhere these words were heard, broken with sobs: 'We have lost ourmother!' The soldiers, those rough warriors of the legions of the Rhine,whose faces a hundred battles had bronzed--those soldiers wept likechildren. The mourning was universal; imposing as death itself. AtMayence, where Victoria died, the spectacle of sorrow was sublime.Reclining upon an ivory couch draped in gold cloth, Victoria lay instate a week. Men, women, children, the army, the senate crowded thestreet of her house. Each came to contemplate for a last time in piousgrief the august features of her who was the dearest, the most admiredglory of Gaul--"
"Monk!" cried Brunhild seizing the arm of the venerable old man andseeking to drag him after her; "the executioners must be waiting--"
Loysik exerted only the force of inertia to resist the Queen; heremained motionless and continued in a calm and solemn voice:
"The mortal remains of Victoria the Great were placed upon the pyre anddisappeared in a flame, pure, brilliant and radiant as the life that shehad lived. Finally, in order to do honor to her virile genius across theages, the people of Gaul decreed to her the sovereign title that she hadever declined out of her sublime modesty. It is now more than fourcenturies ago since that bronze was cast in the effigy of _Victoria,Emperor_."
As he uttered these last words, Loysik took the medal in his hands.Brunhild, whose rage now reached a paroxysmal pitch, snatched the augustimage from the old monk's hands, dashed it on the floor, and trampledupon it in blind rage.
"Oh, Victoria! Victoria!" cried Loysik, his face beaming with exaltedenthusiasm. "Oh, woman Emperor! Heroine of Gaul! I can now die! Yourlife will have been to Brunhild the punishment for her crimes!" Andturning toward the Queen, who continued a prey to the frenzied vertigothat had seized her, he exclaimed triumphantly: "The glory of Victoria,like the bronze that you are trampling under foot, defies your impotentrage!"
At this point Warnachaire burst into the chamber crying:
"Madam--madam--disastrous tidings! A second messenger has just arrivedfrom the army. By a skilful manoeuvre Clotaire II surrounded our Germanallies; the prospect of booty carried them over to the enemy's banners;he is now advancing with forced marches upon Chalon. Your presence,together with that of the young princes, in the army, is indispensibleat this critical moment. I have just issued the necessary orders foryour immediate departure. Come, madam, come! The safety of yourkingdoms, perhaps your own life, is at stake--as you know, the son ofFredegonde is implacable!"
Struck with stupor at the sudden news Brunhild at first remainedpetrified, with her foot still resting upon the medal of Victoria. Aninstant later she had recovered herself, and in a clamorous voice, thatsounded like the roar of an infuriate lioness, she cried:
"To me, my leudes! A horse--a horse! Brunhild will either be killed atthe head of her army or the son of Fredegonde will meet his death inBurgundy. Send for the young princes! To horse. All forces on themarch!"
PART III.
THE CAMP OF CLOTAIRE.