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

"My Vagres!" cried Ronan, "Hang the bishop on the nearest tree! We shall not lack for a cook."

Already they were seizing the holy man, who now grew paler and trembled in greater terror than the most awe-struck of the mothers who had just been running over with joy, when the monk again interposed to save Cautin from the noose.

"The hermit!" cried the mothers and their children. "The hermit-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 the hermit, who said in his sweet and clear voice:

"Dear women, dear little ones; take what is given you; take without fear; Jesus said: 'Woe unto the rich who share not their bread with those who hunger, and their cloak with those who are cold.' Your bishop gives you all these good things. Take all that is offered to you!"

"Blessings upon you, holy bishop!" exclaimed the mothers, raising their arms in thankfulness to Cautin. "Blessed be you, good father, for your generous gifts!"

"I give nothing!" cried Cautin. "You shall burn eternally in hell, if you listen to that apostate hermit!"

The larger number of the women looked undecided from Ronan to the bishop and the hermit. They put their hands forward and withdrew them again from the articles that were offered them. But two of the oldest of them resolutely drew away from the goods of the Church, and throwing themselves down upon their knees murmured affrighted:

"Holy Bishop Cautin! Pardon us for having even for a moment harbored the thought of committing so great a crime. Mercy! Mercy!"

"Fear not, my sisters!" resumed the hermit. "Your bishop gives you all these good things. He knows that the Lord has equal love for all his children, and does not wish that some should be naked and freeze, while others perspire under the useless weight of twenty gowns; that some should suffer hunger, while others are filled to repletion. Fear not that your bishop will either hunger or suffer cold; he has new and warm clothing on; he knows not what to do with so many robes; he can not drink 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, and also driven by the lash of their needs, began busily to transport the proffered goods of the Church into their huts, aided by their children. Only three elderly ones dared not to join; they remained on their knees and 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 paradise and will hear the seraphim play on the harp before the Lord, while they sing His praises!"

"My Vagres!" again Ronan called out. "A rope! Let the hypocritical babbler be strung up high and dry! It is evident that he has made up his mind 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? 'Him that taketh away thy cloak forbid not to take away thy coat also.' What thought did Jesus mean to convey by these words, but that only too often theft has want for its cause, and that charity should be exercised and pity 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 not lay our fingers on the goods of the Church!" cried one of the three kneeling 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 of paradise 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 ones that 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, we shall hang the bishop before your very eyes."

"Here is a rope," said Wolf's-Tooth, and he put the noose around Cautin's neck.

"Dear daughters, take everything!" cried the prelate acting under a new inspiration. "Your father in Christ requests you, adjures you, orders you to accept the booty – accept it quick!" he added as he felt the noose tighten.

One of the three kneeling women rose and obeyed with alacrity; the other two 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 am indispensable for the salvation of my flock. I pray you, carry that booty away! If you do not, I shall damn you! I shall excommunicate you! Confounded old hags! Miserable wretches, you will have to answer for my death on the day of judgment!"

"Holy bishop, you seek to try us to the last. You just said to us that to touch the goods of the Church is mortal sin. Would you order us to commit a mortal sin?"

"No! No!" screamed the other of the two mothers who had remained on their knees; she smote her breast and added: "Holy man, you could never think of ordering us to commit mortal sin! You are to receive martyrdom! – "

"And from the heavens above you will throw your blessings upon us, great and good St. Cautin!"

"Bishop, do you hear these poor old women? You sowed, now you are harvesting. Come, my Vagres, draw the rope!"

Once more the hermit interposed in order to protect the prelate. At that moment 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 gang of chained men! Up, my Vagres! Death to the leudes! Freedom to the slaves!"

"Death to the leudes! Freedom to the slaves!" shouted the Vagres and ran to their arms.

"The Franks have come to capture me and take me back to the burg of the count!" 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 a scouting party riding ahead of a numerous troop. Send out scouters against scouters; keep the bulk of your men in reserve and have them entrench themselves behind the wagons."

"Monk, you are right. You talk like an experienced soldier. You must have made war?"

"A little – occasionally – whenever it was necessary to protect the weak against the strong."

"Frankish warriors!" cried Cautin clasping his hands with a triumphant air. "Friends! Allies! I am saved! Help, dear brothers in Christ! This way, my beloved sons in God! Fall upon this rabble. Deliver me from the hands of the Philistines! This way, my – "

Giving a jerk to the rope around the neck of the holy man, Ronan suddenly checked his flow of speech by drawing the noose tight.

"Bishop, no useless cries!" said the hermit; "and you, Ronan, no violence; drop that rope!"

"Very well; but I shall bind his arms; and if he again breaks in upon my ears I shall run my sword through him – "

"The Frankish riders have reined in their horses the moment they caught sight of the wagons," cried one of the Vagres; "they seem to be deliberating what to do."

"Our deliberation will not be long. There are seven of the mounted Franks; let six Vagres follow me, and by the faith of Ronan, it will not be long before there will be seven conquerors less in Gaul!"