THE ROYAL FAMILY.
The reading of the papal epistle was interrupted at this point by the
noise of many children's laughter that proceeded from the contiguous
chamber. Almost immediately thereupon the three younger brothers of
Sigebert, who was then absent on the journey to Germany, rushed in,
followed by their governesses. The little ones ran to their
great-grandmother. Childebert, the eldest of the three, was ten years of
age; Corbe nine, and Merovee, the youngest, six. The poor children, born
of a father who was almost worn out, even before adolescence, through
all manner of early excesses, were delicate, frail, dreamy, and painful
to behold. Even their mirth had a saddening effect. Their cheeks were
hollow, they were sicklied over by a pallor that betrayed ill health,
and that rendered their eyes exceptionally large and weird. Their long
hair, the symbol of Frankish royalty, fell thin upon their shoulders.
They wore short dalmaticas of gold and silver thread. The governesses
respectfully bent their knees at the entrance of the hall and remained
at the door, while the children ran forward and surrounded their
great-grandmother. Childebert remained standing near her; Corbe and
Merovee, the two youngest, climbed upon her knees, as she said to them:
"You seem to be in good spirits this morning, my dear children! What is
the reason of your joy?"
"Grandmother, it is our brother Corbe, who made us laugh."
"What did Corbe do that was so funny?"
"He plucked all the feathers off his white turtle dove--and she
screeched so--she screeched--"
"And you laughed--you laughed--you little imps!"
"Yes, grandmother, but our little brother Merovee wept."
"Did he laugh so hard that he cried?"
"Oh, no; I wept because the bird bled."
"And I thereupon told Merovee: 'You have no courage, if blood frightens
you! And when we go to battle, will you weep there also at the sight of
blood?'"
"And while Corbe was saying so to Merovee, I took a knife and cut the
dove's head off. Oh, I am not afraid of blood; not I; and when I am a
big man I shall go to war, not so grandmother?"
"Ah, children! You know not what you are wishing. It is easy to amuse
yourselves cutting off the heads of doves, without feeling obliged some
day to go to war. To make war means to ride day and night, suffer
hunger, heat and cold, to sleep under tents, and what is worst of all,
run the risk of being wounded and killed, all of which causes great
pain. Is it not far better, dear children, to promenade quietly in a
cart or a litter, to lie down in a soft bed, eat dainties, have fun all
day long, and please your whims? The blood of royal families is too
precious a thing to expose it recklessly, my pretty little kinglets. You
have your leudes to go to war and fight the enemy in battle, your
servants to kill the people who may displease or offend you; your
priests to order the people to obey you. So, you see, all you have to do
is to amuse yourselves, to enjoy the delights of life, happy children
that you are, having nothing to say but 'I will.' Do you understand
these words well, my dear little ones? Answer, Childebert, you being the
eldest and therefore most intelligent."
"Oh, yes, grandmother; I am no more anxious than other people to go to
war in search of lance-thrusts; I prefer to amuse myself, and do what I
please. But why, then, did our brother Sigebert go away on horseback,
followed by armed men, and accompanied by Warnachaire?"
"Your brother is ailing; the physicians have advised letting him
undertake a long trip for the good of his health."
"Will he be back soon?"
"To-morrow, perhaps--perhaps even to-day."
"Oh, so much the better, grandmother! So much the better! His place will
not then be empty in our room--we miss him--"
"Be not too glad on that score, my little kinglets. Henceforth, Sigebert
will inhabit his own royal mansion, he will have his own servants and
his separate room. Oh, he will be like a little man!"
"But he is only one year older than I!"
"Oh, oh! In a year you also will be a little man, my little Childebert,"
replied Brunhild exchanging a diabolical glance with Chrotechilde; "you
will then also have your royal establishment and your separate
room--your chamberlains, your equerries, your slaves, all of them
submissive to your every whim, like dogs to the switch."
"Oh, how I would like to be a year older, so as to have all those things
that you promise me!"
"And so would I like to see you older--and Corbe also--and also Merovee,
I would like to see you all of the age of Sigebert."
"Patience, madam," said Chrotechilde again exchanging infernal glances
with Brunhild; "patience; it will all come about--but what noise is that
in the large hall? I hear numerous steps approaching--it must be
seigneur Warnachaire!"