THE FOREST OF OPPENHEIM.
The hunt to which Charles the Emperor had galloped off with the buoyancy
of youth, took place in a vast forest located at the very gate of
Aix-la-Chapelle. The autumn sky, at first radiant, had been gradually
overcast by one of the mists that are so frequent at the season and in
that northern region. Obedient to the Emperor's orders, none of his
courtiers attached himself to his steps. The hunters scattered. The more
daring and venturesome did not quit the pack, now fretting in their
leashes to start in pursuit of the deer across the thickets. The less
daring and less enthusiastic sportsmen contented themselves with
following at a distance the sound of the horns or the barking of the
hounds; they straggled behind, or waited to see the deer dash across
their path with the hounds and hunters at his heels. From the very start
of the hunt, Charles, carried away by his ardor for the sport, left his
daughters to themselves, unable as they were to follow him through the
thickest of the jungle, into which the Emperor of the Franks plunged
like the hottest of his huntsmen. For an instant, separated from his
grandfather in the rush and crush of the tumultuous assembly, where
nearly a hundred horses, gathered in a small space, were excited by the
din of the horns, to which they added their own impatient neighing,
champed their bits and reared wildly, Vortigern raised himself in his
stirrups and searched with his eyes for Amael, when suddenly his own
horse took the bit in his mouth and galloped off rapidly with his rider.
When the young Breton finally succeeded, by dint of violent efforts, to
master his mount, he found himself at a considerable distance from the
chase. Seeking to penetrate with his eyes the mist that spread ever
further and thicker over the forest, the young man perceived that he was
on a long avenue whose issues it was impossible to distinguish. He
listened, expecting to hear from the distance the noise of the chase,
which would have guided him in his efforts to joint it. The profoundest
silence reigned in this part of the forest. A moment later, however, the
tramp of two horses rapidly approaching from behind, struck his ears,
and immediately after, a cry, uttered in anger rather than fear. An
instant later, Vortigern detected a vague form across the mist. By
degrees the form became distinct, and soon the blonde Thetralde was
disclosed to the wondering eyes of the young Breton, urging on her
horse, and clad in a long robe of sapphire blue cloth, trimmed with
ermine, white as the coat of her palfrey. On her blonde tresses
Thetralde wore a small cap, also of ermine. A sash of Tyrean silk of
lively colors, the long ends of which fluttered behind her in the air,
was wound around her delicate waist. The childlike and charming visage
of the Emperor's daughter, now enhanced by the ardor of her run, shone
with the flush of health. Blushing at the sight of Vortigern, Thetralde
dropped her large blue eyes, while the tight corsage of her robe rose
and sank under the throbs of her maidenly bosom. Vortigern's disturbance
equalled Thetralde's. Like her, he remained mute and embarrassed. His
eyes also were lowered, and he felt his heart beat violently. The silent
embarrassment of the two children was broken by Thetralde. In a timid
and diffident voice she said to the young Breton without daring to raise
her eyes to him:
"I thought I would never be able to join thee. Thy horse had such a long
lead of my palfrey--"
"My horse carried me away--"
"Oh, I noticed it--my sister Hildrude also," Thetralde added frowning
with her pretty eyebrows. "Both of us thereupon rushed in thy
pursuit--we feared that in thy unacquaintance with the paths of our
forest thou mightest lose thy way."
"It did seem to me that I heard the gallop of two horses--"
"My sister wished to run ahead of me; but I struck her horse on the head
with my whip. The frightened animal bolted to one side, carrying
Hildrude along. She was angry and uttered a cry of rage."
"Perhaps she runs some danger!"
"No, my sister will be able to master her horse. But as the mist is very
thick, she will not be able to meet us again. I am so happy about that!"
Vortigern felt on the rack. Nevertheless, an ineffable sense of joy
mingled with his agony. Anew the two children remained silent, and again
the daughter of the Emperor of the Franks was the one to break the
silence:
"Thou dost not speak--art thou annoyed that I have joined thee?"
"Oh, no, lovely princess--"
"Perhaps thou thinkest me wicked because I struck my sister's horse?
When I saw her striving to pass me, I no longer could control myself."
"I hope that no ill may have befallen your sister."
"I hope so too."
For a moment Thetralde and Vortigern again relapsed into silence. With a
slight touch of vexation the young girl once more resumed the
conversation:
"Thou art very quiet--"
"I know not what to say--"
"Nor I either; and yet I was dying with the wish to speak to thee--what
is thy name?"
"Vortigern."
"I am called Thetralde--pronounce my name."
"Thetralde--"
"I love to hear thee pronounce my name."
"Where do you think the hunt is now?" asked the young Breton with
increasing uneasiness. "It will be difficult to find the hunters. The
mist grows ever denser."
"Should we lose ourselves," Thetralde replied laughing, "I do not know
the paths of the forest."
"Why did you not, then, remain near the people of the court and the
seigneurs of the escort?"
"I saw thee running off rapidly, and I followed thee."
"That throws both you and me into a great perplexity."
"Art thou sorry to find thyself alone here with me?"
"Not at all!" cried Vortigern, "only I fear that this dense mist may
change into rain towards evening, and that you may get wet. We should
try and join the chase. Do you not think so?"
"In what direction shall we go?"
"It seemed to me a moment ago I heard the feeble sound of horns at a
great distance."
"Let us listen again," said Thetralde, bending her charming head to one
side, while Vortigern sought to listen from the opposite side.
"Dost thou hear anything?" queried the Emperor's daughter raising her
sweet voice and addressing Vortigern, who stood at a little distance. "I
can hear nothing."
"Nor I either," rejoined the young Breton.
"Here we are lost!" cried the young girl laughing merrily. "And if night
overtakes us, what a terrible thing!"
"And you laugh at such a plight?"
"Is it that thou art afraid, and thou a soldier?" But immediately the
handsome face of Thetralde assumed an uneasy look and she observed:
"Does thy wound hurt thee, my brave companion?"
"I am not thinking of my wound. I am only uneasy at perceiving that the
mist grows still thicker. How can we regain our route? Whither could we
go?"
"But I do wish to speak of thy wound," replied Charles' daughter with
infantine impatience. "Why is not thy arm any longer protected by a
scarf, as it was yesterday?"
"It would have incommoded me in the chase."
Thetralde quickly detached her long belt of Tyrean silk and held it out
to Vortigern. "Take this, my belt will take the place of thy scarf, and
sustain thy arm."
"It is unnecessary, I assure you."
"Bad boy!" cried Thetralde, holding out her belt to Vortigern; and
fixing upon him her beautiful blue eyes, almost imploringly said: "I beg
of thee; do not refuse me!"
Vanquished by the timid and loving look, the young Breton accepted the
scarf; but as he held the reins of his horse with one hand he found it
difficult to fasten the belt into a scarf-band around his neck.
"Wait," and Thetralde approached her palfrey close to Vortigern's horse,
leaned over in her saddle, took the two ends of the belt and tied them
behind the lad's neck. The touch of the young girl's hand sent so wild a
thrill through his frame that Thetralde, noticing the circumstance,
said, as she finished the knot: "Thou tremblest--is it out of fear, or
out of cold?"
"The mist is becoming so thick, so wet," answered Vortigern, with
increasing uneasiness. "Are not you yourself cold? I very much fear for
you in this icy mist--"
"Fear not for me. But seeing thou art cold, we can walk our horses. It
would be useless to move any faster. Perhaps the chase that we are in
search of will come our way."
"So much the better!"
"I am delighted to learn that thy grandfather and thyself will remain a
long time with us."
"May we be fortunate enough to do so!"
The two children continued their way, walking their horses side by side
in the long avenue, where one could see not twenty paces ahead, so thick
had the mist become. Night presently began to draw near. After a short
interval of mutual silence, Thetralde resumed:
"We Franks are the enemies of the people of thy country; and yet I feel
no enmity whatever towards thee; and thou, dost thou entertain any
hatred for me?"
"I could not feel hatred for a young girl."
"Thou must feel very sorry for being far away from thy own country.
Wouldst thou wish me to ask the Emperor, my father, to render grace to
thy grandfather and thyself?"
"A Breton never asks for grace!" proudly cried Vortigern. "My
grandfather and I are hostages, prisoners on parole; we shall submit to
the law of war."
A fresh interval of silence followed upon this exchange of words. But
soon, as Vortigern had foreseen, the dense mist changed into a fine and
penetrating rain.
"The rain is upon us!" exclaimed the young Breton. "Not a sound is
heard. This route seems to be endless. No! here is a side path to the
left. Shall we take it?"
"As it may please thee," answered Thetralde with indifference.
The girl was about to turn her horse's head, agreeable to the suggestion
of Vortigern, when the latter suddenly leaped down from his mount,
detached the belt of his sword, took off his blouse, remaining in his
thick jacket of the material of his breeches, and said to Thetralde:
"I consented to accept your scarf. It is now your turn. You must now
consent to cover yourself with my blouse. It will serve you for a
mantle."
"Place it on my shoulders," answered Thetralde blushing; "I dare not
drop the reins of my palfrey."
No less agitated than his girl companion, Vortigern drew near her and
laid his garment on the shoulders of Thetralde. But when it came to
tying the sleeves of the blouse around her neck and almost upon the
palpitating bosom of the young girl, who, with her eyes lowered and her
cheeks burning, raised her little pink chin in order to afford Vortigern
full ease in the accomplishment of his kindly office, the hands of the
lad shook so violently, that his mission was not accomplished until
after repeated trials.
"Thou art cold; thou art shivering worse than thou didst before."
"It is not the cold that makes me shiver--"
"What ails thee then?"
"I know not--the uneasiness that I feel on your behalf, seeing that
night approaches. We have lost our way in the forest. The rain is coming
down heavier. And we know not what road to take--"
Interrupting her companion with a cry of joy, Thetralde pointed with her
finger to one side of the avenue of trees that they were on, and
exclaimed: "There is a hut down yonder!"
So there was. Vortigern perceived in the center of a cluster of
centenarian chestnut trees a hut constructed of thick layers of peat
heaped upon one another. A narrow opening gave entrance to the bower,
before which the remnants of some dry wood recently lighted were still
seen smouldering. "It is one of the huts in which the woodcutter slaves
take refuge during the day when it rains," explained Thetralde. "We
shall be then under cover. Tie thy horse to a tree and help me alight."
At the bare thought of sharing the solitary retreat with the young girl,
Vortigern felt his heart thump under his ribs. A flush of burning fever
rose to his face while, nevertheless, he shivered. After a moment's
hesitation, the lad complied with the orders of his companion. He tied
his horse to a tree, and, in order to assist the young girl to alight
from her mount, he extended to her his arms and received within them the
supple and nimble body of Thetralde. So profound was the emotion
experienced by Vortigern at the touch of the maid, that he was almost
overcome. But the daughter of Charles, running towards the hut with
pretty curiosity, cried out merrily:
"I see a moss-bank in the hut and a supply of dry wood. Let's light a
fire. There are still some embers burning. Hurry. Hurry."
The lad hastened to join his companion and stumbled over a large log of
wood that rolled at his feet. Stooping, he saw strewn about it a large
number of burrs that had dropped down from the tall chestnut trees
overhead. At once forgetting his embarrassment, he exclaimed with
delight:
"A discovery! Chestnuts! Chestnuts!"
"What a find," responded Thetralde, no less delighted. "We shall roast
the chestnuts. I shall pick them up while thou startest the fire."
The young Breton did as suggested by his girl companion, all the more
readily seeing that he hoped to find in the sport a refuge from the
vague, tumultuous and ardent thoughts, big at once with delight and
anxiety, that he had been a prey to from the moment of his meeting with
Thetralde. He entered the hut, took up several bunches of dry wood and
rekindled the brasier into flame, while the daughter of Charles, running
hither and thither, gathered a large supply of chestnuts which she
brought into the hut in a fold of her dress. Letting herself down upon
the moss-bank that lay at the further end of the hut, the interior of
which was now brightly lighted by the glare of the fire which burned
near the entrance, she said to Vortigern, motioning him to a seat near
her:
"Sit down here, and help me shell these chestnuts."
The lad sat down near Thetralde and entered with her into a contest of
swiftness in the shelling of chestnuts, during which, like herself, he
more than once pricked his fingers in the effort to extract the ripe
kernels from their burrs. Presently, looking into her face, he said
archly:
"And here you have the daughter of the Emperor of the Franks; seated
inside of a peat hut and shelling chestnuts like any woodchopper and
slave's daughter."
"Vortigern," answered Thetralde, returning the look of her companion
with a radiant face, "never was the daughter of the Emperor of the
Franks more happy than at this moment."
"And I, Thetralde, I swear to you that since the day I left my mother,
my sister and Brittany, I have never been more pleased than to-day, than
now, near you."
"And if to-morrow should resemble to-day? and if it should be thus for a
long time, a very long time--wouldst thou always be pleased?"
"And you, Thetralde?"
"Say 'thou' to me. We address one another with 'thou' in Germany. Say to
me: 'And thou, Thetralde?'"
"But the respect--"
"I say 'thou' to you, and do not respect you the less for it," rejoined
the maid laughing. "Say to me: 'And thou, Thetralde?'"
"And thou, Thetralde?"
"So thou wishest to know whether I would be happy at the thought of all
our days resembling this one, and our living together?"
"Yes, my charming Princess!"
The young maid remained pensive, holding in her delicate fingers a half
opened chestnut husk. Presently she raised her head and broke the
silence with the question: "Vortigern, is it far from here to thy
country?"
"It took us more than a month to come here from Brittany."
"Vortigern, what a beautiful journey that would make!"
"What sayest thou?"
Thetralde made a charming gesture commanding silence: "Hast thou any
money about thee?"
And proceeding to detach from her belt a little embroidered purse, she
emptied its contents into her lap. There were several heavy pieces of
gold and a large number of smaller pieces of silver and copper. Two of
the latter, one of silver and one of copper, and both of about the size
of a denier, were pierced and tied together by a thread of gold. "This
is all my treasure," the girl observed.
"Why are these two pieces tied together?" inquired Vortigern, with a
look of curiosity.
"Oh, these two must never be spent. We must preserve them carefully. One
of them, the copper one, was struck the year of my birth; the other, the
silver one, was struck this year, when I shall be fifteen. Fabius, my
father's astronomer, has engraved upon these pieces certain magical
signs corresponding to planets of happy influence. The Bishop of
Aix-la-Chapelle blessed them. They are a talisman."
"If it were not that they are a talisman, Thetralde, I would have
requested these two little pieces from thee as a souvenir of this day."
"To what purpose wouldst thou keep a souvenir of this day rather than of
the next days to follow? Dost thou not desire that all should resemble
one another? If thou desirest these two little pieces, here, take them;
I give them to thee. A talisman is a useful thing on a journey. Place
them in the pocket of thy jacket."
Vortigern obeyed almost mechanically, while the young girl, after
ingenuously counting up her little hoard, resumed, saying: "We here have
five gold sous, eight silver deniers, and twelve copper deniers;
besides my bracelets, my necklace and my earrings. With that we shall
have money enough to journey as far as Brittany. Night is upon us; we
shall spend it under the shelter of this hut. To-morrow we shall have
the woodcutter slave lead us to Werstern, a little burg situated on the
skirt of the forest, about two leagues from Aix-la-Chapelle. We shall
buy some simple clothing for myself, a traveling cloak of cloth.
To-morrow at daybreak we shall start on our route. Do not fear that I
shall recoil before fatigue. I am neither as tall nor as strong as my
sister Hildrude, and yet, if thou shouldst be tired or wounded, I am
sure I could carry thee on my back, just as my sister Imma once carried
her lover Eginhard on hers. But our chestnuts are now all shelled. Come
and help me to put them under the hot ashes. We shall eat them when
roasted."
Raising with one hand the fold of her robe in which lay the nuts,
Thetralde ran to the brasier. Vortigern followed her. He felt as in a
dream. At times his reason gave way under the spell of an ardent and
intoxicating vertigo. He knelt down silently, disturbed in mind, beside
Thetralde before the brasier, into which the girl, steeped in thought,
was slowly throwing the chestnuts one by one. Without, the rain had
stopped; but the mist, now thickened to a fog with the approach of
night, rendered the darkness complete. The reflection of the brasier
only lighted up the charming faces of the two children on their knees
beside each other. When the last chestnut had followed the others under
the cinders, Thetralde rose, and leaning with familiar candor on
Vortigern's shoulders said to him, taking his hand:
"And now, while thy supper is cooking, let us go back and sit down upon
the bench of moss for me to finish telling thee my prospects. I have
thought over what we are to do."
The night became profound. The flickering, vacillating flame in the
expiring brasier seemed to cry for fresh fuel. The chestnuts, that had
been consigned to its warmth, snapped noisily from their hulls into the
air, announcing that their toothsome pulp was ready to be partaken of.
Without, the horse and the palfrey of Vortigern and Thetralde pawed the
ground and neighed impatiently, as if calling for their provender. The
fire finally went out. The chestnuts changed to charcoal. The neighings
of the horses resounded ever louder in the midst of the nocturnal
silence of the forest. Thetralde and Vortigern did not issue from the
hut.