The scheming Abbé Gorieux, thinking to complete the alienation which he
had successfully commenced between Maugis and Yolande, conceived the
idea that if Yolande could witness the proceedings of the council she
would herself be convinced of the perfidy of Maugis, and seeing his
discomfiture and downfall would wholly dismiss him from her heart, and
thus pave the way anew for the suit of his nephew, Ganelon. The crafty
priest knew that the princess possessed great riches. It was a stake
well worth striving for.
He easily obtained the consent of the princess to this plan, for much
as she had doubted him, and much as she had heard to his prejudice,
down in her heart she still loved Maugis and still believed him
innocent of the charges.
Accordingly, from behind the hangings of the council chamber, unseen
by any one, Yolande had witnessed the events related in the preceding
chapter, and when the meeting broke up she fled along the corridors to
her chamber with light foot and light heart.
“He is true to his God,” she said to herself. “I knew it and I love
him.” Then the thought of her cold and unkind treatment and avoidance
of him presented itself to her mind, and, seized with doubt as to
whether he would longer love her, she, in a revulsion of feeling,
threw herself on a couch and wept bitterly. At last the work of the
treacherous priest had been overthrown and defeated.
In the meantime the king had counseled with his advisers and Maugis
had been summoned to again appear before him. The king was visibly
embarrassed when he thus addressed him:
“Brave knight!” said he, “inasmuch as you have expressed your
willingness to take any means to reassure those of my court who seem to
profess doubt, I have two conditions to impose—take note of my desire
that you will gladly accept them. One is that thou shalt make oath of
thy fealty to God and the saints and forever promise to abandon occult
things; the other: you well know that my sister Yolande is beautiful
and that she will bring great dower to him whom she weds. You know well
how gladly each one here would possess her. Accept her then as your
wife. I am already under deep obligations to you, and to make sure our
friendship I seek thus to ally thee to our family. Become my brother,
and I suppose then those of my subjects who have manifested fears will
be not only completely reassured, but more so than ever, in that thou
wilt possess such a precious gage of happiness and security.”
This decision fell like a thunderbolt on the conspirators, who had
hoped the downfall of Maugis. The priest Gorieux paled and clinched
his hands until the nails penetrated the flesh. Why had he permitted
Yolande to witness the scene, he asked himself; but for that there
might yet be hope. It was a fatal error.
As for Maugis, the words of the king fairly stunned him. He had come
there solely to vindicate himself, and little thought the turn of
events would bring him his heart’s desire. At first his heart leaped
for joy when he fairly understood his happiness, but alas! only to be
shadowed by sadness when the aversion that Yolande had suddenly shown
for him came to his mind.
“Sire!” said he sadly, when he had recovered his self-possession,
“right gladly will I fulfill the first condition and thy second one
confers upon me such honor, confidence and happiness that a lifetime of
devotion from me could not repay. But, your majesty, I cannot consent
unless thy sister doth approve of thy suggestion,” said he earnestly
and proudly. “I never would be willing to impose myself upon a woman in
this fashion simply because reasons of state forced her to accept me as
her husband.”
At these words the king arose, terminating the audience, requesting
Maugis to come at the same time the next day.
Then the king hastened to the apartments of his sister, feeling some
uneasiness.
“Yolande,” said he, “thou knowest well thou hast been sought in
marriage by all the best men of my kingdom, and by many foreign
princes. Thou hast ever held thy heart free and have had thy will in
refusing all who have wooed thee, but the time has come for thee to
choose thy mate in life, and having thy welfare in our mind, we have
picked for thee a right gallant and comely man whose valor will do thee
honor and protect thee.”
“How now, good brother!” exclaimed Yolande, alarmed at the solemnity of
the king. “To whom dost thou propose to sell me?”
“I desire thou shalt wed Maugis,” replied the king.
“And did Maugis send thee hither to plead his suit?” haughtily replied
Yolande, all her pride aroused.
“Nay, but—” replied the king.
“Then get thee hence, sire, with thy Maugis!” interrupted the princess,
flying into a passion. “Thinkest thou that I am merchandise to be
bartered for strength to thy kingdom, or a slave to be sold to pay thy
obligations? Not so, royal brother. I tell thee now, once for all, the
air of a nunnery will please my health far better than a husband who
binds me to him as a hostage. I would be alone, go!” she cried.
The perplexed monarch was leaving the apartments of his sister when he
encountered the Duchess de Bearne, a worldly-wise, shrewd, and good
woman, who had been as a mother to the orphaned princess.
He confided to her his perplexity between the pride of the two lovers.
“Sire!” laughed the duchess, “little doth thou understand a woman’s
heart. Why didst thou not suffer Maugis to plead his own cause? But
rest thee. Leave them to me, I will see they meet on the morrow.”
Accordingly, the next day Maugis was summoned to the palace and the
servitor who admitted him at the great gate pointed him to the private
garden of the royal household, indicating that he was to go in there.
Maugis, little suspecting what was in store for him, strolled down the
shady pathway, expecting every moment to meet the king.
Meanwhile, the envy, hatred and malice of the treacherous Abbé Gorieux
and some of the courtiers had only been intensified by the turn events
had taken in favor of Maugis. They all agreed that he had become so
dangerous that desperate measures must be taken to remove him, and they
secretly plotted to take his life.
The opportunity was soon to come. It happened that one of them heard
the Duchess de Bearne give orders to show Maugis into the royal garden
when he came the next day and, acting on this hint, the conspirators
resolved to execute their foul deed. Six of them would waylay Maugis,
slay him, and escape amid the shrubbery.
The unsuspecting Maugis penetrated deeper into the shady depths of the
garden, and as he passed a clump of bushes a strong arm holding aloft
a sword hung over his head and then descended with crushing force upon
him.
Luckily, the slight noise made by the action caught his quick ear and
in turning his head to one side he escaped the full force of the blow,
which, however, caused him to fall to the earth stunned and bleeding.
In an instant they were upon him, but as quickly recovering himself, he
scrambled to his feet and drawing his trusty blade soon laid two of his
assailants low, but half-fainting from the loss of blood he was being
sore pressed and would have succumbed to the odds against him, when the
shouts of the approaching royal guards, who had been aroused by the
noise, caused the assassins to become panic-stricken and fly, while
Maugis sank fainting to the earth.
When he next opened his eyes he was gazing into the blue depths of
Yolande’s and felt her hot tears on his face. His head was pillowed on
her breast.
“Oh, loved one,” he murmured as he drew her face down to his and a
long silent kiss sealed their reconciliation.
The good duchess discreetly withdrew and they were left alone in the
deep shadows of the foliage.
The next day the council was reconvened and the king announced the
coming marriage of his sister to Maugis and everybody felicitated
the _fiancées_; a few days after the wedding was celebrated with
great splendor, with _fêtes_ and tournaments at which Maugis, who had
quickly recovered from his wounds, and his brothers D’Aymon, greatly
distinguished themselves by their feats at arms.
It was not long before Charlemagne was apprised of the exploits of
Maugis and his brothers, through the Abbé Gorieux and Ganelon, and the
emperor emphatically testified his displeasure to his courtiers at the
way the young men were braving him.
He had never, for one moment, abandoned his idea of vengeance, and
forthwith resolved to send Oger and Naimes, his two confidants, to the
King of Acquitaine to signify to him that he must deliver the sons
D’Aymon into his hands with their cousin Renaud, or suffer the effects
of his anger.
Arriving at the court of Yon, Oger and Naimes, being duly presented,
spoke in these terms:
“Sire! Charlemagne knows well that you have given hospitality to the
four sons D’Aymon and their cousin, and more, you have permitted the
erection by them of a fortress in the middle of your kingdom, though
by so doing you have perhaps not intended a blow to the interests of
your master.”
“That is true,” replied King Yon.
“Charlemagne will overlook it,” continued the Duke de Naimes, “but you
must not afford shelter and support against his anger to men of whose
crimes you probably are not familiar. Not only have they revolted
against their king, but Maugis is the nephew of the Duke d’Aigremont,
who murdered the son of Charlemagne, and is also the assassin of
Berthelot, the nephew of the emperor.”
“Noble knights!” replied King Yon, “I am exceedingly anxious to
maintain friendly relations with the emperor, but I cannot buy peace by
an act of perfidy. I would use all possible means to secure a sincere
reconciliation between the sons D’Aymon and the emperor. I would feel
satisfied could I arrive at that result.”
“This then is thy answer?” demanded Oger.
“It is,” responded King Yon.
“Then be warned,” thundered Naimes, “thy conditions are refused, and
unless thou wilt comply with the demands of thy emperor, bitter war
will cause thee to feel the wrath of Charlemagne.”
Oger and Naimes at once left the court, and returning to Charlemagne,
rendered him an account of their mission.
The emperor, as usual, flew into a violent rage and would have had his
army on the march within twenty-four hours, but his counsellors called
his attention to the fact that Maugis had now gained great prestige,
which would have a marked effect on the soldiers sent to fight him,
and that to attack Montaubon would be futile, when they had already
been unable to subdue Montfort. But Ganelon and his friends sided with
the emperor and encouraged his determination by all the means in their
power.
Charlemagne was inflexible and insisted upon war with the King of
Acquitaine and his allies.
It was at this point the audience of the king was interrupted by a
great noise and commotion outside, caused by the arrival of a stranger
and his suite. He was a young man of great personal beauty, and the
rich raiment he wore could not conceal the manhood of a true knight.
His suite were numerous and were dressed with equal richness, all
indicating that he was of princely birth. Everybody made way for him
when he appeared to present himself before the emperor.
“Sire!” said he, “I am Roland, the son of Milon and of your sister. I
have come to place myself at your service. Therefore deign to accept me
and your majesty will ever find me a faithful and loyal servitor.”
Charlemagne could hardly conceal his joy, because he thought at last he
had secured a knight who could equal the prowess of Maugis.
Some days later Charlemagne armed his nephew and knighted him
with great pomp and ceremony, giving _fêtes_ and tournaments more
extraordinary than usual in honor of the event. It was at tournaments
in those days that the knights exhibited their power and skill, and
this occasion gave Roland the opportunity to display a force and
address that seemed irresistible, and gave color to the hope of the
emperor that he had finally discovered a knight who could match Maugis,
who now bore the reputation of being the foremost warrior in France, a
hope which subsequent events, as we shall see, fully justified.
That tried, skilled and experienced knight, Oger, to satisfy himself
of the courage and endurance of the young knight, entered the tourney
against him, and for a time he was able to make a gallant fight; but he
was finally forced to declare himself conquered by his young adversary,
and thereupon Roland was, amid great acclaim, crowned the first knight
of the court.[2]
[Footnote 2: History tells us that not only was Roland renowned for
his prowess as a warrior, but his beauty of person and grace of manner
charmed the emperor and the entire court, and further, not only was he
a favorite with the ladies, but later became the idol of the people as
well.—G.]
So the days devoted to pleasure succeeded each other without
interruption, when all at once the startling news came of an invasion
of the Saracens from the north. They were advancing along theRhine,
killing, burning and destroying all in their path. Charlemagne
determined to send Roland to meet the infidels, giving him twenty
thousand men, ordering him to go at once, and sternly adding not to
return unless victorious.
[Illustration: MAUGIS.]
By means of forced marches Roland came upon the Saracens so suddenly as
to take them completely by surprise. They, on seeing the royal troops,
flew to arms, but Roland, not giving them time to recover from the
surprise, threw his army upon them with great impetuosity and cut them
to pieces.
Oger and Roland then followed the flying enemy in close pursuit, they
having divided, one part crossing the Rhine, was followed by Roland,
who caught up with them. Almonasar, king of the infidels, was made
prisoner, and begged Roland to spare him and those with him.
The nephew of Charlemagne, granting them quarter, they laid down their
arms and he marched them in return to the point where Roland had parted
from Oger, whom he met, followed by a large number of prisoners he had
also captured, all of whom were bound and placed in charge of the Duke
de Naimes. To save his life, Almonasar abjured the Mohammed faith.
Roland next proceeded to Cologne, where he reestablished order and
repaired the damage done by the Saracens, and later sojourned to the
court of Paris with his prisoner. There his glory and renown was much
enhanced by the mercy he showed Almonasar, for Roland, generous as the
brave always are, accorded him his liberty with the approval of the
emperor and sent him to his own country, he first having made oath of
fidelity.