The emperor returned to France. Halt was made by the vine-clad banks of the Dordone, and the bodies of the fallen heroes were interred at Blaive, after which the march to Paris was resumed. There the feast of victory was held, and when it was over, Kaiser Karl set out for Aix, where Ganelon was tried before a jury of twelve of his peers. He was sentenced to prove his innocence by single combat against Thiedrich, Roland’s faithful squire. As Ganelon was much weakened by his imprisonment, he was allowed to choose any one he liked to act as proxy for him. He chose Pinabel, one of the most famous swordsmen of his day; but that availed him nothing; God fought for Thiedrich, and Pinabel was overthrown. Ganelon was then sentenced to be torn in pieces by wild horses. Soon after this, fair Auda came to Aix in search of her betrothed. None of the warriors had courage to tell her the truth, so they referred her to the emperor, and he told her with tears in his eyes. “Dead,” she said; “Roland dead!” With these words she sank lifeless to the ground, so they took her away, and buried her beside her hero in the vault at Blaive. [Illustration] [Illustration] III. WILLIAM OF ORANGE. THE INHERITANCE. Count Henry of Narbonne, who was both a good man and a hero, lived at the time when Kaiser Karl ruled over the Franks. He was held in much esteem by the emperor, because of his valorous deeds, and had received many fiefs in addition to his paternal estates. After a time he withdrew to his own castle, and, together with his wife, occupied himself with the education of his seven sons, and several daughters. Years passed on, and the sons all grew up to man’s estate. One day their father called them to him, and said that he had a story to tell them, to which they must listen attentively. “You must know,” he said, “that once, long ago, I sank exhausted on the field of battle, worn with fighting, and covered with wounds. The enemy rushed up to slay me, but a faithful squire defended me at the risk of his own life. Just as further help arrived, he sank severely wounded on the blooming heather beside me. We were removed from the field, and every care and attention was lavished on us. I got better, but he grew weaker every day. He was not afraid to die, but he was troubled about the fate of his little son, whom he would leave an orphan, for his wife had died some time before. I comforted the man who had given his life for me, by telling him that I would be a father to the boy, and that if he grew up fit for the trust, he should be my heir, whether I had children of my own or not. He is now a gallant knight and brave warrior, and I am proud to call him my pupil. Now, my sons, tell me, do you wish me to keep my word to my dying preserver, or do you desire to share my estate amongst you?”