The four sons of Aymon, reduced to the last extremities, without soldiers, or without any resources whatever, wandered in the forests of the Ardennes, shelterless and hungry. Maugis, finally, when their position became unsupportable, suggested that the only thing left for them to do was to return to the château of their father. Said he: “Whether the sentiments of our father are just or not, what right have we to doubt the devotion of our mother? Has she not always given to us her love? Do not our own people love us? What is there then to fear? Nothing! besides, the life we have been living for some time past has so changed us I doubt if any one will know us.” Besides the starvation and ruin that stared him in the face, the noble soul of Maugis was sadly torn by concern for the position of Yolande, his beloved one, in the court of Charlemagne. He had learned that she was practically a hostage for the loyalty of her brother, King of Yon, the ruler of a small principality in the south, though her position at the court was as lady-in-waiting to the empress. He knew the persecutions of Ganelon were well-nigh unbearable and that she could not escape them by leaving the court. He chafed at the fate that held him bound hand and foot, and longed for the chance to rescue Yolande—how, he knew not. The case seemed hopeless. Charlemagne, now thoroughly embittered, would pursue them to the end, and what would that be? While these sad reflections were passing through his mind, his brothers had consulted among themselves and decided to follow his advice, and the four waited patiently for night to fall, that they might take up their route home. They finally arrived in their own province the next day, after a long and exhausting march, and at a moment when it was most favorable for them to enter the château. Their father was away hunting. Nobody recognized them. Their horses having every appearance of hard usage, every one thought they had returned from the wars in the holy land, and when they appeared at the gates of the château they were opened to them willingly, for great sanctity was attached to those who had been to the holy sepulcher, and the blessing of God was supposed to rest upon all such. They demanded to see the duchess. On hearing of the arrival of the four knights she hastened to them, and on beholding them so pale, worn and wasted, she could hardly control her feelings. “Welcome, sir knights!” cried she to them, not recognizing her sons; “accept the hospitality I offer you with all my heart, and be assured I shall do everything in my power to assist you.” Maugis was choking with sobs, and tears were running from his eyes. “Ah, my mother!” cried he, “why is it our father does not feel toward us the way you do, and why is it that because we embraced a cause we thought was right we have incurred disgrace?”