"You, a slave of your own son!... But, God, he did not know it!" "Yes, the same as I did not know that my new master, the young Frankish chief Berthoald, was my son Amael." "And probably your son, who marched at the head of his troop, did not see you on the journey." "We were eight or ten female slaves in a covered cart. We followed the army of Charles. Occasionally the men of chief Berthoald visited us, and ... but I shall spare your blushes, poor child, and shall not dilate upon their infamous conduct!" added Rosen-Aer shuddering at the disgusting and horrible recollection. "My age protected me from a shame that, however, I was determined to escape by death.... My son never joined in those orgies, frequently stained with blood and moistened in tears--the men beat the girls to the point of shedding their blood when they sought to resist being outraged. In that way we arrived in the vicinity of the convent of St. Saturnine. We stopped there several hours. The Jew Mordecai happened to be at the monastery. Learning, no doubt, that there were slaves to buy in the train of the army, he came to us accompanied by some men of the band of Berthoald. You were sold, poor child; you know the disgraceful examination that these dealers in Gallic flesh submit the slaves to." "Yes, yes; I had to undergo the shame before the monks of the abbey of St. Saturnine when they sold me to the Jew," answered Septimine, hiding her face, purple with shame. Rosen-Aer proceeded: "Women and young girls, despite their prayers and resistance, were stripped of their clothes, profaned and spoiled by the looks of the men who wanted either to sell or to buy us. My age could not spare me this general disgrace--" and breaking out into tears and wringing her arms in despair, the mother of Amael added amidst moans: "Such are the Franks whose companion of war my son is!" "It is horrible!" "The baseness confounds my senses and makes my heart to sicken. At the age of fifteen my son disappeared from the valley of Charolles, where he lived free and happy ... before the Saracen invasion. What happened since? I do not know." Hearing the name of the valley of Charolles, Bonaik, who had remained steeped in thought, trembled and listened to the conversation between Septimine and the mother of Amael, who proceeded to say: "Perhaps the Jew holds the secret of my son's life." "That Jew?... How?" "When, despite the pain it gave me, the Jew came to inspect me, I had to undergo the fate of the rest. I was stripped of my clothes.... Oh, may my son never know of my shame! The thought alone would haunt him as a perpetual remorse through life, if he should live," Rosen-Aer interjected in a low voice. "While I underwent the fate of my companions in slavery ... the Jew observed with a start on my left arm these two words traced in indelible letters: '_Brenn_,' '_Karnak_.'" "'_Brenn_,' '_Karnak_'!" cried the old goldsmith.