"My mission is accomplished; I demand of you no promises regarding the monastery and the inhabitants of the Valley of Charolles; your own interests are my best guarantee. I would now request of you a sheet of parchment for me to write to my brother--and to my monks--just a few lines. You are free to read them--it is my farewell words to my family; I also wish to request my monks to set your chamberlain, the archdeacon, and their men-at-arms free. One of your own messengers may carry the letter." "There is writing material on this table--you may sit down." Loysik took a seat at the table and proceeded to write serenely. Nevertheless such was his joy at having carried the difficult matter to so successful an issue that his hand betrayed a slight tremor. Brunhild followed him attentive and somber: "You tremble--you must be afraid, old man!" "The gratification of having warded off so many evils from the heads of my brothers affects me and causes my hand to tremble. Here is the letter--read it." Brunhild read, and said as she rolled up the parchment: "These words of farewell are simple, they are dignified and touching. I understand better and better the powerful influence that you exercise over those people--they are the arms, you the head. Within shortly they will be a headless and, therefore, lifeless body. After the war is over I shall find it easier to reduce them to obedience. Have you anything to ask of me?" "Nothing--except that you hasten my execution." "I shall be magnanimous; your unshakable firmness pleases me; I shall spare you the torture and I shall leave to you the choice of death. You may choose between poison, iron, fire or water." "Have my throat cut." "It shall be as you wish, monk. Have you any other favor to ask?" "Yes," said Loysik slowly stepping towards the ivory stand on which lay the case of medals, "I would like to take with me this bronze medal; I would like to keep it with me during the short time of life that is left me. It will be sweet to me to die with my eyes fixed upon this glorious effigy." "Let me see what medal that is--they are all mere antique curiosities. Truly, this woman is handsome, and proud under her Amazonian casque. What is the inscription here below? _Victoria, Emperor_. A woman an emperor?" "The sovereign title was bestowed upon her after her death." "She surely was of royal race?" "She was of plebeian race." "What was her life?" "Simple--austere--illustrious! Her great soul was visible in her serenely grave features--an august countenance that this bronze has preserved for posterity. Her life was that of a chaste wife--a sublime mother--a brave Gallic woman. She never left her modest home but to follow her son to war, or to the camps. The soldiers worshipped her; they called her their mother. She brought up her son manfully in the love for his country and set him the example of the loftiest virtues. Her ambition--" "This austere woman was ambitious!"