Ronan, old little Odille, the Master of the Hounds and the Bishopess were promenading along the bank of the river Charolles, near the lodge where the monks of the monastery and the inhabitants of the Valley took their turns as sentinels near the landing-place of the punt. Since the revelation of the pretensions of the Bishop of Chalon, besides the regular sentinel, ten brothers and twenty colonists, all well armed, took turns in guarding the crossing, and encamped in an improvised block-house. "Old Master of the Hounds," Ronan observed sadly, "this is the seventh day since Loysik left; he is not yet back; I can not overcome my uneasiness." "Why, there he is!" cried Odille in great glee. "Do you not see his white mule? He is riding down the slope of the hill in great hurry; he is coming down to the river bank; send the punt across for him." Ronan, the Master of the Hounds, Odille, the Bishopess, all their children, together with several monks and colonists threw themselves into the punt. The river was quickly crossed, the landing made, and all ran to meet the monk. Old Odille and the venerable Bishopess found again on that day their young limbs of girlhood. Loysik was given hardly time to alight from his mule. It was a pell-mell of arms, hands, heads around the respected old man. Whom was he to embrace first? He knew not whose caresses to respond to. After a while the tempest of tenderness subsided. Calm was restored. Joy no longer choked their throats. Conversation started on the way to the monastery, and Loysik narrated to his friends what he learned concerning the tortures of Queen Brunhild. He informed them of the confirmation of the charter of Clotaire I by Clotaire II. "And lastly," Loysik proceeded to say, "upon my return from Ryonne, I called upon the Bishop of Chalon. The confirmation of the charter by Clotaire II was a good deal, but that was not all that was needed. There were still some formalities to fulfill." "Brother Loysik," put in Ronan, "we heard from the Bishop of Chalon. It came about this way: After the departure of Brunhild's men-at-arms, whom we released upon receipt of the orders you sent us when you escaped death at the monster's hands, what should the archdeacon do but have the audacity to return at the head of about fifty of his tonsured fraternity, together with as many poor slaves of the bishopric. The slaves and the tonsured friars were armed at haphazard, and bore before their clerical troop a cross in lieu of a banner; they approached bravely to declare war to us, if we refused to obey the orders of the bishop, and to allow him to place our goods into his episcopal pockets."