“You’ll deafen me, nephew,” said the Emperor. “I shall certainly not send you on a mission you have just condemned. My friend Ganelon shall carry my wishes to the King of Saragossa. To him will I entrust the gauntlet and truncheon.” “That is indeed a wise choice,” said Roland, laughing. “You will nowhere find a more cautious ambassador.” “Enough said! By my beard, nephew mine, you will provoke me too far presently. Be seated, and wait until I bid you speak.” “Sire,” said Ganelon, “from such a mission one does not always return. I recommend to your care my son Baldwin, who will one day be a brave warrior.” Charlemagne handed the gauntlet to the Count of Mayence, who let it fall on the ground. “A bad omen!” said the Franks, seeing it. “Roland may be right after all!” “You will hear of me before long, gentlemen,” said Ganelon, with an ill-favoured smile. Then, furnished with truncheon and letter, he made ready to set out on his mission. Ganelon and Blancandrin, followed by the Saracen body-guard, journeyed for three days side by side. The Pagan was not slow to perceive in a moment the hatred entertained by the Count of Mayence for Roland, and he rejoiced to see it. Let us hear what they are talking about. “Whence comes it,” said Blancandrin, “that your sovereign, instead of seeking an alliance with us, made war on us so fiercely?” “It is Roland who is always egging him on. But for him, we should long since have returned to France.” They reached the camp of Marsillus. Fifty thousand Saracens surrounded the King of Saragossa, but they maintained perfect silence, for fear of losing a syllable of what was going to be said. “May Allah and Mahomet preserve you, beloved sovereign! We have borne your message, and we bring back to you one of the noblest peers of the Court of France, to decide with you on peace or war.” “I am prepared to give him an immediate audience.” Marsillus and Ganelon remained shut up together for two hours--two hours, which laid the foundation of ages of regret. When the tent was o o re-opened the ‘King of Saragossa came out, leaning on the arm of the French envoy. Had Roland come instead of Ganelon, that would never have happened. “Gentlemen,” said Marsillus to his nobles, “welcome the preserver of Spain! This lord, although a Christian, is a true friend to us, and I desire that he be treated as such.” [Illustration: 248] A Saracen advanced, drew his sword from its sheath, and presented it to Ganelon. “This weapon is the best in the world,” said he. “Its jewelled hilt alone is estimated at thirty thousand bezants, at the lowest, and yet the blade is even more valuable. Accept it, and may it serve you well against Roland.” [Illustration: 250] “I will put it to the test,” said the Count of Mayence, coolly; and the traitor and unbeliever kissed each other.