Ronan and the hermit-laborer were laid upon the grass, with little Odille seated beside them. On her knees near the young girl, the bishopess tended her wounds. The Vagres and the revolted slaves stood in a circle around. Neroweg stood pinioned, but savage and resolute of countenance--those barbarians and thieves, however cowardly in their vengeance, are, it must be admitted even by us, their enemies, endowed with a certain savage bravery--he cast an intrepid look at the Vagres. Old Karadeucq, who had preserved his vigor, looked youthed by fully twenty years. The joy of having saved his sons and of having Neroweg in his power seemed to impart new life to him. His eyes sparkled, his cheeks were aflame, he contemplated the count with greedy looks. "We shall be revenged," said Ronan, "you will be revenged, little Odille." "Ronan, I ask no vengeance for myself; in our prison I often said to the good hermit-laborer: 'If ever I should be free again, I shall not return evil for evil.'" "Yes, sweet child--as sweet as pardon. But you need not fear, our father will not kill that man unarmed," answered Loysik. "Will he not kill him, brother? Aye, by the devil! Our father will kill the Frank as sure as he put us both to the torture, and that he beat and violated this poor child! Blood and massacre, no mercy!" "No, Ronan, our father will not kill a defenseless man." "You are long about killing me!" put in the captured count. "What are you waiting for! And you, accursed mountebank, the chief of these bandits, why do you look at me in that way in silence?" "Because, Neroweg, in contemplating you as I do, I am thinking of the past. I am conjuring up family recollections in which one of your ancestors, the Terrible Eagle, is mixed." "He was a great chief," answered the Frank proudly; "he was a great King, one of the bravest warriors of my lineage. His name is still glorified in Germany--my shame remains hidden at the bottom of my grave--if you dig a grave for me, cursed dogs!" "It happened more than three hundred years ago; a great battle was delivered on the banks of the Rhine between the Gauls and the Franks. One of my ancestors fought with yours--the Terrible Eagle. It was a desperate struggle; it was not merely a fight between soldier and soldier, it was a conflict between two races that were fated foes! My ancestor had a presentiment that the stock of Neroweg would be fatal to ours, and he sought to kill him in order to extinguish his family. Fate willed it otherwise. Alas, my ancestor's forebodings did not deceive him. This is the second time that our two families meet across the ages. You had my two sons put to the torture, and to-day they were to be executed upon your orders. Now you are in my power; you are about to die, and your stock will be extinct." A flash of joy lighted the Frank's eyes, and he answered with a firm voice: "Kill me!" "My Vagres, this man belongs to me--it is my part of the booty."