"Yes, I will bless you--provided always you prostrate yourself before the bishop of the Lord, and you enrich the Church!" "I shall have a chapel built in your honor on this very spot, holy bishop, in order to glorify this miracle--" "That is far from enough--no, that is not enough. Listen, count, listen attentively: "Neroweg and his leudes fled like cowards from the episcopal villa when it was attacked by the Vagres. "I order that the count relinquish one quarter of his goods to me, the bishop of Clermont; I order that he rebuild the episcopal villa, which he allowed the Vagres to set on fire, and that he richly ornament it. "I furthermore order that Count Neroweg pursue the Vagres without let, that he capture and put them to death--all of them, but especially their chief and a relapsed hermit, a renegade, an idolater who accompanies the accursed men. "Finally, I order that the count burn to death, over a slow fire, a certain Moabite woman, a witch, an infernal wench, who once was bound to me by the bonds of holy matrimony. "Let Count Neroweg carry out these, my orders; only at that price shall his sins be remitted, and on the day of his death I shall admit him into paradise. "That is the message that the Lord entrusted me to bear to you. Amen!" Neroweg and a few of the leudes rose upon their knees open-mouthed. As they did so they perceived two bearded Vagres with their bows between their teeth crawling like serpents along a large branch in order to reach a spot from which, skilful archers that they were, they could take deliberate aim at their foes and nail them to the sod. "Treason!" cried the count jumping to his feet and pointing to the tree. "Treason! The Vagres are there, hidden in the tree branches!" Hardly had the count said these words when a volley of arrows flew from the tree-top and riddled his troop. Finding themselves discovered, the daring Vagres hesitated not one instant to engage in battle. So accurate was the aim of the archers that every arrow found its quiver in the flesh of a foe. "This is for you, Neroweg!" cried Ronan from the branch on which he was perched. "This is for you, the descendant of the Terrible Eagle! There goes the Vagre's arrow!" Unfortunately the arrow's head was flattened out against the iron casque of the count. The other Vagres who, until now had remained hidden in the bushes, rushed forward with loud yells and intrepidly attacked the troop of Neroweg. The combat became general. Who were the vanquishers in that combat? The Vagres or the Franks? Malediction! After a stubborn struggle, almost all the Vagres were slain. A few who escaped the sword and others who were too severely wounded to flee remained prisoners in the hands of Neroweg. Ronan, the Vagre, was among the latter. The superiority of arms prevailed over mere courage. And Loysik? And little Odille? And the bishopess?