"Our feasts in Vagrery were nothing compared with this!" exclaimed Ronan. "Not so, Master of the Hounds?"
"Do you remember, among others of our then sumptuous repasts, the famous supper at our lair in the defile of Allange?"
"Where Bishop Cautin officiated as our cook?"
"Odille, do you remember that strange night when I saw you for the first time, on the occasion of the burning down of the villa of my then husband, the bishop?"
"Certainly, Fulvia, I do remember it; and also the open-handedness with which the Vagres distributed the booty among the poor."
"Loysik, it was during that night that I first learned that you and I were brothers."
"Ah, Ronan, how very brave was not our father Karadeucq! What courage did he not display together with our friend the Master of the Hounds in order to liberate us from the ergastula in the burg of Count Neroweg!"
"Do you remember? Do you all remember?"—once that subject was broached, these questions flew inexhaustible from the lips of the old friends. Thus Ronan, Loysik, the Master of the Hounds, Odille, the Bishopess, all of whom sat together at a table, chatted merrily, while the younger guests enjoyed chattering about the present. The joy was great and general on that evening at the monastery of Charolles.
In the middle of the celebration one of the monk laborers said to a companion:
"What has become of our two priests, Placidus and Felibien? Their absence alarms me."