"Yes, madam; but only after the war is ended, or, rather, I expect it after the victory that I shall win over Clotaire II, when I deliver him to you tied hands and feet."
"Warnachaire!" cried the Queen thrilling with wild delight at the thought of having Fredegonde's son in her power; "if you deliver Clotaire a prisoner in my hands, I shall challenge you to express a wish that Brunhild will not gratify, and—" but recollecting herself, she suddenly stopped short, cast a somber, scrutinizing glance at the mayor of the palace and proceeded: "Can it be your purpose to spread a snare for me and lull my suspicions? Warnachaire, if your purpose is to betray me—"
"Madam, you look upon me as a traitor. If you but ring that bell, instantly your chamberlains and equerries will rush in and kill me before your very eyes. So that you may consider me dead. But who is the man whom you do not suspect? Whom will you take for your general? Duke Alethee, perchance, or Duke Roccon?"
"No! Neither the one nor the other!"
"Sigowald, perhaps?"
"You are mocking! He is my personal enemy."
"Perhaps Eubelan?"
"I have not yet forgotten his criminal relations with Arnolfe and Pepin—the two traitors! He no doubt is considering how to follow their example, and to go over to the enemy. No; I will not trust Eubelan! He also is an enemy."
"Yet, madam, they are all capable of captaining the army; they are all experienced and brave chiefs."
"Yes, but I have not proposed to kill them—at least they do not know that I had any such intention—while, as to you, I have ordered your death, and what is more to the purpose, you are aware of it."