"Such is the justice of God—the crime enabled Victoria to bequeath to the admiration of posterity a noble example of patriotism and abnegation! After the death of her son and grandson, and being urgently requested by the people, the army and the senate to govern Gaul—Victoria refused. Aye," added Loysik in answer to a gesture of surprise that escaped Brunhild, "aye, Victoria refused twice. She designated the men whom she considered worthiest of being chosen chiefs of the country, and rendered to them the all-powerful support of her own popularity and the advice of her exceptional wisdom for the good of the country. Victoria continued to live modestly in her retreat, and so long as her life lasted, Gaul remained powerful and prosperous, rid both of the Romans and the Franks. Victoria died. Her death was the climax of a series of crimes of which her son and grandson were the first victims. The illustrious woman died poisoned."
"Ha! Ha!" cried Brunhild breaking forth anew in a burst of sardonic laughter. "Monk—monk—ever the justice of God!"
"Ever the justice of God—never was the death of the greatest geniuses that ever shed splendor upon the world wept as the death of Victoria was wept! One would have thought it was the funeral of Gaul! In the largest cities, in the obscurest villages, tears flowed from all eyes. Everywhere these words were heard, broken with sobs: 'We have lost our mother!' The soldiers, those rough warriors of the legions of the Rhine, whose faces a hundred battles had bronzed—those soldiers wept like children. The mourning was universal; imposing as death itself. At Mayence, where Victoria died, the spectacle of sorrow was sublime. Reclining upon an ivory couch draped in gold cloth, Victoria lay in state a week. Men, women, children, the army, the senate crowded the street of her house. Each came to contemplate for a last time in pious grief the august features of her who was the dearest, the most admired glory of Gaul—"
"Monk!" cried Brunhild seizing the arm of the venerable old man and seeking to drag him after her; "the executioners must be waiting—"
Loysik exerted only the force of inertia to resist the Queen; he remained motionless and continued in a calm and solemn voice:
"The mortal remains of Victoria the Great were placed upon the pyre and disappeared in a flame, pure, brilliant and radiant as the life that she had lived. Finally, in order to do honor to her virile genius across the ages, the people of Gaul decreed to her the sovereign title that she had ever declined out of her sublime modesty. It is now more than four centuries ago since that bronze was cast in the effigy of Victoria, Emperor."
As he uttered these last words, Loysik took the medal in his hands. Brunhild, whose rage now reached a paroxysmal pitch, snatched the august image from the old monk's hands, dashed it on the floor, and trampled upon it in blind rage.
"Oh, Victoria! Victoria!" cried Loysik, his face beaming with exalted enthusiasm. "Oh, woman Emperor! Heroine of Gaul! I can now die! Your life will have been to Brunhild the punishment for her crimes!" And turning toward the Queen, who continued a prey to the frenzied vertigo that had seized her, he exclaimed triumphantly: "The glory of Victoria, like the bronze that you are trampling under foot, defies your impotent rage!"
At this point Warnachaire burst into the chamber crying:
"Madam—madam—disastrous tidings! A second messenger has just arrived from the army. By a skilful manoeuvre Clotaire II surrounded our German allies; the prospect of booty carried them over to the enemy's banners; he is now advancing with forced marches upon Chalon. Your presence, together with that of the young princes, in the army, is indispensible at this critical moment. I have just issued the necessary orders for your immediate departure. Come, madam, come! The safety of your kingdoms, perhaps your own life, is at stake—as you know, the son of Fredegonde is implacable!"