"Are we not now in the hands of our grandmother's enemies?"
"Be not afraid; she will soon come with another army and set us free; she will kill Clotaire. Are you not hungry?"
"No! Oh, no! I am neither hungry nor thirsty."
"The sun has long been up; they will surely soon bring us something to eat. Grandmother was right; war is tiresome and uncomfortable, but only when one is not a prisoner. But how Merovee does sleep! Wake him up!"
"Oh, brother, let him sleep quietly; perhaps he also thinks, as you did, that he is in our palace at Chalon."
"So much the worse! We woke up—I do not want him to sleep any longer—why should he?"
"Corbe, you can not have a good heart."
"Sigebert! They are opening the door—they are bringing us something to eat."
Indeed, the door opened. Four personages stepped into the house. Two of them were clad in jackets of hides, and one of these carried a roll of rope. Clotaire II and Warnachaire accompanied the two men. The duke had his battle armor on, the King a long light blue silk robe bordered with ermine.
"Seigneur King," said Duke Warnachaire in a low voice, "will you not wait for the return of Constable Herpon?"