"Do you imagine that your palace and your city of Aix-la-Chapelle, this favorite residence of yours, is all there is of Gaul?"
"What do you say of Gaul! I have just traversed the North of those regions. I have been as far as Boulogne, where I had a lighthouse erected for the protection of the ships. Moreover—" but breaking off, the Emperor pointed in the direction of that portion of the courtyard that the balcony commanded, saying: "Look yonder—listen!"
Amael saw near one of the galleries a young man, robust and tall of stature, wearing a thick black beard, and clad in the robes of a bishop. Two of his slaves had just brought out to him a gentle horse, as befits a prelate, and led the animal near a stone bench in order to aid their master in mounting. But the young bishop, having noticed two women looking at him from a nearby casement, and no doubt wishing to give them a proof of his agility, impatiently ordered his attendants to take the horse from the bench. Thereupon, disdaining even the help of a stirrup, he seized the animal's mane with one hand and gave so vigorous a jump that he had great difficulty to keep his saddle, lest he fall over on the other side. The perilous leap attracted the Emperor's attention to the prelate, and he called out to him in his shrill, squeaky voice: "Eh! Eh! You, there, my nimble prelate. One word with you, if you please!" The young man looked up, and recognizing Charles, respectfully bowed his head.
"You are quick and agile; you have good feet, good arms and a good eye. The quiet of our empire is every day disturbed by wars. We stand in great need of 'clerks' of your kidney. You shall stay with us and share with us our fatigues, seeing you can mount a horse so nimbly. I shall bestow your bishopric upon someone who is less sprightly. You shall take your place among my men-at-arms."
The young bishop lowered his head in confusion. He looked at the Emperor with a suppliant eye. But the latter's attention was speedily drawn from the discomfited prelate by the distant barking of a large pack of hounds, and the reveille of hunting trumps.
"It is my hunting-train," exclaimed the Emperor. "We shall depart for the hunt, seigneur Breton. This evening we shall continue our chat. Return with your grandson to your apartment. You will be served the noon meal. After that you will both join me. I am curious to see whether this youngster is as good a horseman as report makes him. Moreover, although the exercise of the chase is a frivolous pastime, you may, perhaps, find that Charles the Fighter makes good use even of frivolities. Be off now to dinner—and then, to horse!"
CHAPTER VII.
TO THE HUNT.
Octave had come to take Amael and his grandson to the noon meal. While they walked towards one of the courtyards of the palace, in order to join the hunting suite of the Emperor, the young Roman, profiting by a moment when the aged Breton could not overhear him, said in a low voice to Vortigern:
"Lucky boy. I am convinced that two pairs of eyes, one black as ebony, the other of azure blue, have been peering through the crowd of courtiers—" but interrupting the flow of his words at the sight of the deep crimson that suffused the lad's visage, he proceeded to say: "Wait till I have finished before you grow purple. Well, as I was saying, two beautiful blue eyes and two equally beautiful black ones have, more than once, sought to detect in the crowd of courtiers—Whom?—the venerable figure of your grandfather, because there is nothing so attractive as a long white beard. So much is that so that this forenoon, at mass, the blonde Thetralde and the brunette Hildrude quite forgot the thread of the divine service in order to contemplate incessantly—your grandfather, who was seated next to you. Come, now, you are blushing again. Are you, perchance, afraid lest the fascinating daughters of the Emperor fall in love with the centenarian?"