"The Emperor arrives all alone and dismounts. 'Where are my daughters?' he calls out impatiently to the Grand Nomenclator of his table who happens to be superintending the preparations for the supper. The Grand Nomenclator answers in great embarrassment: 'August Emperor, allow me to go and announce your arrival to the Princesses; they have withdrawn to the upper chambers in order to take some rest while waiting for supper.' 'I shall go myself and see them,' replies Charles, saying which, he clambers up the stairs. Old Vulcan surprising Venus and Mars at their amorous escapade, could not have been more furious than was the august Emperor when he surprised his daughters in the arms of their gallants. The Grand Nomenclator having remained near the door of the staircase soon heard an infernal racket in the chambers above. The irate Charles was plying his hunting whip right and left over the two amorous couples. A profound silence ensued thereupon. The Emperor having the habit of not noising such things about came down again, calm in appearance, but pale with rage, and—"
Octave's narrative was at this point suddenly interrupted by tumultuous cries that proceeded from the pavilion. Slaves were seen rushing out of the building with lighted torches in their hands, and immediately the shrill voice of Charles himself was heard calling out:
"To horse! My daughter Thetralde has lost her way in the forest! She has not returned to the palace—and she is not here in the pavilion. Take the torches—and to horse! To horse!"
"Amael, in the name of your grandson's welfare," whispered Octave precipitately in the Breton's ear, "follow me at a distance. There is just one chance left to us of saving Vortigern from the Emperor's rage." Saying this, the young Roman disappeared among the seigneurs of the court who were hastening towards their horses, while Charles, whose rage, restrained for a moment, now exploded with renewed fierceness, screeched at them:
"Look at them, gaping open-mouthed, like a herd of startled sheep! Let each one take a torch and follow one of the avenues of the forest, all the while calling out to my daughter as loud as he can. Halloa there—let someone take up a torch and ride ahead of me!"
At these words, Octave seized a torch and approached the Emperor, while other seigneurs rode rapidly off in several directions in search of the lost Thetralde. The meaning of the hurried recommendation that Octave had addressed to him a minute before flashed at this moment clear through Amael's mind. Mounting his horse at the same time that Charles and the young Roman who bore the torch did theirs, he allowed the two to take somewhat the lead of him, and then followed them at a distance, guided by the torch that Octave held aloft.
As Octave later narrated to him, the Emperor alternated between fits of rage, provoked by the freshest proof of the libertinage to which his daughters were addicted, and uneasiness at the disappearance of Thetralde. These several sentiments were given vent to by broken words that from time to time reached the ears of the young Roman who preceded Charles by only a few paces.
"My poor child!—where can she be?—Perhaps dying of cold and fear—at the bottom of some thicket, perhaps!" murmured the Emperor. Presently he would call out at the top of his voice: "Thetralde! Thetralde! Oh, she does not hear me! King of the Heavens, have pity upon me. So young—so delicate—a chilly night like this is enough to kill her. Oh, my unhappy old age, that this child might have served to console—she would not have resembled her sisters! Her fifteen year forehead was never crimsoned with an evil thought. Oh, dead! Dead, perhaps! No, no—youth is full of pranks! Besides, these daughters, all of whom I have brought up like boys, are all accustomed to fatigue. They accompany me during my long journeys. But yet, the night is so dark—and it is so chilly!" Whereupon the Emperor would again call out: "Thetralde!" and suddenly reining in his horse and listening, the Emperor of the Franks broke the silence with the sudden question: "Did you not hear a sound like the neighing of a horse?"
"I did, august Prince," answered the young Roman.
"Listen! Listen again!"