"This monk is sent by the King of the Franks," answered the Breton chief; "I do not yet know whether he brings peace or war."
Noblede looked at her husband with increasing astonishment, when the abbot, considering the moment favorable to obtain the desired answer from Morvan, said:
"I am to return immediately. What answer shall I carry to Louis the Pious?"
"You cannot resume your journey without taking some rest," Noblede hastened to observe, while, with her eyes, she interrogated her husband, who seemed to have relapsed into incertitude. "It will be time enough to depart early in the morning. Remain here over night to recover your strength."
"No, no!" exclaimed the abbot with impatience, fearing the influence of the Gallic woman upon her husband. "I return immediately. Shall I take to Louis the Pious words of peace or of war? I must have a categoric answer."
The Breton chief, however, rose from his seat, and walking towards the door of the apartment answered Witchaire:
"I shall use the few remaining hours of the night to think the matter over; to-morrow you will have my answer." Saying this, and despite the insistence of the abbot upon an immediate answer, Morvan left the guest's room, accompanied by Noblede.
A few minutes later, Morvan, his wife, Vortigern and Caswallan, assembled at a secluded spot, under the spreading branches of a tall oak tree not far from the house, to consider the subject of Abbot Witchaire's errand to Brittany.
"What does this messenger of the King of the Franks want?" asked Vortigern of Morvan.
"If we consent to pay tribute to Louis the Pious and to recognize him as our sovereign, we shall escape an implacable war. I know not what answer to make. I hesitate before the prospect of the disasters that will attend a new struggle—the massacres, the fires."