"And now, before a last adieu," said Gaëlo placing a sealed roll in the old skipper's hands, "keep these parchments. You will there find the narrative of the adventures that have led to my wedding Shigne. You will also find there some details on the customs of the Northman pirates, and of the stratagem by the aid of which my companion and myself seized the abbey of St. Denis. If, obedient to the behest of our ancestor Joel, you or your son should some day write a chronicle intended to continue the history of our family, you may narrate my life and join to the narrative the iron arrowhead that you extracted from my wound. Our names will thus be handed down to our descendants."
"Gaëlo, your wishes shall be fulfilled," answered the old skipper, deeply moved. "However obscure my life has until now been, I always had it in mind to narrate the events that have happened since the Northman pirates made their first appearance under the walls of Paris. I shall now do so, bringing the narrative down to the marriage of Rolf with the daughter of Charles the Simple, and I shall supplement the story with the notes that you have furnished me."
After a last and tender embrace, Gaëlo and the Beautiful Shigne left the house of Eidiol. Their two holkers—one manned by the champions of Gaëlo, the other by the Buckler Maidens—awaited the couple at the port of St. Landry. With sails spread and swollen to the wind, the two light craft speedily descended the Seine and took the azure route of the swans across the billows of the northern sea.
EPILOGUE
I, Eidiol, wrote the preceding chronicle shortly after the departure of Gaëlo. I used the notes he left me in the matters that relate to his previous adventures, to the life of the Northman pirates and to the Buckler Maidens.
The day after Gaëlo's departure I sailed to Rouen to meet my beloved Jeanike. With joy I embraced her two children, Yvonne and Germain the forester. After the tender pleasures of our first meeting Jeanike narrated to me her conversation with Ghisèle, the conversation of the latter with her father, and lastly the conversation of both with the Archbishop of Rouen at the castle of Compiegne. My daughter had overheard every word, and I have thus been enabled to reproduce with accuracy all the facts connected with the marriage of the pirate Rolf and Ghisèle, the ill-starred and now expiring daughter of King Charles.
I finished this narrative to-day, the eleventh day of August, in the year 912, a happy day, because this morning I entrusted the fate of Anne the Sweet to Rustic the Gay.
Alas, only my poor wife Martha was wanting to complete the joy at our hearth.
THE END.