"No, little Odille! it is barely midnight; I know not what may be happening at the burg; all the Franks who were watching us left their posts before our prison and followed one of their men who came after them; all ran towards the burg brandishing their arms."
"Ronan, my brother, listen in the direction of the seigniorial mansion—it seems to me I hear an odd noise proceeding from that direction."
"I hear tumultuous cries—the clash of arms."
"Ronan, the Vagres must have come to our deliverance, the burg is on fire!"
"The fire spreads—look—look—it is as clear as day in front of the prison."
"A man is running this way—why, it is Karadeucq, our father!"
"Loysik! Ronan! Oh! my sons."
"You here, father?"
"Ronan, Loysik, all of you within, join me to break down the iron railing."
"Alas! we cannot budge—our feet are all sore—we have been put to the torture!"