"The leudes! The Frankish warriors!"
"There are seven of them! They are on horseback! They are leading a gang of chained men! Up, my Vagres! Death to the leudes! Freedom to the slaves!"
"Death to the leudes! Freedom to the slaves!" shouted the Vagres and ran to their arms.
"The Franks have come to capture me and take me back to the burg of the count!" cried little Odille. "Oh, Ronan, protect me!"
"There will not be one of them left alive to carry you back!"
"Ronan, no imprudence!" said the hermit. "These horsemen may be only a scouting party riding ahead of a numerous troop. Send out scouters against scouters; keep the bulk of your men in reserve and have them entrench themselves behind the wagons."
"Monk, you are right. You talk like an experienced soldier. You must have made war?"
"A little—occasionally—whenever it was necessary to protect the weak against the strong."
"Frankish warriors!" cried Cautin clasping his hands with a triumphant air. "Friends! Allies! I am saved! Help, dear brothers in Christ! This way, my beloved sons in God! Fall upon this rabble. Deliver me from the hands of the Philistines! This way, my—"
Giving a jerk to the rope around the neck of the holy man, Ronan suddenly checked his flow of speech by drawing the noose tight.