"Blood, my King!" Then the girl told all her tale. As they heard it, indignation, writ at first upon every face, gave way to nods and smiles, and murmurs of applause scarce restrained, when the end came.
"No criminal here, holy fathers, methinks; but rather a heroine!" said Gontran. Then, turning to the maid, he added:
"You hold yourself guilty; but, meseems you have been guided rather by the Hand of God. Was the widow of Bethulie guilty when she delivered her people? Yet, in my thought, your maiden modesty and fear rank you above even that noble Judith. Be comforted then; to-morrow you shall see your parents again. Now, go to rest; and God have you in His care this night." So they made ready a chamber for Bertille; and there she slept, and that right soundly.
On the next day, Gontran sent secretly to Châlon certain servants, with commands to bring the parents of Bertille to his presence. The good people were much terrified, and refused, at first, to follow the king's men, saying that the loss of their daughter had stricken them so deep in sorrow, that they would go no whither for no man—even though he be their own beloved king, Gontran. But at length they let themselves be persuaded, and went—not without fearful questioning as to what their lord the king might want with such simple folk as they.
So they came before the king at the monastery of St. Marcel, and Gontran told them that he wotted well their story, and asked them whether they were indeed fain to see their child again.
"Ah! Prince," moaned the naïve old Vulfrand, "If the dear God had but one angel in all heaven—and he lost her—dost think he would not be fain for her face again?" And Ludwige wailed an echo to that plaint. Then the king spoke much with them both, and knew that, in sooth, these two loved their daughter well.
Meanwhile, one after one, the priests and bishops were filling the chamber; but Vulfrand and Ludwige, with eyes only for the king, knew nought of this, until Gontran made a movement causing them to look round. Then, when they saw themselves in the midst of this royal assembly, they feared greatly, and Ludwige clung to her husband. But, with a smile and a gracious nod, the king reassured them, and bade them be seated upon two stools, not far from his own person. So they sat amazed, and knew not yet whether good was to befall them, or evil.
Gontran made a sign, and a great silence fell upon all. Then there entered a young page, bearing, upon a cushion of azure velvet, three small, golden crowns, the which he laid at the king's feet. Then that sainted and holy bishop, Gregory of Tours, rose from his chair in the great hall, and approached the throne. The page lifted, and put into his hands, the cushion and the three crowns. Holding them forth, Gregory turned to that august assembly.