ul miracle what terrible punishment he reserves for the wicked
who wrong him in the person of his poor hand-maids. Charles, the chief
of the Franks, contemner of all divine laws, desolator of the Church,
devastator of faithful women, had the sacrilegious audacity of bestowing
upon a band of his warriors the possession of this abbey, a patrimony of
God. The chief of these adventurers summoned me outrageously to vacate
this monastery, adding that if I did not obey, he would attack us by
main force at daybreak. In order to be nearer to their damnable work,
these accursed men camped over night behind one of the approaches of the
abbey. But the eye of the Lord watched over us. The Almighty has known
how to defend us against the ravishing wolf. During the night the
cataracts of heaven opened with a frightful crash. The waters of the
ponds, miraculously swollen, swallowed up the sacrilegious warriors. Not
one of them escaped the punishment of heaven! It was a terrible prodigy!
Red lights shimmered at the bottom of the waves as if a mouth of hell
had opened to recover its detestable prey. The justice of the Lord being
accomplished, the waters again became calm and limpid, and peacefully
returned to their bed. So that, after the deluge the white dove of peace
and hope winged its flight out of the holy ark. This letter, oh, my
venerable father in Christ, is to notify you of the miracle. This fresh
proof of the omnipotence of the Lord will serve to edify, comfort,
console and delight all pious, and terrify the impious. I close asking
your apostolic benediction."

* * * * *

After Ricarik had finished reading this pious letter he again said to
the abbess: "Madam, may it please you to sign."

Meroflede took the pen and wrote at the bottom, "MEROFLEDE, ABBESS OF
MERIADEK," after which she said with a satanic leer: "The Bishop of
Nantes is a skilful man; he will know how to make the miracle tell; a
century hence people will speak of the prodigy to which the virgins of
the convent of Meriadek owed their deliverance." An instant later she
said distractedly: "The fires of hell are burning in my veins!"

"What, madam, are you still thinking of Berthoald? How strong an
impression must he have made upon you!"

"What I feel for that man is a mixture of contempt, hatred and amorous
frenzy.... I am frightened at my own feelings.... No other man ever
inspired me with such a passion!"

"There is a very simple