n his
suite, he motioned to the female slave that she withdraw, and laughing,
observed to Amael: "Charles likes to show himself accessible to his
subjects."

"And above all to the female ones," retorted the aged Breton. "But I
know that the priest's holy-water sprinkler will readily absolve you of
all your sins."

"Oh, the pagan of a Breton; the pagan of a Breton!" murmured the Emperor
as he hobbled along and presently entered the basilica of
Aix-la-Chapelle, contiguous to the palace.

Vortigern and his grandfather were both dazzled by the indescribable
magnificence of the temple, where all the attendants at the imperial
palace were now gathered. At a distance Vortigern discerned, seated near
the choir and among the numerous concubines of Charles, the Emperor's
daughters and grand-daughters, clad in brilliant apparel, with the
blonde and charming Thetralde close to her sister Hildrude. The Emperor
took his accustomed seat at the chanter's desk among the sumptuously
dressed choristers. One of these respectfully offered the Emperor an
ebony baton, with which he beat time and gave the signal for the several
chants in the liturgy. A little before the end of each stanza Charles,
by way of signal, would raise his shrill voice and emit a gutteral cry,
so strange and weird, that, on one of these occasions, Vortigern, whose
eyes had accidentally encountered the large blue eyes of Thetralde
obstinately fixed upon him, could hardly keep from laughing outright. So
ridiculous was the figure cut by the Emperor, that despite the imposing
appearance of the ceremony and despite the embarrassment into which the
glances of Thetralde threw him, the youth's sense of decorum was
severely taxed.

The mass being over, Charles said to Amael: "Well, now, seigneur Breton,
admit that, at a pinch, however much of a fighter I may be, I would make
a passable clerk and a good chaunter."

"I am not skilled in such matters. Yet I am free to tell you that, as a
singer, the cries you uttered were frequently more discordant than those
of the sea-gulls along our Brittany beach. Moreover, to me it looks as
if the head of an Empire should have better things to do than to sing
mass."

"You will ever remain a barbarian and an idolater," cried the Emperor,
stepping out of the basilica. At that moment, and still under the
portico of the monumental building, a dignitary of the court pushed
himself forward and bowing low, said to Charles:

"August Prince,