ths, and whatever may have been her intentions, she
proved so willing to console herself that a very short time elapsed
before she was the wife of Merowig. Strangely enough the Bishop of
Rouen at the time was the same Pretextatus who had been Merowig's
godfather at his baptism. "Proprium mihi," he says (in the history of
Gregory of Tours) "esse videbatur, quod filio meo Merovecho erat, quem
de lavacro regeneratione excepi." This kindly and somewhat weak
prelate, whose natural sympathies seem invariably to have proved too
strong for his political prudence, was prevailed upon to perform the
ceremony of marrying to Merowig the widow of his father's murdered
brother. But it was not merely canonical law, or even certain
sentimental precepts, that were offended by a union that was later on
to cost its celebrant his life. The suspicions of Hilperik were
instantly aroused. Brunhilda's young son had already been accepted as
their King by the Austrasian warriors at Metz. Now Brunhilda herself
had taken what was evidently the second step in a deep-laid plot to
reassert her own superiority and ruin Neustria. It can have scarcely
needed the hatred of Fredegond, both for her natural rival and for the
son of Audowere, to urge Hilperik to speedy action. He hastened to
Rouen with such swiftness that the newly-married pair were entirely
taken by surprise in the first few months of their new happiness. They
fled for sanctuary to the little wooden church of St. Martin, whose
timbers rested on the very ramparts of the town. No entreaties nor
cajoleries at first availed to make them leave their refuge. At last,
they agreed to come out if the King would swear not to separate them.
His oath was a crafty one as it is given by Gregory of Tours: "Si,
inquit, voluntas Dei fuerit, ipse has separare non conaretur," and, of
course, the "will of God" happened to be the wish of Hilperik, and
they were safely separated as soon as possible. For after two or three
days of feasting and apparent reconciliation he hurried off with the
unwilling bridegroom in his train, and left Brunhilda under a strict
guard at Rouen.

[Footnote 4: But "Ipse vero, _simulans_ ad matrem suam ire velle,"
says Gregory (H.F. V. 2), "Rothomago petiit et ibi Brunechildae
reginae conjungitur...."]

The very first incident that followed this unhappy marriage was the
siege of Soissons by the men of Neustria, and in this coincidence the
King saw further confirmation of the plots of B