that
form the boundaries and frontier of Brittany. Guided by one of the
apprentices who was familiar with the surroundings of the abbey, the
fugitives had struck the old Roman road. It led to Nantes, at the
boundary line of Armorica, and in the neighborhood of which, seven
centuries earlier, Julius Caesar established several entrenched camps in
order to protect his military colonies. Accustomed through his
profession of war to measure distances, Amael calculated that by
marching until sunset, resting an hour, and then resuming their tramp,
it would be possible to reach Brittany at the end of the next day.
Septimine sat near Rosen-Aer and Amael, and the apprentices, spread out
upon the grass, had just finished their frugal meal. The old goldsmith
having also repaired his forces, pulled out of the pocket of his blouse
a little packet that was carefully wrapped up in a piece of smooth skin.
The young folks followed the old man's movements with curiosity, and to
their great surprise they saw him take from its wrapping the little
abbatial crosier of silver, at which he had for some time been
chiseling. There were also two burins in the package. Noticing the look
of astonishment on the faces of the apprentices, he said to them:

"You seem surprised, my children, to see that I carried this jewel from
the abbey. It is not the value of the metal that tempted me."

"I believe that, Master Bonaik; the little crosier has but little silver
in it. But we still wonder why you brought it along."

"Well, my boys, I love my trade.... I shall have no further
opportunities to exercise it during the remaining days of my life.... I
preserved my two best burins.... I mean to chisel this crosier so nicely
that by working upon it a little every day I shall consume the rest of
my life at it. It will be the masterpiece of my long career."

"You congratulated us upon our foresight, Master Bonaik, because we
thought of the pouch of wine and the provisions. But we must admit that
your foresight exceeds ours."

"Good father, and you, my friends," said Amael, addressing himself to
the goldsmith and his apprentices, "please draw near; I wish you to hear
what I have to say to my mother. I have committed a wrong, I should now
have courage to make a public confession ... and beseech forgiveness."

Rosen-Aer sighed and listened with sad and severe curiosity to her son's
account of his conduct and career since she saw him as a boy. Looking at
her with