xicated me, I believed what he said, and did not try
to run away. He himself, in order to confirm my purpose, treated me at
his best; he even promised me to have a letter that I wrote to you reach
you through another Jew who was to go to Burgundy."

"The man did not keep his promise," said Rosen-Aer. "No tidings from you
ever reached me."

"I am not surprised at his breach of promise. That Jew was greedy and
faithless. He took me to Duke Bodegesil. That Frank did indeed raise
superb horses on the immense meadows of his domain, and one of the halls
of his burg, an ancient Roman castle, was fitted out with splendid
armors. But the Jew had lied to me on the duke's character. He was a
violent, cruel man. Still, struck almost immediately after my arrival at
the manner in which I broke in a savage colt that had until then been
the terror of the stable slaves, he treated me with less severity than
he did my Gallic or Frankish companions, because, you know, mother,
that, thanks to the ups and downs of the times, a large number of the
descendants of the conquerors of the Gauls have fallen into poverty, and
from poverty into slavery. Bodegesil was as cruel towards his slaves of
his own German extraction as towards those of the Gallic race. Always on
horseback, always busy furbishing and handling weapons, I now steadily
pursued an idea that was destined to be realized. The renown of Charles,
the steward of the palace, had reached my ears; I had heard some of the
Frankish friends of Bodegesil say that Charles, being compelled to
defend Gaul in the north against the Frisians and in the south against
the Arabs, and finding himself ill-supported by the old lay and clerical
seigneurs, who furnished him little money and only small forces, gave a
friendly reception to adventurers, several of whom by bravely fighting
under his orders, had arrived at unexpected wealth. I was twenty years
old when I learned that Charles was approaching Poitiers for the purpose
of driving back the Arabians, who then threatened to invade the region.
The moment, long dreamed of by my ambition, had arrived. One day I took
the handsomest suit of armor from Bodegesil's racks, I sequestered a
sword, a battle-axe, a lance and a buckler. When night fell I picked out
of the stable the finest and most spirited horse. I put on the armor,
and rode rapidly away from the castle. I wished to join Charles and
decided to conceal my extraction and pass for the son of a Franki