ing the boy's hair, the young girl sat down near
him on a stool, took up her distaff, began to spin and said in a low and
mysterious voice: "Do you promise to be discreet?"

"Whom do you expect I can talk to? Whom could I reveal secrets to? I
have an aversion to all the people in this place."

"Excepting myself.... Not true?"

"Yes, excepting you, Septimine.... You are the only one who inspires me
with some little confidence."

"What distrust could a little girl, born in Septimany, inspire you with?
Am not I as well as my mother, the wife of the outside porter of this
convent, a slave? When eighteen months ago you were brought to this
place and I was not yet fifteen, I was assigned to you, to entertain you
and play with you. Since then we have grown up together. You became
accustomed to me.... Is it not of course that you should have some
confidence in me?"

"You just told me you had some hope to give me.... What hope can you
give me? I want to hear?"

"Do you first promise to be discreet?"

"Be easy on that score. I shall be discreet."

"Promise me also not to begin to weep again, because I shall have to
speak about your father, a painful subject to you."

"I shall not weep, Septimine."

"It is now eighteen months since your father, King Thierry, died on his
domain in Compiegne, and the steward of the palace, that wicked Charles
Martel, had you taken to this place and kept imprisoned ... poor dear
innocent boy!"

"My father always said to me: 'My little Childeric, you will be a king
like myself, you will have dogs and falcons to hunt with, handsome
horses, chariots to ride in, slaves to serve you'; and yet I have none
of these things here. Oh, God! Oh, God! How unhappy I am!"

"Are you going to start weeping again?"

"No, Septimine; no, my little friend."

"That wicked Charles Martel had you brought to this convent, as I was
saying, in order to reign in your place, as he virtually reigned in the
place of your father, King Thierry."

"But there are in this country of Gaul enough dogs, falcons, horses and
slaves for that Charles to have an abundance and I also. Is it not so?"

"Yes ... if to reign means simply to have all these things ... but I,
poor girl, do not understand these things. I only know that your father
had friends who are enemies of Charles Martel, and that they would like
to see you out of this convent. That is the secret that I had for you."

"And I, Septimine, would also like to be o