nt for appearing unexpectedly. The Franks heard them, from amid
the heather and the brushwood, uttering shrill cries, to give warning
one to another or to alarm the enemy. The Franks advanced cautiously,
and at last arrived at the entrance of the thick wood which surrounded
Morvan's abode. He had not yet set out with the pick of the warriors he
had about him; but, at the approach of the Franks, he summoned his wife
and his domestics, and said to them: "Defend ye well this house and
these woods; as for me, I am going to march forward to collect my
people; after which to return, but not without booty and spoils." He put
on his armor, took a javelin in each hand, and mounted his horse. "Thou
seest," said he to his wife, "these javelins I brandish: I will bring
them back to thee this very day dyed with the blood of Franks.
Farewell." Setting out he pierced, followed by his men, through the
thickness of the forest, and advanced to meet the Franks.

The battle began. The large numbers of the Franks who covered the ground
for some distance dismayed the Britons, and many of them fled, seeking
where they might hide themselves. Morvan, beside himself with rage and
at the head of his most devoted followers, rushed down upon the Franks
as if to demolish them at a single stroke; and many fell beneath his
blows. He singled out a warrior of inferior grade, toward whom he made
at a gallop, and, insulting him by word of mouth, after the ancient
fashion of the Celtic warriors, cried: "Frank, I am going to give thee
my first present, a present which I have been keeping for thee a long
while, and which I hope thou wilt bear in mind;" and launched at him a
javelin which the other received on his shield. "Proud Briton," replied
the Frank, "I have received thy present, and I am going to give thee
mine." He dug both spurs into his horse's sides and galloped down upon
Morvan, who, clad though he was in a coat of mail, fell pierced by the
thrust of a lance. The Frank had but time to dismount and cut off his
head when he fell himself, mortally wounded by one of Morvan's young
warriors, but not without having, in his turn, dealt the other his
deathblow. It spreads on all sides that Morvan is dead; and the Franks
come thronging to the scene of the encounter. There is picked up and
passed from hand to hand a head all bloody and fearfully disfigured.
Ditcar the monk is called to see it, and to say whether it is that of
Morvan; but he has to wash the m