ainst each other as
strangers and enemies. Now they were face to face and heart to heart
after the cruel striving--after years of separation. What wonder, then,
that cause and country were forgotten!

And in spite of cause and country and king and kinsman, the two boyhood
comrades could not be induced to oppose each other further. Happily for
all concerned, the trouble between Charlemagne and Guerin was settled in
a few days in peaceful conference.

Roland and Oliver, having thus found each other, refused to be separated
again; and the good emperor honored the redoubtable Oliver by making him
one of his peers.

No longer was Roland undisputedly first in valor at the court of
Charlemagne. Oliver had so grown in prowess since his first encounter
with Roland that he was now the peer of his friend in every point.
Indeed, so exactly equal were the achievements of these two that from
their story has come the well-known expression "a Roland for an Oliver,"
meaning, matching a deed with a deed as great. There was this difference
between them, however: whereas Roland was fearless to recklessness and
proud and presumptuous to his own destruction, Oliver was wise,
discreet, and modest. Yet this very difference seemed to bind them more
closely to each other. But there was a yet stronger and closer tie
between them in Alda, the beautiful sister of Oliver.

After their grandfather, Guerin, had repented of his revolt and again
become submissive to the emperor, Alda came with her brother to the
court of Charlemagne. Of all the ladies in the land she was the most
beautiful, and the gentleness which distinguished her brother was hers
in a marked degree. Many a mighty knight strove to win her favor; but
though she was kind to all, her smiles were reserved for her brother's
comrade, and erelong she became his promised wife.

Great was Oliver's delight to find that the friend who had been a
brother to him was to be his brother in yet another sense. King Karl,
too, consented joyously to the troth, for he loved the gentle Alda even
as he loved her courageous brother.

But no time was there then for marriage feasts and rejoicings. The
heathen were clamoring at the gates of Christendom, and it became the
duty of every knight of the true religion to bid a hasty farewell to his
lady and buckle on his sword.

All France rushed to arms, and not a moment too soon. Marsilius, Saracen
King of Spain, was preparing to cross the Pyrenees!

Long