ditions. He even implored pardon for himself, but demanded at the
same time the punishment of Charlot. But Charlemagne was too blindly
fond of his unworthy son to subject him to punishment for the sake of
conciliating one who had been so deeply injured.

At length, distressed at the blood which his friends had lost in his
cause, Ogier dismissed his little army, and slipping away from those
who wished to attend him, took his course to rejoin the Duke Guyon, his
brother. On his way, having reached the forest of Ardennes, weary with
long travel, the freshness of a retired valley tempted him to lie down
to take some repose. He unsaddled Beiffror, relieved himself of his
helmet, lay down on the turf, rested his head on his shield, and slept.

It so happened that Turpin, who occasionally recalled to mind that he
was Archbishop of Rheins, was at that time in the vicinity, making a
pastoral visit to the churches under his jurisdiction. But his dignity
of peer of France, and his martial spirit, which caused him to be
reckoned among the "preux chevaliers" of his time, forbade him to
travel without as large a retinue of knights as he had of clergymen.
One of these was thirsty, and knowing the fountain on the borders of
which Ogier was reposing, he rode to it, and was struck by the sight of
a knight stretched on the ground. He hastened back, and let the
Archbishop know, who approached the fountain, and recognized Ogier.

The first impulse of the good and generous Turpin was to save his
friend, for whom he felt the warmest attachment; but his archdeacons
and knights, who also recognized Ogier, reminded the Archbishop of the
oath which the Emperor had exacted of them all. Turpin could not be
false to his oath; but it was not without a groan that he permitted his
followers to bind the sleeping knight. The Archbishop's attendants
secured the horse and arms of Ogier, and conducted their prisoner to
the Emperor at Soissons.

The Emperor had become so much embittered by Ogier's obstinate
resistance, added to his original fault, that he was disposed to order
him to instant death. But Turpin, seconded by the good Dukes Namo and
Salomon, prayed so hard for him that Charlemagne consented to remit a
violent death, but sentenced him to close imprisonment, under the
charge of the Archbishop, strictly limiting his food to one quarter of
a loaf of bread per day, with one piece of meat, and a quarter of a cup
of wine. In this way he hoped to qui