In spite of all the noise of the battle, the sound of the horn broke over it like a voice out of the other world.  They say that birds fell dead at it, and that the whole Saracen army drew back in terror.  But fearfuller still was its effect at St. John Pied de Port.  Charlemagne was sitting in the midst of his court when the sound reached him; and Gan was there.  The emperor was the first to hear it.

“Do you hear that?” said he to his nobles.  “Did you hear the horn, as I heard it?”

Upon this they all listened; and Gan felt his heart misgive him.

The horn sounded the second time.

“What is the meaning of this?” said Charles.

“Orlando is hunting,” observed Gan, “and the stag is killed.  He is at the old pastime that he was so fond of in Aspramonte.”

But when the horn sounded yet a third time, and the blast was one of so dreadful a vehemence, every body looked at the other, and then they all looked at Gan in fury.  Charles rose from his seat.  “This is no hunting of the stag,” said he.  “The sound goes to my very heart, and, I confess, makes me tremble.  I am awakened out of a great dream.  O Gan!  O Gan!  Not for thee do I blush, but for myself, and for nobody else.  O my God, what is to be done!  But whatever is to be done, must be done quickly.  Take this villain, gentlemen, and keep him in hard prison.  O foul and monstrous villain!  Would to God I had not lived to see this day!  O obstinate and enormous folly!  O Malagigi, had I but believed thy foresight!  ’Tis thou went the wise man, and I the grey-headed fool.”

Ogier the Dane, and Namo and others, in the bitterness of their grief and anger, could not help reminding the emperor of all which they had foretold.  But it was no time for words.  They put the traitor into prison; and then Charles, with all his court, took his way to Roncesvalles, grieving and praying.

It was afternoon when the horn sounded, and half an hour after it when the emperor set out; and meantime Orlando had returned to the fight that he might do his duty, however hopeless, as long as he could sit his horse, and the Paladins were now reduced to four; and though the Saracens suffered themselves to be mowed down like grass by them and their little band, he found his end approaching for toil and fever, and so at length he withdrew out of the fight, and rode all alone to a fountain which he knew of, where he had before quenched his thirst.

His horse was wearier still than he, and no sooner had its master alighted, than the beast, kneeling down as if to take leave, and to say, “I have brought you to your place of rest,” fell dead at his feet.  Orlando cast water on him from the fountain, not wishing to believe him dead; but when he found it to no purpose, he grieved for him as if he had been a human being, and addressed him by name in tears, and asked forgiveness if ever he had done him wrong.  They say, that the horse at these words once more opened his eyes a little, and looked kindly at his master, and so stirred never more.