The same night, another servant had a vision, in which still more imperative orders for the removal of the relics were given; and, from that time forth, “not a single night passed without one, two, or even three of our companions receiving revelations in dreams that the bodies of the saints were to be transferred from that place to another.”  At last a priest, Hildfrid, saw, in a dream, a venerable white-haired man in a priest’s vestments, who bitterly reproached Eginhard for not obeying the repeated orders of the saints; and, upon this, the journey was commenced.  Why Eginhard delayed obedience to these repeated visions so long does not appear.  He does not say so, in so many words, but the general tenor of the narrative leads one to suppose that Mulinheim (afterwards Seligenstadt) is the “solitary place” in which he had built the church which awaited dedication.  In that case, all the people about him would know that he desired that the saints should go there.  If a glimmering of secular sense led him to be a little suspicious about the real cause of the unanimity of the visionary beings who manifested themselves to his entourage in favour of moving on, he does not say so.

At the end of the first day’s journey, the precious relics were deposited in the church of St. Martin, in the village of Ostheim.  Hither, a paralytic nun (sanctimonialis quaedam paralytica) of the name of Ruodlang was brought, in a car, by her friends and relatives from a monastery a league off.  She spent the night watching and praying by the bier of the saints; “and health returning to all her members, on the morrow she went back to her place whence she came, on her feet, nobody supporting her, or in any way giving her assistance.” (Cap. ii. 19.)

On the second day, the relics were carried to Upper Mulinheim; and, finally, in accordance with the orders of the martyrs, deposited in the church of that place, which was therefore renamed Seligenstadt.  Here, Daniel, a beggar boy of fifteen, and so bent that “he could not look at the sky without lying on his back,” collapsed and fell down during the celebration of the Mass.

“Thus he lay a long time, as if asleep, and all his limbs straightening and his flesh strengthening (recepta firmitate nervorum), he arose before our eyes, quite well.” (Cap. ii. 20.)

Some time afterwards an old man entered the church on his hands and knees, being unable to use his limbs properly:—­

He, in presence of all of us, by the power of God and the merits of the blessed martyrs, in the same hour in which he entered was so perfectly cured that he walked without so much as a stick.  And he said that, though he had been deaf for five years, his deafness had ceased along with the palsy. (Cap. iii. 33.)

Eginhard was now obliged to return to the Court at Aix-la-Chapelle, where his duties kept him through the winter; and he is careful to point out that the later miracles which he proceeds to speak of are known to him only at second hand.  But, as he naturally observes, having seen such wonderful events with his own eyes, why should he doubt similar narrations when they are received from trustworthy sources?