Gan wrote to Charlemagne to say how humbly and submissively Marsilius was coming to pay the tribute into the hands of Orlando, and how handsome it would be of the Emperor to meet him half-way, and so be ready to receive him after the payment at his camp.  He added a brilliant account of the tribute, and the accompanying presents.  The good Emperor wrote in turn to say how pleased he was with the ambassador’s diligence, and that matters were arranged precisely as he wished.  His court, however, had its suspicion still, though they little thought Gan’s object in bringing Charles into the neighborhood of Roncesvalles was to deliver him into the hands of Marsilius, after Orlando should have been destroyed by him.

Orlando, however, did as his lord and sovereign desired.  He went to Roncesvalles, accompanied by a moderate train of warriors, not dreaming of the atrocity that awaited him.  Gan, meanwhile, had hastened back to France, in order to show himself free and easy in the presence of Charles, and secure the success of his plot; while Marsilius, to make assurance doubly sure, brought into the passes of Roncesvalles no less than three armies, which were successively to fall on the paladin in case of the worst, and so extinguish him with numbers.  He had also, by Gan’s advice, brought heaps of wine and good cheer to be set before his victims in the first instance; “for that,” said the traitor, “will render the onset the more effective, the feasters being unarmed.  One thing, however, I must not forget,” added he; “my son Baldwin is sure to be with Orlando; you must take care of his life for my sake.”

“I give him this vesture off my own body,” said the king; “let him wear it in the battle, and have no fear.  My soldiers shall be directed not to touch him.”

Gan went away rejoicing to France.  He embraced the sovereign and the court all round with the air of a man who had brought them nothing but blessings, and the old king wept for very tenderness and delight.

“Something is going on wrong, and looks very black,” thought Malagigi, the good wizard; “Rinaldo is not here, and it is indispensably necessary that he should be.  I must find out where he is, and Ricciardetto too, and send for them with all speed.”

Malagigi called up by his art a wise, terrible, and cruel spirit, named Ashtaroth.  “Tell me, and tell me truly, of Rinaldo,” said Malagigi to the spirit.  The demon looked hard at the paladin, and said nothing.  His aspect was clouded and violent.

The enchanter, with an aspect still cloudier, bade Ashtaroth lay down that look, and made signs as if he would resort to angrier compulsion; and the devil, alarmed, loosened his tongue, and said, “You have not told me what you desire to know of Rinaldo.”

“I desire to know what he has been doing, and where he is.”

“He has been conquering and baptizing the world, east and west,” said the demon, “and is now in Egypt with Ricciardetto.”