Charlemagne called together his peers, and made them take an oath to do all in their power to arrest Ogier, and bring him to condign punishment.  Ogier on his part sent messages to the Emperor, offering to give himself up on condition that Charlot should be punished for his atrocious crime.  The Emperor would listen to no conditions, and went in pursuit of Ogier at the head of a large body of soldiers.  Ogier, on the other hand, was warmly supported by many knights, who pledged themselves in his defence.  The contest raged long, with no decisive results.  Ogier more than once had the Emperor in his power, but declined to avail himself of his advantage, and released him without conditions.  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 quickly put an end to his life without bringing on himself the hostility of the King of Denmark, and other powerful friends of Ogier.  He exacted a new oath of Turpin to obey his order strictly.