It is of an adventure that came to Charlemagne when he was journeying from France to Italy on his way to be made emperor, that I would tell you. All along the route which he was to take, the report had gone out that the mighty Charlemagne was coming, and crowds had flocked to the roadside to see the famous king go by with his escort of dukes and lords and barons and earls, who were reckoned the most valiant company of knights in Christendom.

Of all those who awaited the coming of the king, none were more eager than two half-grown lads who stood on a hilltop near Sutri in northern Italy and watched the long file of heralds and soldiers in armor, who made up the advance guard of the army, march up the winding road that led to the little village. They were a strange couple, these two, the one dark-haired and graceful in the velvet suit which he had donned for this feast day, and which set off his slender figure well, the other strong and handsome but clad in ragged garments, and with unkempt flaxen locks streaming in the wind. Yet the rough clothes of Roland, the village boy, could no more hide an air of distinction with which he carried himself than could the rich garments of Oliver, the governor's son, conceal the lithe strength of his young body.

The villagers never ceased to wonder that the governor allowed his son to be seen with Roland, but it had come about in this wise: Roland was the strongest of the village boys, and they made him their leader and champion, who should settle the unending feud which existed between them and the boys of high station, of whom Oliver was the leader. In a wrestling match the two had fought it out, and though the contest was long and close, Roland had finally thrown his opponent. But Oliver, being a courteous lad as well as strong, rose to his feet and declared that Roland had proved himself the better, and that so much did he admire his valor, that he would fain be friends with him. And there began a friendship which was to last as long as Roland and Oliver should live, and was to be sung in many languages and told by many chroniclers.

Thus it came about that Roland and Oliver watched from a hilltop in Sutri the coming of the army, and shouted themselves hoarse when the king himself came in sight, mounted on a prancing charger and surrounded by the twelve peers who were the best of all his knights and whose fame had spread throughout all Christendom. But after the king had passed, Oliver must needs hasten to the village green, where a feast had been set for the king, and the governor's son must serve as one of the pages who passed the heaping platters and bore the silver tankards of rich red wine. Roland turned his face to go to the cave where he and his widowed mother dwelt in sad poverty outside the village walls, but as he went he came upon a line of the emperor's servants bearing trays of dainty viands to the table. For many days Roland and his mother had been living on crusts of bread and goat's milk, for the winter was hard and food scarce, and the sight of meat drove from the boy's mind all remembrance of aught but his hunger and his mother's sufferings. He rushed upon the men, and snatching the plates from their hands, made away with them with such speed that before they realized what had happened he was out of sight.

When the emperor was told of the boy's deed, he sat silent, buried in thought, and all at the table waited, fearing lest the lad be severely punished for his bold act; but Charlemagne was thinking of a dream which had troubled him for three nights. He had seen the fierce, starving boy seizing the food, and had been warned to follow him. He dispatched three knights to find the boy and bring him into his presence. They had little difficulty in finding him, for every one in the village knew Roland; but when they came to the cave he met them, and told them fiercely that none should enter the cave, uninvited, to harm his mother, but should receive first a blow from his cudgel. His mother calmed the angry boy and invited the messengers to enter.

That was a time of surprise for young Roland, for when the knights saw the boy's mother, they knew her to be no peasant woman but a lady of high rank and they bowed low before her, and told her that King Charles, who was to be crowned emperor at Rome, desired the presence of her son. And Roland's mother wept when she heard the name of Charles, and told the knights that she was his own sister, the lady Bertha, who had fled from the court many years before because her royal brother would not give her leave to marry a poor but noble knight, by the name of Milone. They had escaped together to Italy, and had hidden in this cave to wait till the spies of Charlemagne should have returned from searching for them. There Roland had been born, and from there Milone had departed when the heathen Saracens had come to the very gates of Rome to take her, and every knight in Christendom had been summoned to defend the faith and save the city. In that battle he had been killed, and for all the years of Roland's childhood his mother had lived on in the cave, subsisting as best she might. Then the knights knelt before the sister of Charlemagne and gave her homage, and entreated her that she let them bring the boy into the royal presence and sue for pardon for them both. But Roland sat as in a dream as he heard of his royal lineage, and marveled that the mighty king, whom he had looked upon that very morning, was his uncle.

The knights led Roland into the king's presence, and the boy stood proudly before Charlemagne, and bore himself so well that all who looked on wondered at the appearance of this peasant boy. When he heard the story of the messengers, Charlemagne's heart yearned over the boy, who was his only sister's son, and he embraced him and welcomed him to his court. An escort of noble knights brought the Lady Bertha to the king, and from that time forth Roland and his mother belonged to the king's household. They journeyed with him to Rome, and every day Charlemagne rejoiced in the proud bearing of the lad, and in his strength and courage. When they returned to France, Roland was given over to the care of Duke Namo, who should take the lad and train him as a page in his household.

As a page in the household of Duke Namo, Roland began his knightly education in company with a group of noble youth who had come there for that purpose. It was hard for the freedom-loving boy, who had been under no tutelage but that of his gentle mother, to adapt himself to the castle life, but he set himself sternly to learn those first lessons of the page, "Obedience and Service," and won golden opinions from the lord and lady of the castle; for of all the pages none was so eager to learn, and none so ready to run with messages or wait upon the duke's guests, and none so quick to serve at table. The ladies of the court taught him courtesy, and he responded with gallant service and pretty speeches, until the duke reported to his uncle, the emperor, that the lad was the favorite of all the household, as well as his most promising pupil.

One day Roland was wild with delight, for his master had told him that he was to be made an esquire (for he was already fourteen years old). The lady Bertha might well be proud of the tall, flaxen-haired lad who stepped from the ranks of the pages when his name was called and exchanged the short dagger of the page for the sword of the esquire. Henceforth he was no longer a child, but a youth, whose duties would all be turned toward the profession of knighthood for which he was being trained. Once more he was assigned to the care of Duke Namo, and with him was placed a boy a few years older than he, who was his favorite of all the pages with whom he had been associated. This was Ogier the Dane, son and heir of the king of Denmark, who had been delivered to Charlemagne by his father as a pledge that Denmark would continue to render homage to him as emperor. Together the boys learned the duties of esquireship, caring for the armor of their lord, equipping his horse for him when he would go abroad, and attending him on every journey; together they were trained in the feats of knighthood, and together they listened to the tales of Bernardo the old armorer, who told of battles and tourneys and deeds of valor. And the boys lamented because the times were peaceful, but the old man said, "Never fear, young sirs; your time will come."