Part 3 (2/2)

Alberic uncovered his bright dark hair, bowed low and gracefully, but stood as if he did not exactly know what to do next. Richard grew shy at the same moment, and the two boys stood looking at each other somewhat awkwardly. It was easy to see that they were of different races, so unlike were the blue eyes, flaxen hair, and fair face of the young Duke, to the black flas.h.i.+ng eyes and olive cheek of his French va.s.sal, who, though two years older, was scarcely above him in height; and his slight figure, well-proportioned, active and agile as it was, did not give the same promise of strength as the round limbs and large-boned frame of Richard, which even now seemed likely to rival the gigantic stature of his grandfather, Earl Rollo, the Ganger.

For some minutes the little Duke and the young Baron stood surveying each other without a word, and old Sir Eric did not improve matters by saying, ”Well, Lord Duke, here he is. Have you no better greeting for him?”

”The children are shame-faced,” said Fru Astrida, seeing how they both coloured. ”Is your Lady mother in good health, my young sir?”

Alberic blushed more deeply, bowed to the old northern lady, and answered fast and low in French, ”I cannot speak the Norman tongue.”

Richard, glad to say something, interpreted Fru Astrida's speech, and Alberic readily made courteous reply that his mother was well, and he thanked the Dame de Centeville, a French t.i.tle which sounded new to Fru Astrida's ears. Then came the embarra.s.sment again, and Fru Astrida at last said, ”Take him out, Lord Richard; take him to see the horses in the stables, or the hounds, or what not.”

Richard was not sorry to obey, so out they went into the court of Rollo's tower, and in the open air the shyness went off. Richard showed his own pony, and Alberic asked if he could leap into the saddle without putting his foot in the stirrup. No, Richard could not; indeed, even Osmond had never seen it done, for the feats of French chivalry had scarcely yet spread into Normandy.

”Can you?” said Richard; ”will you show us?”

”I know I can with my own pony,” said Alberic, ”for Bertrand will not let me mount in any other way; but I will try with yours, if you desire it, my Lord.”

So the pony was led out. Alberic laid one hand on its mane, and vaulted on its back in a moment. Both Osmond and Richard broke out loudly into admiration. ”Oh, this is nothing!” said Alberic. ”Bertrand says it is nothing. Before he grew old and stiff he could spring into the saddle in this manner fully armed. I ought to do this much better.”

Richard begged to be shown how to perform the exploit, and Alberic repeated it; then Richard wanted to try, but the pony's patience would not endure any longer, and Alberic said he had learnt on a block of wood, and practised on the great wolf-hound. They wandered about a little longer in the court, and then climbed up the spiral stone stairs to the battlements at the top of the tower, where they looked at the house-tops of Rouen close beneath, and the river Seine, broadening and glittering on one side in its course to the sea, and on the other narrowing to a blue ribbon, winding through the green expanse of fertile Normandy. They threw the pebbles and bits of mortar down that they might hear them fall, and tried which could stand nearest to the edge of the battlement without being giddy. Richard was pleased to find that he could go the nearest, and began to tell some of Fru Astrida's stories about the precipices of Norway, among which when she was a young girl she used to climb about and tend the cattle in the long light summer time. When the two boys came down again into the hall to dinner, they felt as if they had known each other all their lives. The dinner was laid out in full state, and Richard had, as before, to sit in the great throne-like chair with the old Count of Harcourt on one side, but, to his comfort, Fru Astrida was on the other.

After the dinner, Alberic de Montemar rose to take his leave, as he was to ride half way to his home that afternoon. Count Bernard, who all dinner time had been watching him intently from under his s.h.a.ggy eye-brows, at this moment turned to Richard, whom he hardly ever addressed, and said to him, ”Hark ye, my Lord, what should you say to have him yonder for a comrade?”

”To stay with me?” cried Richard, eagerly. ”Oh, thanks, Sir Count; and may he stay?”

”You are Lord here.”

”Oh, Alberic!” cried Richard, jumping out of his chair of state, and running up to him, ”will you not stay with me, and be my brother and comrade?”

Alberic looked down hesitating.

”Oh, say that you will! I will give you horses, and hawks, and hounds, and I will love you--almost as well as Osmond. Oh, stay with me, Alberic.”

”I must obey you, my Lord,” said Alberic, ”but--”

”Come, young Frenchman, out with it,” said Bernard,--”no buts! Speak honestly, and at once, like a Norman, if you can.”

This rough speech seemed to restore the little Baron's self-possession, and he looked up bright and bold at the rugged face of the old Dane, while he said, ”I had rather not stay here.”

”Ha! not do service to your Lord?”

”I would serve him with all my heart, but I do not want to stay here. I love the Castle of Montemar better, and my mother has no one but me.”

”Brave and true, Sir Frenchman,” said the old Count, laying his great hand on Alberic's head, and looking better pleased than Richard thought his grim features could have appeared. Then turning to Bertrand, Alberic's Seneschal, he said, ”Bear the Count de Harcourt's greetings to the n.o.ble Dame de Montemar, and say to her that her son is of a free bold spirit, and if she would have him bred up with my Lord Duke, as his comrade and brother in arms, he will find a ready welcome.”

”So, Alberic, you will come back, perhaps?” said Richard.

”That must be as my mother pleases,” answered Alberic bluntly, and with all due civilities he and his Seneschal departed.

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