Part 13 (2/2)
”I had no s.p.a.ce for a word, grandmother; the Danes took the vengeance on themselves. In one moment they rushed on Herluin with their axes, and the unhappy man was dead. All was tumult; every one struck without knowing at whom, or for what. Some shouted, '_Thor Hulfe_!' some '_Dieu aide_!' others '_Montjoie St. Denis_!' Northern blood against French, that was all our guide. I found myself at the foot of this standard, and had a hard combat for it; but I bore it away at last.”
”And the Kings?”
”They hurried out of the tent, it seems, to rejoin their men. Louis mounted, but you know of old, my Lord, he is but an indifferent horseman, and the beast carried him into the midst of the Danes, where King Harald caught his bridle, and delivered him to four Knights to keep. Whether he dealt secretly with them, or whether they, as they declared, lost sight of him whilst plundering his tent, I cannot say; but when Harald demanded him of them, he was gone.”
”Gone! is this what you call having the King prisoner?”
”You shall hear. He rode four leagues, and met one of the baser sort of Rouennais, whom he bribed to hide him in the Isle of Willows. However, Bernard made close inquiries, found the fellow had been seen in speech with a French horseman, pounced on his wife and children, and threatened they should die if he did not disclose the secret. So the King was forced to come out of his hiding-place, and is now fast guarded in Rollo's tower--a Dane, with a battle-axe on his shoulder, keeping guard at every turn of the stairs.”
”Ha! ha!” cried Richard. ”I wonder how he likes it. I wonder if he remembers holding me up to the window, and vowing that he meant me only good!”
”When you believed him, my Lord,” said Osmond, slyly.
”I was a little boy then,” said Richard, proudly. ”Why, the very walls must remind him of his oath, and how Count Bernard said, as he dealt with me, so might Heaven deal with him.”
”Remember it, my child--beware of broken vows,” said Father Lucas; ”but remember it not in triumph over a fallen foe. It were better that all came at once to the chapel, to bestow their thanksgivings where alone they are due.”
CHAPTER X
After nearly a year's captivity, the King engaged to pay a ransom, and, until the terms could be arranged, his two sons were to be placed as hostages in the hands of the Normans, whilst he returned to his own domains. The Princes were to be sent to Bayeux; whither Richard had returned, under the charge of the Centevilles, and was now allowed to ride and walk abroad freely, provided he was accompanied by a guard.
”I shall rejoice to have Carloman, and make him happy,” said Richard; ”but I wish Lothaire were not coming.”
”Perhaps,” said good Father Lucas, ”he comes that you may have a first trial in your father's last lesson, and Abbot Martin's, and return good for evil.”
The Duke's cheek flushed, and he made no answer.
He and Alberic betook themselves to the watch-tower, and, by and by, saw a cavalcade approaching, with a curtained vehicle in the midst, slung between two horses. ”That cannot be the Princes,” said Alberic; ”that must surely be some sick lady.”
”I only hope it is not the Queen,” exclaimed Richard, in dismay. ”But no; Lothaire is such a coward, no doubt he was afraid to ride, and she would not trust her darling without shutting him up like a demoiselle.
But come down, Alberic; I will say nothing unkind of Lothaire, if I can help it.”
Richard met the Princes in the court, his sunny hair uncovered, and bowing with such becoming courtesy, that Fru Astrida pressed her son's arm, and bade him say if their little Duke was not the fairest and n.o.blest child in Christendom.
With black looks, Lothaire stepped from the litter, took no heed of the little Duke, but, roughly calling his attendant, Charlot, to follow him, he marched into the hall, vouchsafing neither word nor look to any as he pa.s.sed, threw himself into the highest seat, and ordered Charlot to bring him some wine.
Meanwhile, Richard, looking into the litter, saw Carloman crouching in a corner, sobbing with fright.
”Carloman!--dear Carloman!--do not cry. Come out! It is I--your own Richard! Will you not let me welcome you?”
Carloman looked, caught at the outstretched hand, and clung to his neck.
”Oh, Richard, send us back! Do not let the savage Danes kill us!”
”No one will hurt you. There are no Danes here. You are my guest, my friend, my brother. Look up! here is my own Fru Astrida.”
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