o　chastise　the　false　Flemings。〃
  〃You　shall　ride　with　us　to…morrow；　my　Lord；〃　answered　Bernard；　〃but　it　must　be　to　Rouen；　there　to　be　invested　with　your　ducal　sword　and　mantle；　and　to　receive　the　homage　of　your　vassals。〃
  Richard　drooped　his　head　without　replying；　for　this　seemed　to　bring　to　him　the　perception　that　his　father　was　really　gone；　and　that　he　should　never　see　him　again。　　He　thought　of　all　his　projects　for　the　day　of　his　return；　how　he　had　almost　counted　the　hours；　and　had　looked　forward　to　telling　him　that　Father　Lucas　was　well　pleased　with　him！　　And　now　he　should　never　nestle　into　his　breast　again；　never　hear　his　voice；　never　see　those　kind　eyes　beam　upon　him。　　Large　tears　gathered　in　his　eyes；　and　ashamed　that　they　should　be　seen；　he　sat　down　on　a　footstool　at　Fru　Astrida's　feet；　leant　his　forehead　on　his　hands；　and　thought　over　all　that　his　father　had　done　and　said　the　last　time　they　were　together。　　He　fancied　the　return　that　had　been　promised；　going　over　the　meeting　and　the　greeting；　till　he　had　almost　persuaded　himself　that　this　dreadful　story　was　but　a　dream。　　But　when　he　looked　up；　there　were　the　Barons；　with　their　grave　mournful　faces；　speaking　of　the　corpse；　which　Duke　Alan　of　Brittany　was　escorting　to　Rouen；　there　to　be　buried　beside　the　old　Duke　Rollo；　and　the　Duchess　Emma；　Richard's　mother。　　Then　he　lost　himself　in　wonder　how　that　stiff　bleeding　body　could　be　the　same　as　the　father　whose　arm　was　so　lately　around　him；　and　whether　his　father's　spirit　knew　how　he　was　thinking　of　him；　and　in　these　dreamy　thoughts；　the　young　orphan　Duke　of　Normandy；　forgotten　by　his　vassals　in　their　grave　councils；　fell　asleep；　and　scarce　wakened　enough　to　attend　to　his　prayers；　when　Fru　Astrida　at　length　remembered　him；　and　led　him　away　to　bed。
  When　Richard　awoke　the　next　morning；　he　could　hardly　believe　that　all　that　had　passed　in　the　evening　was　true；　but　soon　he　found　that　it　was　but　too　real；　and　all　was　prepared　for　him　to　go　to　Rouen　with　the　vassals；　indeed；　it　was　for　no　other　purpose　than　to　fetch　him　that　the　Count　of　Harcourt　had　come　to　Bayeux。　　Fru　Astrida　was　quite　unhappy　that　〃the　child；〃　as　she　called　him；　should　go　alone　with　the　warriors；　but　Sir　Eric　laughed　at　her；　and　said　that　it　would　never　do　for　the　Duke　of　Normandy　to　bring　his　nurse　with　him　in　his　first　entry　into　Rouen；　and　she　must　be　content　to　follow　at　some　space　behind　under　the　escort　of　Walter　the　huntsman。
  So　she　took　leave　of　Richard；　charging　both　Sir　Eric　and　Osmond　to　have　the　utmost　care　of　him；　and　shedding　tears　as　if　the　parting　was　to　be　for　a　much　longer　space；　then　he　bade　farewell　to　the　servants　of　the　castle；　received　the　blessing　of　Father　Lucas；　and　mounting　his　pony；　rode　off　between　Sir　Eric　and　Count　Bernard。　　Richard　was　but　a　little　boy；　and　he　did　not　think　so　much　of　his　loss；　as　he　rode　along　in　the　free　morning　air；　feeling　himself　a　Prince　at　the　head　of　his　vassals；　his　banner　displayed　before　him；　and　the　people　coming　out　wherever　he　passed　to　gaze　on　him；　and　call　for　blessings　on　his　name。　　Rainulf　de　Ferrieres　carried　a　large　heavy　purse　filled　with　silver　and　gold；　and　whenever　they　came　to　these　gazing　crowds；　Richard　was　well　pleased　to　thrust　his　hands　deep　into　it；　and　scatter　handfuls　of　coins　among　the　gazers；　especially　where　he　saw　little　children。
  They　stopped　to　dine　and　rest　in　the　middle　of　the　day；　at　the　castle　of　a　Baron；　who；　as　soon　as　the　meal　was　over；　mounted　his　horse；　and　joined　them　in　their　ride　to　Rouen。　　So　far　it　had　not　been　very　different　from　Richard's　last　journey；　when　he　went　to　keep　Christmas　there　with　his　father；　but　now　they　were　beginning　to　come　nearer　the　town；　he　knew　the　broad　river　Seine　again；　and　saw　the　square　tower　of　the　Cathedral；　and　he　remembered　how　at　that　very　place　his　father　had　met　him；　and　how　he　had　ridden　by　his　side　into　the　town；　and　had　been　led　by　his　hand　up　to　the　hall。
  His　heart　was　very　heavy；　as　he　recollected　there　was　no　one　now　to　meet　and　welcome　him；　scarcely　any　one　to　whom　he　could　even　tell　his　thoughts；　for　those　tall　grave　Barons　had　nothing　to　say　to　such　a　little　boy；　and　the　very　respect　and　formality　with　which　they　treated　him；　made　him　shrink　from　them　still　more；　especially　from　the　grim…faced　Bernard；　and　Osmond；　his　own　friend　and　playfellow；　was　obliged　to　ride　far　behind；　as　inferior　in　rank。
  They　entered　the　town　just　as　it　was　growing　dark。　　Count　Bernard　looked　back　and　arrayed　the　procession；　Eric　de　Centeville　bade　Richard　sit　upright　and　not　look　weary；　and　then　all　the　Knights　held　back　while　the　little　Duke　rode　alone　a　little　in　advance　of　them　through　the　gateway。　　There　was　a　loud　shout　of　〃Long　live　the　little　Duke！〃　and　crowds　of　people　were　standing　round　to　gaze　upon　his　entry；　so　many　that　the　bag　of　coins　was　soon　emptied　by　his　largesses。　　The　whole　city　was　like　one　great　castle；　shut　in　by　a　wall　and　moat；　and　with　Rollo's　Tower　rising　at　one　end　like　the　keep　of　a　castle；　and　it　was　thither　that　Richard　was　turning　his　horse；　when　the　Count　of　Harcourt　said；　〃Nay；　my　Lord；　to　the　Church　of　our　Lady。〃　｛7｝
  It　was　then　considered　a　duty　to　be　paid　to　the　deceased；　that　their　relatives　and　friends　should　visit　them　as　they　lay　in　state；　and　sprinkle　them　with　drops　of　holy　water；　and　Richard　was　now　to　pay　this　token　of　respect。　　He　trembled　a　little；　and　yet　it　did　not　seem　quite　so　dreary；　since　he　should　once　more　look　on　his　father's　face；　and　he　accordingly　rode　towards　the　Cathedral。　　It　was　then　very　unlike　what　it　is　now；　the　walls　were　very　thick；　the　windows　small　and　almost　buried　in　heavy　carved　arches；　the　columns　within　were　low；　clumsy；　and　circular；　and　it　was　usually　so　dark　that　the　vaulting　of　the　roof　could　scarcely　be　seen。
  Now；　however；　a　whole　flood　of　light　poured　forth　from　every　window；　and　when　Richard　came　to　the　door；　he　saw　not　only　the　two　tall　thick　candles　that　always　burnt　on　each　side　of　the　Altar；　but　in　the　Chancel　stood　a　double　row　ranged　in　a　square；　shedding　a　pure；　quiet　brilliancy　throughout　the　building；　and　chiefly　on　the　silver　and　gold　ornaments　of　the　Altar。　　Outside　these　lights　knelt　a　row　of　priests　in　dark　garments；　their　heads　bowed　over　their　clasped　hands；　and　their　chanted　psalms　sounding　sweet；　and　full　of　soothing　music。　Within　that　guarded　space　was　a　bier；　and　a　form　lay　on　it。
  Richard　trembled　still　more　with　awe；　and　would　have　paused；　but　he　was　obliged　to　proceed。　　He　dipped　his　hand　in　the　water　of　the　font；　crossed　his　brow；　and　came　slowly　on；　sprinkled　the　remaining　drops　on　the　lifeless　figure；　and　then　stood　still。　　There　was　an　oppression　on　his　breast　as　if　he　could　neither　breathe　nor　move。
  There　lay　William　of　the　Long　Sword；　like　a　good　and　true　Christian　warrior；　arrayed　in　his　shining　armour；　his　sword　by　his　side；　his　shield　on　his　arm；　and　a　cross　between　his　hands；　clasped　upon　his　breast。　　His　ducal　mantle　of　crimson　velvet；　lined　with　ermine；　was　round　his　shoulders；　and；　instead　of　a　helmet；　his　coronet　was　on　his　head；　but；　in　contrast　with　this　rich　array；　over　the　collar　of　the　hauberk；　was　folded　the　edge　of　a　rough　hair　shirt；　which　the　Duke　had　worn　beneath　his　robes；　unknown　to　all；　until　his　corpse　was　disrobed　of　his　blood…stained　garments。　　His　face　looked　full　of　calm；　solemn　peace；　as　if　he　had　gently　fallen　asleep；　and　was　only　awaiting　the　great　call　to　awaken。　　There　was　not　a　single　token　of　violence　visible　about　him；　save　that　one　side　of　his　forehead　bore　a　deep　purple　mark；　where　he　had　first　been　struck　by　the　blow　of　the　oar　which　had　deprived　him　of　sense。
  〃See　you　that；　my　Lord？〃　said　Count　Bernard；　first　breaking　the　silence；　in　a　low；　deep；　stern　voice。
  Richard　had　heard　little　for　many　hours　past　save　counsels　against　the　Flemings；　and　plans　of　bitter　enmity　against　them；　and　the　sight　of　his　murdered　father；　with　that　look　and　tone　of　the　old　Dane；　fired　his　spirit；　and　breaking　from　his　trance　of　silent　awe　and　grief；　he　exclaimed；　〃I　see　it；　and　dearly　shall　the　traitor　Fleming　abye　it！〃　　Then；　encouraged　by　the　applauding　looks　of　the　nobles；　he　proceeded；　feeling　like　one　of　the　young　champions　of　Fru　Astrida's　songs。　　His　cheek　was　coloured；　his　eye　lighted　up；　and　he　lifted　his　head；　so　that　the　hair　fell　back　from　his　forehead；　he　laid　his　hand　on　the　hilt　of　his　father's　sword；　and　spoke　on　in　words；　perhaps；　suggested　by　some　sage。　　〃Yes；　Arnulf　of　Flanders；　know　that　Duke　William　of　Normandy　shall　not　rest　unavenged！　　On　this　good　sword　I　vow；　that；　as　soon　as　my　arm　shall　have　strength〃
  The　rest　was　left　unspoken；　for　a　hand　was　laid　on　his　arm。　　A　priest；　who　had　hitherto　been　kneeling　near　the　head　of　the　corpse；　had　risen；　and　stood　tall　and　dark　over　him；　and；　looking　up；　he　recognized　the　pale；　grave　countenance　of　Martin；　Abbot　of　Jumieges；　his　father's　chief　friend　and　councillor。
  〃Richard　of　Normandy；　what　sayest　thou？〃　said　he；　sternly。　　〃Yes；　hang　thy　head；　and　reply　not；　rather　than　repeat　those　words。　　Dost　thou　come　here　to　disturb　the　peace　of　the　dead　with　clamours　for　vengeance？　　Dost　thou　vow　strife　and　anger　on　that　sword　which　was　never　drawn；　save　in　the　cause　of　the　poor　and　distressed？　　Wouldst　thou　rob　Him；　to　whose　service　th