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.