your homage."

"The King!" exclaimed Osmond.

"Ay!" proceeded the Norman, in his own tongue, "Louis himself, and
with a train looking bent on mischief. I wish it may portend good to
my Lord here. You see I am accompanied. I believe from my heart
that Louis meant to prevent you from receiving a warning, and taking
the boy out of his clutches."

"Ha! what?" said Richard, anxiously. "Why is the King come? What
must I do?"

"Go on now, since there is no help for it," said Osmond.

"Greet the king as becomes you, bend the knee, and pay him homage."

Richard repeated over to himself the form of homage that he might be
perfect in it, and walked on into the court; Alberic, Osmond, and the
rest falling back as he entered. The court was crowded with horses
and men, and it was only by calling out loudly, "The Duke, the Duke,"
that Osmond could get space enough made for them to pass. In a few
moments Richard had mounted the steps and stood in the great hall.

In the chair of state, at the upper end of the room, sat a small
spare man, of about eight or nine-and-twenty, pale, and of a light
complexion, with a rich dress of blue and gold. Sir Eric and several
other persons stood respectfully round him, and he was conversing
with the Archbishop, who, as well as Sir Eric, cast several anxious
glances at the little Duke as he advanced up the hall. He came up to