the old Baron's shoulder. "Yet, I know not; true thou art, as a
Norwegian mountain, but I doubt me if thy brains are not too dull to
see through the French wiles and disguises, sharp as thou didst show
thyself last night."

"That was Osmond, not I," said Sir Eric. "He knows their mincing
tongue better than I. He were the best to go with the poor child, if
go he must."

"Bethink you, Eric," said the Count, in an undertone, "Osmond is the
only hope of your good old house--if there is foul play, the guardian
will be the first to suffer."

"Since you think fit to peril the only hope of all Normandy, I am not
the man to hold back my son where he may aid him," said old Eric,
sadly. "The poor child will be lonely and uncared-for there, and it
were hard he should not have one faithful comrade and friend with
him."

"It is well," said Bernard: "young as he is, I had rather trust
Osmond with the child than any one else, for he is ready of counsel,
and quick of hand."

"Ay, and a pretty pass it is come to," muttered old Centeville, "that
we, whose business it is to guard the boy, should send him where you
scarcely like to trust my son."

Bernard paid no further attention to him, but, coming forward,
required another oath from the King, that Richard should be as safe
and free at his court as at Rouen, and that on no pretence whatsoever