en, asking Osmond almost every night when
they should go back, to which Osmond could only answer that he must pray
that Heaven would be pleased to bring them home safely.

Osmond, in the meantime, kept a vigilant watch for anything that might
seem to threaten danger to his Lord; but at present there was no token of
any evil being intended; the only point in which Louis did not seem to be
fulfilling his promises to the Normans was, that no preparations were
made for attacking the Count of Flanders.

At Easter the court was visited by Hugh the White, the great Count of
Paris, the most powerful man in France, and who was only prevented by his
own loyalty and forbearance, from taking the crown from the feeble and
degenerate race of Charlemagne. He had been a firm friend of William
Longsword, and Osmond remarked how, on his arrival, the King took care to
bring Richard forward, talk of him affectionately, and caress him almost
as much as he had done at Rouen. The Count himself was really kind and
affectionate to the little Duke; he kept him by his side, and seemed to
like to stroke down his long flaxen hair, looking in his face with a
grave mournful expression, as if seeking for a likeness to his father.
He soon asked about the scar which the burn had left, and the King was
obliged to answer hastily, it was an accident, a disaster that had
chanced in a boyish quarrel. Louis, in fact, was uneasy, and appeared to
be watching the Count of Paris the whole time of his visit, so as to
prevent him from having any conversation in private with the other great
vassals assembled at the court. Hugh did not seem to perceive this, and
acted as if he was entirely at his ease, but at the same time he watched
his opportunity. One evening, after supper, he came up to the window
where Richard and Carloman were, as usual, deep in story telling; he sat
down on the stone seat, and taking Richard on his knee, he asked if he
had any greetings for the Count de Harcourt.

How Richard's face lighted up! "Oh, Sir," he cried, "are you going to
Normandy?"

"Not yet, my boy, but it may be that I may have to meet old Harcourt at
the Elm of Gisors."

"Oh, if I was but going with you."

"I wish I could take you, but it would scarcely do for me to steal the
heir of Normandy. What shall I tell him?"

"Tell him," whispered Richard, edging himself close to the Count, and
trying to reach his ear, "tell him that I am sorry, now, that I was
sullen whe