orders from the Queen that they should return immediately.
They obeyed, and found her standing in the Castle hall, looking greatly
incensed.

"What means this?" she asked, angrily. "Knew you not that the King has
left commands that the Duke quits not the Castle in his absence?"

"I was only going as far as the river--" began Richard, but Gerberge cut
him short. "Silence, child--I will hear no excuses. Perhaps you think,
Sieur de Centeville, that you may take liberties in the King's absence,
but I tell you that if you are found without the walls again, it shall be
at your peril; ay, and his! I'll have those haughty eyes put out, if you
disobey!"

She turned away, and Lothaire looked at them with his air of gratified
malice. "You will not lord it over your betters much longer, young
pirate!" said he, as he followed his mother, afraid to stay to meet the
anger he might have excited by the taunt he could not deny himself the
pleasure of making; but Richard, who, six months ago could not brook a
slight disappointment or opposition, had, in his present life of
restraint, danger, and vexation, learnt to curb the first outbreak of
temper, and to bear patiently instead of breaking out into passion and
threats, and now his only thought was of his beloved Squire.

"Oh, Osmond! Osmond!" he exclaimed, "they shall not hurt you. I will
never go out again. I will never speak another hasty word. I will never
affront the Prince, if they will but leave you with me!" {14}

CHAPTER VIII

It was a fine summer evening, and Richard and Carloman were playing at
ball on the steps of the Castle-gate, when a voice was heard from
beneath, begging for alms from the noble Princes in the name of the
blessed Virgin, and the two boys saw a pilgrim standing at the gate,
wrapt in a long robe of serge, with a staff in his hand, surmounted by a
Cross, a scrip at his girdle, and a broad shady hat, which he had taken
off, as he stood, making low obeisances, and asking charity.

"Come in, holy pilgrim," said Carloman. "It is late, and you shall sup
and rest here to-night."

"Blessings from Heaven light on you, noble Prince," replied the pilgrim,
and at that moment Richard shouted joyfully, "A Norman, a Norman! 'tis my
own dear speech! Oh, are you not from Normandy? Osmond, Osmond! he
comes from home!"

"My Lord! my own Lord!" exclaimed the pilgrim, and, kneeling on one knee
at the foot of the steps, he kissed the hand which his yo