ower, Osmond. Indeed, the Baron would hardly bear that he
should be out of his sight; and he was still so carefully watched, that
it was almost like a captivity. Never, even in the summer days, was he
allowed to go beyond the Castle walls; and his guardians would fain have
had it supposed that the Castle did not contain any such guest.

Osmond did not give him so much of his company as usual, but was always
at work in the armourer's forge--a low, vaulted chamber, opening into the
Castle court. Richard and Alberic were very curious to know what he did
there; but he fastened the door with an iron bar, and they were forced to
content themselves with listening to the strokes of the hammer, keeping
time to the voice that sang out, loud and cheerily, the song of "Sigurd's
sword, and the maiden sleeping within the ring of flame." Fru Astrida
said Osmond was quite right--no good weapon-smith ever toiled with open
doors; and when the boys asked him questions as to his work, he only
smiled, and said that they would see what it was when the call to arms
should come.

They thought it near at hand, for tidings came that Louis had assembled
his army, and marched into Normandy to recover the person of the young
Duke, and to seize the country. No summons, however, arrived, but a
message came instead, that Rouen had been surrendered into the bands of
the King. Richard shed indignant tears. "My father's Castle! My own
city in the hands of the foe! Bernard is a traitor then! None shall
hinder me from so calling him. Why did we trust him?"

"Never fear, Lord Duke," said Osmond. "When you come to the years of
Knighthood, your own sword shall right you, in spite of all the false
Danes, and falser Franks, in the land."

"What! you too, son Osmond? I deemed you carried a cooler brain than to
miscall one who was true to Rollo's race before you or yon varlet were
born!" said the old Baron.

"He has yielded my dukedom! It is mis-calling to say he is aught but a
traitor!" cried Richard. "Vile, treacherous, favour-seeking--"

"Peace, peace, my Lord," said the Baron. "Bernard has more in that wary
head of his than your young wits, or my old ones, can unwind. What he is
doing I may not guess, but I gage my life his heart is right."

Richard was silent, remembering he had been once unjust, but he grieved
heartily when he thought of the French in Rollo's tower, and it was
further reported that the King was about to share Normandy