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The Duke was soon asleep; but the Squire lay long awake, musing on the possible dangers that surrounded his charge, and on the best way of guarding against them. Osmond de Centeville was soon convinced that no immediate peril threatened his young Duke at the Court of Laon.
"The Duke dead!" repeated Sir Eric de Centeville, like one stunned and stupefied. "Even so," said Rainulf, slowly and sadly, and the silence was only broken by the long-drawn sobs of old Count Bernard. "But how? when? where?" broke forth Sir Eric, presently. "There was no note of battle when you went forth. Oh, why was not I at his side?" "He fell not in battle," gloomily replied Sir Rainulf.
Used as Richard was to be petted and made much of by the whole house of Centeville, he resented this considerably in secret, disliked and feared the old Count, and more than once told Alberic de Montemar, that as soon as he was fourteen, when he would be declared of age, he should send Count Bernard to take care of his own Castle of Harcourt, instead of letting him sit gloomy and grim in the Castle hall in the evening, spoiling all their sport.
Richard heard voices, steps, loud singing and laughter, as if feasting was going on; then some one said, "Tending your horse, Sieur de Centeville?" "Yes," Osmond made answer. "You know, since we lost our grooms, the poor black would come off badly, did I not attend to him." Presently came Carloman's voice: "O Osmond de Centeville! is Richard better?"
Poor child, he is like to be soon taught to know his true friends." "I am ready," said Alberic, coming forward. The Baron de Centeville repeated his instructions, and then undertook to guard the door, while his son saw Alberic set off on his expedition.
How earnest and sorrowful were the prayers offered at Centeville may well be imagined; and at Montemar sur Epte the anxiety was scarcely less. Indeed, from the time the evil tidings arrived, Alberic grew so restless and unhappy, and so anxious to do something, that at last his mother set out with him on a pilgrimage to the Abbey of Jumieges, to pray for the rescue of his dear little Duke.
At last arrived a message from Osmond de Centeville, sent in secret with considerable difficulty, telling the Normans to pray that their young duke might be delivered out of the hands of his enemies, for that he was convinced that evil was intended, since he was closely watched; and one day when he had gone down to the river to bathe, the queen had threatened him with cruel punishments if he again left the place.
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.
"Your wings! our wings!" cried Richard, "the bearing of Centeville!" "May they fly after the foe, not before him," said Sir Eric. "Speed thee well, my son let not our Danish cousins say we learn Frank graces instead of Northern blows." With such farewells, Osmond quitted Senlis, while the two boys hastened to the battlements to watch him as long as he remained in view.
A fresh outcry broke out in the little garrison of Senlis, but Sir Eric still persisted in his trust in his friend Bernard, even when he heard that Centeville was marked out as the prey of the fat French Count who had served for a hostage at Rouen. "What say you now, my Lord?" said he, after a conference with a messenger at the gate. "The Black Raven has spread its wings.
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