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he had almost persuaded himself that this dreadful story was but a dream。 But when he looked up； there were the Barons； with their grave mournful faces； speaking of the corpse； which Duke Alan of Brittany was escorting to Rouen； there to be buried beside the old Duke Rollo； and the Duchess Emma； Richard's mother。 Then he lost himself in wonder how that stiff bleeding body could be the same as the father whose arm was so lately around him； and whether his father's spirit knew how he was thinking of him； and in these dreamy thoughts； the young orphan Duke of Normandy； forgotten by his vassals in their grave councils； fell asleep； and scarce wakened enough to attend to his prayers； when Fru Astrida at length remembered him； and led him away to bed。
When Richard awoke the next morning； he could hardly believe that all that had passed in the evening was true； but soon he found that it was but too real； and all was prepared for him to go to Rouen with the vassals； indeed； it was for no other purpose than to fetch him that the Count of Harcourt had come to Bayeux。 Fru Astrida was quite unhappy that 〃the child；〃 as she called him； should go alone with the warriors； but Sir Eric laughed at her； and said that it would never do for the Duke of Normandy to bring his nurse with him in his first entry into Rouen； and she must be content to follow at some space behind under the escort of Walter the huntsman。
So she took leave of Richard； charging both Sir Eric and Osmond to have the utmost care of him； and shedding tears as if the parting was to be for a much longer space； then he bade farewell to the servants of the castle； received the blessing of Father Lucas； and mounting his pony； rode off between Sir Eric and Count Bernard。 Richard was but a little boy； and he did not think so much of his loss； as he rode along in the free morning air； feeling himself a Prince at the head of his vassals； his banner displayed before him； and the people coming out wherever he passed to gaze on him； and call for blessings on his name。 Rainulf de Ferrieres carried a large heavy purse filled with silver and gold； and whenever they came to these gazing crowds； Richard was well pleased to thrust his hands deep into it； and scatter handfuls of coins among the gazers； especially where he saw little children。
They stopped to dine and rest in the middle of the day； at the castle of a Baron； who； as soon as the meal was over； mounted his horse； and joined them in their ride to Rouen。 So far it had not been very different from Richard's last journey； when he went to keep Christmas there with his father； but now they were beginning to come nearer the town； he knew the broad river Seine again； and saw the square tower of the Cathedral； and he remembered how at that very place his father had met him； and how he had ridden by his side into the town； and had been led by his hand up to the hall。
His heart was very heavy； as he recollected there was no one now to meet and welcome him； scarcely any one to whom he could even tell his thoughts； for those tall grave Barons had nothing to say to such a little boy； and the very respect and formality with which they treated him； made him shrink from them still more； especially from the grim…faced Bernard； and Osmond； his own friend and playfellow； was obliged to ride far behind； as inferior in rank。
They entered the town just as it was growing dark。 Count Bernard looked back and arrayed the procession； Eric de Centeville bade Richard sit upright and not look weary； and then all the Knights held back while the little Duke rode alone a little in advance of them through the gateway。 There was a loud shout of 〃Long live the little Duke！〃 and crowds of people were standing round to gaze upon his entry； so many that the bag of coins was soon emptied by his largesses。 The whole city was like one great castle； shut in by a wall and moat； and with Rollo's Tower rising at one end like the keep of a castle； and it was thither that Richard was turning his horse； when the Count of Harcourt said； 〃Nay； my Lord； to the Church of our Lady。〃 ｛7｝
It was then considered a duty to be paid to the deceased； that their relatives and friends should visit them as they lay in state； and sprinkle them with drops of holy water； and Richard was now to pay this token of respect。 He trembled a little； and yet it did not seem quite so dreary； since he should once more look on his father's face； and he accordingly rode towards the Cathedral。 It was then very unlike what it is now； the walls were very thick； the windows small and almost buried in heavy carved arches； the columns within were low； clumsy； and circular； and it was usually so dark that the vaulting of the roof could scarcely be seen。
Now； however； a whole flood of light poured forth from every window； and when Richard came to the door； he saw not only the two tall thick candles that always burnt on each side of the Altar； but in the Chancel stood a double row ranged in a square； shedding a pure； quiet brilliancy throughout the building； and chiefly on the silver and gold ornaments of the Altar。 Outside these lights knelt a row of priests in dark garments； their heads bowed over their clasped hands； and their chanted psalms sounding sweet； and full of soothing music。 Within that guarded space was a bier； and a form lay on it。
Richard trembled still more with awe； and would have paused； but he was obliged to proceed。 He dipped his hand in the water of the font； crossed his brow； and came slowly on； sprinkled the remaining drops on the lifeless figure； and then stood still。 There was an oppression on his breast as if he could neither breathe nor move。
There lay William of the Long Sword； like a good and true Christian warrior； arrayed in his shining armour； his sword by his side； his shield on his arm； and a cross between his hands； clasped upon his breast。 His ducal mantle of crimson velvet； lined with ermine； was round his shoulders； and； instead of a helmet； his coronet was on his head； but； in contrast with this rich array； over the collar of the hauberk； was folded the edge of a rough hair shirt； which the Duke had worn beneath his robes； unknown to all； until his corpse was disrobed of his blood…stained garments。 His face looked full of calm； solemn peace； as if he had gently fallen asleep； and was only awaiting the great call to awaken。 There was not a single token of violence visible about him； save that one side of his forehead bore a deep purple mark； where he had first been struck by the blow of the oar which had deprived him of sense。
〃See you that； my Lord？〃 said Count Bernard； first breaking the silence； in a low； deep； stern voice。
Richard had heard little for many hours past save counsels against the Flemings； and plans of bitter enmity against them； and the sight of his murdered father； with that look and tone of the old Dane； fired his spirit； and breaking from his trance of silent awe and grief； he exclaimed； 〃I see it； and dearly shall the traitor Fleming abye it！〃 Then； encouraged by the applauding looks of the nobles； he proceeded； feeling like one of the young champions of Fru Astrida's songs。 His cheek was coloured； his eye lighted