at full
speed, as he wished to spare the horse. The twilight faded, the stars
came out, and still he rode, his arm round the child, who, as night
advanced, grew weary, and often sunk into a sort of half doze, conscious
all the time of the trot of the horse. But each step was taking him
further from Queen Gerberge, and nearer to Normandy; and what recked he
of weariness? On--on; the stars grew pale again, and the first pink
light of dawn showed in the eastern sky; the sun rose, mounted higher and
higher, and the day grew hotter; the horse went more slowly, stumbled,
and though Osmond halted and loosed the girth, he only mended his pace
for a little while.

Osmond looked grievously perplexed; but they had not gone much further
before a party of merchants came in sight, winding their way with a long
train of loaded mules, and stout men to guard them, across the plains,
like an eastern caravan in the desert. They gazed in surprise at the
tall young Norman holding the child upon the worn-out war-horse.

"Sir merchant," said Osmond to the first, "see you this steed? Better
horse never was ridden; but he is sorely spent, and we must make speed.
Let me barter him with you for yonder stout palfrey. He is worth twice
as much, but I cannot stop to chaffer--ay or no at once."

The merchant, seeing the value of Osmond's gallant black, accepted the
offer; and Osmond removing his saddle, and placing Richard on his new
steed, again mounted, and on they went through the country which Osmond's
eye had marked with the sagacity men acquire by living in wild, unsettled
places. The great marshes were now far less dangerous than in the
winter, and they safely crossed them. There had, as yet, been no
pursuit, and Osmond's only fear was for his little charge, who, not
having recovered his full strength since his illness, began to suffer
greatly from fatigue in the heat of that broiling summer day, and leant
against Osmond patiently, but very wearily, without moving or looking up.
He scarcely revived when the sun went down, and a cool breeze sprang up,
which much refreshed Osmond himself; and still more did it refresh the
Squire to see, at length, winding through the green pastures, a blue
river, on the opposite bank of which rose a high rocky mound, bearing a
castle with many a turret and battlement.

"The Epte! the Epte! There is Normandy, sir! Look up, and see your own
dukedom." "Normandy!" cried Richard, sitting upright. "Oh,