s I led in to the chamber of my lady the
vicomtesse, where with plenty demure damsels she plied her needle. Much
surprised was she to see me, and heard with a grave face my story.

"And thou art but sixteen," she said, "and art about so noble an
enterprise? My Alain has barely left his governor. Indeed, thy good
monks know how to teach chivalry."

Then I asked her the meaning of this fair tapestry that, stretched on a
long frame, she and her maidens toiled at round the chamber, for it
caught my eyes as showing, I thought, great exploits of arms. And she
told me that it was the exploits of Duke Rollo that she wrought there in
many colours, and that the Lady Matilda herself, who loved such
needlework, had made choice of the panels. In one I saw the ships being
made in far Norway; in another, in a goodly company they rode upon the
sea; in another, Rollo ate and drank with his fellows; and some
pictures told of battles, wherein I saw them in their close hauberks and
narrow shields, waving swords and driving their deadly spears.

"And in every picture," she said, "I love to work in one like my dear
lord in figure and knightly person, and to work the name of this great
family above."

"Ay, good aunt," cried I; "in sooth thou art like myself in pride of the
Norman race, that even now, in the glory of William, is worthy of its
forbears."

She smiled kindly as mine eyes sparkled, and said I was indeed a
knightly youth. Then, as we were left alone by the vicomte, she dropped
her voice, and gazing at me most tenderly, inquired if I had ever seen
my father.

"Nay, dear lady," said I, sadly but proudly, "I know not, from aught
that has been told me by any, whether he be alive or dead. Save that he
is my lord vicomte's brother, I know naught."

"Poor lad!" she murmured tenderly, "'tis time thou shouldst know more.
Yet it is a sad story. Know, then, thy father was a wild and untameable
youth, that was courteous and brave withal, but brooked not government
overmuch. He was, too, of a wondrous merry disposition, that loved a
jest at men in great places, and this made him not beloved. Against his
father's command he stole away thy mother, who perished in a raid of her
kinsmen upon his house, and in the minority of the duke he was found on
the side of violent men--and then he disappeared. Thou in thy baby
innocence wert the only charge he left us, and as soon as times were fit
thou wert sent to the Abbey of the Vale, which is inde