The Little Duke: Richard the FearlessYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
General
The Little Duke: Richard the Fearless
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
Richard I, Duke of Normandy, approximately 932-996 -- Juvenile fiction
So the pony was led out. Alberic laid one hand on its mane, and vaulted
on its back in a moment. Both Osmond and Richard broke out loudly into
admiration. "Oh, this is nothing!" said Alberic. "Bertrand says it is
nothing. Before he grew old and stiff he could spring into the saddle in
this manner fully armed. I ought to do this much better."
Richard begged to be shown how to perform the exploit, and Alberic
repeated it; then Richard wanted to try, but the pony's patience would
not endure any longer, and Alberic said he had learnt on a block of wood,
and practised on the great wolf-hound. They wandered about a little
longer in the court, and then climbed up the spiral stone stairs to the
battlements at the top of the tower, where they looked at the house-tops
of Rouen close beneath, and the river Seine, broadening and glittering on
one side in its course to the sea, and on the other narrowing to a blue
ribbon, winding through the green expanse of fertile Normandy. They
threw the pebbles and bits of mortar down that they might hear them fall,
and tried which could stand nearest to the edge of the battlement without
being giddy. Richard was pleased to find that he could go the nearest,
and began to tell some of Fru Astrida's stories about the precipices of
Norway, among which when she was a young girl she used to climb about and
tend the cattle in the long light summer time. When the two boys came
down again into the hall to dinner, they felt as if they had known each
other all their lives. The dinner was laid out in full state, and
Richard had, as before, to sit in the great throne-like chair with the
old Count of Harcourt on one side, but, to his comfort, Fru Astrida was
on the other.
After the dinner, Alberic de Montemar rose to take his leave, as he was
to ride half way to his home that afternoon. Count Bernard, who all
dinner time had been watching him intently from under his shaggy
eye-brows, at this moment turned to Richard, whom he hardly ever
addressed, and said to him, "Hark ye, my Lord, what should you say to
have him yonder for a comrade?"
"To stay with me?" cried Richard, eagerly. "Oh, thanks, Sir Count; and
may he stay?"
"You are Lord here."
"Oh, Alberic!" cried Richard, jumping out of his chair of state, and
running up to him, "will you not stay with me, and be my brother and
comrade?"
Alberic looked down hesitating.
"Oh, say that you will! I will give you horses, and hawks, and hounds,
and I will love you--almost as well as Osmond. Oh, stay with me,
Alberic."
"I must obey you, my Lord," said Alberic, "but--"
"Come, young Frenchman, out with it," said Bernard,--"no buts! Speak
honestly, and at once, like a Norman, if you can."
This rough speech seemed to restore the little Baron's self-possession,
and he looked up bright and bold at the rugged face of the old Dane,
while he said, "I had rather not stay here."
"Ha! not do service to your Lord?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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