For it seemed a great thing to have been chosen to lead
so many through a wilderness full of danger, and to know that more than
a hundred thousand lives had been in his keeping, as it were, for two
months, and were to be in his hand again, till he should lead them
safely into Syria, or perish himself and leave his task to another. It
was a task worth accomplishing and a trust worth his life.
Then, at midnight, he was walking in a great procession after the King
and Queen. Modestly he joined the ranks, and his man walked beside him
carrying a torch, so that the light fell full upon his face. Some one
knew him, and spoke to his neighbour.
"That is Sir Gilbert Warde, who is our guide," he said.
In an instant word ran along the line that he was there; and in a few
minutes a messenger came breathless, asking for him, and then the
herald of France, Montjoye Saint Denis, came after, bidding him to a
foremost place, in the name of the King and Queen. So he followed the
herald, whose runner walked before him, as had been bidden by Eleanor
herself.
"Make way for the Guide of Aquitaine!" cried the squire, in a loud
voice.
Knights and men-at-arms stood aside to let him pass, and the tall
Englishman went between them, courteously bending his head to thank
those who moved out of his way, and deprecating the high honour that
was done him. He heard his name repeated, both by men whose faces he
could see in the light around him, when the torches blazed and flamed,
and also from the darkness beyond.
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