"
Gilbert understood how she loved him, as he had not understood before.
And yet her touch had no evil power to move him now, and the shadow of
his mother no longer haunted him in her eyes as he looked up. There,
beside the Christmas altar, in the Holy Night, she was trying to
complete the sacrifice of herself and her love. Gilbert answered her
earnestly.
"Madam," he said, "I shall try to do your will with all my heart, even
to death."
Thereafter he kept his word. But now he rose to his feet, and after
bending his knee again, he looked into the Queen's sad eyes, and passed
on to make way for the others, while the cheers that were for him still
rang in the air.
Then he began to walk to his tent. Dunstan had lighted a fresh torch
and was waiting for him. But the great barons, who had gone up to the
King and Queen before him, pressed round him and shook his hand, one
after another, and bade him to their feasting on the morrow; nor was
there jealousy of him, as there had been when he had saved the Queen's
life at Nicaea, for now that they saw him they felt that he was no
courtier, and desired only the safety of the army, with his own honour.
As they thronged about him, there came Sir Arnold de Curboil, pressing
his way among them, and when he was before Gilbert he also held out his
hand.
"Gilbert Warde," he asked, "do you not know me?"
"I know you, sir," answered the young knight, in a clear voice that all
could hear, "but I will not take your hand.
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