The trumpets resounded through the camp of Marsillus. The unbelievers placed themselves in ambush beside the French line of march, and waited for the next morning. The clarions rang out through the camp of Charlemagne. The hour of departure had come. Charles rode proudly amid his gallant knights. “Who will lead the rear-guard through the passes of Cisaire?” asked the Emperor of his nobles. “Count Roland,” suggested Ganelon, “since he is the bravest. Does not the place of danger belong to him?” “Count of Mayence, some evil intention influences that speech.” “Why so, sire?” interposed Roland. “Sir Ganelon is right. The task is mine--I claim it.” “So be it,” said the Emperor. “My peers shall accompany you with twenty-five thousand horsemen.” “The Saracens will have a hot day’s work,” said Ganelon to himself. The Saracens were concealed in the forests at the entrance of the pass. The Navarrese and Gascons (everlasting shame upon them!) were lying in ambush on the heights, ready to hurl death upon their brother Christians. The vanguard, consisting of twenty thousand men, led by Ogier the Dane, was first to present itself. But it was not they who were wanted---they were allowed to pass. Charlemagne came next, with Ganelon in attendance upon him. For six hours the troops, the wagons, the booty, were slowly marching through the defile. There was an abundance of wealth; but who dared touch it? They were suffered to pass. Finally came the rear-guard, led by Roland. Then the Pagans began to be on the move, the Gascons prepared for action. The great carnage was about to begin. Marsillus was on horseback at the head of his troops. Buriabel, King of Alexandria, came swaggering up to him. “Sire, I have brought you thirty thousand soldiers, fully armed. I have not hesitated to risk my life in your service. In return for this, I only ask one thing--the honour of despatching Roland. If I meet him, he dies!” “You forget, it appears to me,” said the King of Saragossa, in a severe tone, “that I am here. I am not in the habit of handing over difficult tasks to others; Roland belongs to me! You will have enough to do with the rest.” Then, armed to the teeth, they rode forward in serried ranks. The Franks entered the pass. Roland halted them, and spoke:--“Brothers in arms! We are going to have a tough day’s work. But few of us will ever again behold fair France. Ganelon, the traitor, has brought us to this evil pass! He has sold us to the Saracens. In a few minutes these rocks will be hurled down upon us, and we shall hear the Saracen trumpets sounding. They do not know that we are forewarned, and the sound of our bugles will be the signal. Let those who are in doubt about our safety, therefore, leave us to join the main body. But let those, who desire wounds more awful than death--those who are ready to sacrifice their lives, in order to be revenged on Ganelon--let those remain with me!” Not a single knight quitted the ranks.