The Queen glanced at her, wondering how much she guessed, and suddenly conscious that she herself had changed colour. "And what device shall I set in this man's shield?" she asked, going back to the beginning, in order to avoid what touched her too closely. "A cross," answered Anne. "Let me see--why not your Grace's own? The Cross of Aquitaine?" But the Queen did not hear, for she was dreaming, and she saw Gilbert, in her thoughts, riding to sure death with a handful of brave men, riding into an ambush of the terrible Seljuks, pierced by their arrows--one in his white throat as he reeled back in the saddle, his eyes breaking in death. She shuddered, and then started as if waking. "What did you say?" she asked. "I was thinking of something else." "I said that your Grace might give him the Cross of Aquitaine for a device," answered the Lady of Auch. Her quiet black eyes watched the Queen, not in suspicion, but with a sort of deep and womanly sympathy; for she herself had loved well, and on the eighth day after she had wedded her husband, he had gone out with others against the Moors in the southern mountains; and they had brought him home on his shield, wrapped in salted hides, and she had seen his face. Therefore she had taken the Cross, not as many ladies had taken it, in lightness of heart, but earnestly, seeking a fair death on the field of honour for the hope of the life to come. "Yes," said the Queen, "he shall have the Cross of Aquitaine. Fetch me some gentleman or squire skilled with colours, and send for the Englishman's shield." "Madam," said Anne of Auch, "I myself can use a brush, and by your leave I will paint the device under your eyes." It was no uncommon thing in that day for a lady of France to understand such arts better than men, and Eleanor was glad, and ordered that the shield should be brought quickly, by two of the elder pages who were soon to be squires. But Alric, the groom, who lay in the shade outside Gilbert's tent, chewing blades of grass and wishing himself in England, would not let the messengers take the shield from the lance without authority, and he called Dunstan, who went and asked Gilbert what he should do. So Gilbert came and stood in the door of his tent, and spoke to the young men. "We know nothing, sir, save that we are bidden to bring your shield to the Queen." "Take it. And you shall tell her Grace from me that I crave excuse if the shield be of an old fashion, with rounded shoulders, for it was my father's; and you shall say also that she has power to take it, but that I will not sell it, nor take anything in return for it." The two young men looked at him strangely, as if doubting whether he were in his right mind. But as they went away together, the one who bore the shield said to the other that they should not give the message, for it was discourteous and might do harm to themselves. But the other was for telling the truth, since they could call Gilbert's men to witness of the words.