On the morrow, perhaps, there would be a battle, and he would be in it.

For a time he was obliged to labor to make himself believe.

He could not accept with assurance an omen that he was about to mingle in one of those great affairs of the earth.
He had, of course, dreamed of battles all his life--of vague and bloody conflicts that had thrilled him with their sweep and fire.

In visions he had seen himself in many struggles.

He had imagined peoples secure in the shadow of his eagle-eyed prowess.