"I won't let you run into anything. I swear it," Redvers says, pointed as an unsharpened claw.

But the point is that he keeps his vows, so he makes good on it, resting his hand flat on Barrows' shoulder to give the kind of simple guidance that doesn't require words. Keep him straight on the path, nudge him a little that way, pinch his sleeve and pull to bring him back that way, while the crowd parts easily enough for two tall large men with something heavy.