[Illustration: LANCELOT BEARS OFF GUENEVERE (p. 153)] THE BOOK OF ROMANCE EDITED BY ANDREW LANG _WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS BY H. J. FORD_ LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON NEW YORK AND BOMBAY 1902 Copyright 1902 BY LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO. * * * * * _PREFACE_ It is to be supposed that children do not read Prefaces; these areBluebeard's rooms, which they are not curious to unlock. A few wordsmay therefore be said about the Romances contained in this book. Inthe editor's opinion, romances are only fairy tales grown up. Thewhole mass of the plot and incident of romance was invented by nobodyknows who, nobody knows when, nobody knows where. Almost every peoplehas the Cinderella story, with all sorts of variations: a boy hero inplace of a girl heroine, a beast in place of a fairy godmother, and soon. The Zuñis, an agricultural tribe of New Mexico, have a version inwhich the moral turns out to be against poor Cinderella, who comes toan ill end. The Red Indians have the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice, told in a very touching shape, but without the music. On the otherhand, the negroes in the States have the Orpheus tale, adapted toplantation life, in a form which is certainly borrowed from Europeans. This version was sent to me some years ago, by Mr. Barnet Phillips, Brooklyn, New York, and I give it here for its curiosity. If theproper names, Jim Orpus and Dicey, had not been given, we might notfeel absolutely certain that the story was borrowed. It is a goodexample of adaptation from the heroic age of Greece to the servile ageof Africans. DICEY AND ORPUS Dat war eber so long ago, 'cause me granmammy tell me so. It h'aint nowhite-folks yarn--no Sah. Gall she war call Dicey, an' she war bornedon de plantation. Whar Jim Orpus kum from, granmammy she disremember. He war a boss-fiddler, he war, an' jus' that powerful, dat when demules in de cotton field listen to um, dey no budge in de furrer. Orpus he neber want no mess of fish, ketched wid a angle. He just takehim fiddle an' fool along de branch, an' play a tune, an' up deycomes, an' he cotch 'em in he hans. He war mighty sot on Dicey, an'dey war married all proper an' reg'lar. Hit war so long ago, dat derailroad war a bran-new spick an' span ting in dose days. Dicey onceshe lounge 'round de track, 'cause she tink she hear Orpus a fiddlin'in de fur-fur-away. Onyways de hengine smash her. Den Jim Orpus hetook on turrible, an' when she war buried, he sot him down on degrave, an' he fiddle an' he fiddle till most yo' heart was bruk. An' he play so long dat de groun' crummle (crumble) an' sink, an' nex'day, when de peoples look for Jim Orpus, dey no find um; oney big-holein de lot, an' nobody never see Jim Orpus no mo'. An' dey do say, datef yo' go inter a darky's burial-groun', providin' no white man beenplanted thar, an' yo' clap yo' ear to de groun', yo' can hear Jim'sfiddle way down deep belo', a folloin' Dicey fru' de lan' of de GoldenSlippah. [1] [Footnote 1: Mr. Phillips, writing in 1896, says that the tale wastold him by a plantation hand, thirty years ago, 'long before theUncle Remus period. '] * * * * * The original touch, the sound of Orpus's fiddle heard only in thegraveyards of the negroes (like the fairy music under the fairy hillat Ballachulish), is very remarkable. Now the Red Indian story has noharper, and no visit by the hero to the land of the dead. His griefbrings his wife back to him, and he loses her again by breaking ataboo, as Orpheus did by looking back, a thing always forbidden. Thuswe do not know whether or not the Red Indian version is borrowed fromthe European myth, probably enough it is not. But in no case--noteven when the same plot and incidents occur among Egyptians and theCentral Australian tribes, or among the frosty Samoyeds and Eskimo, the Samoans, the Andamanese, the Zulus, and the Japanese, as well asamong Celts and ancient Greeks--can we be absolutely certain that thestory has not been diffused and borrowed, in the backward of time. Thus the date and place of origin of these eternal stories, thegroundwork of ballads and popular tales, can never be ascertained. Theoldest known version may be found in the literature of Egypt orChaldĉa, but it is an obvious fallacy to argue that the place oforigin must be the place where the tale was first written down inhieroglyph or cuneiform characters. There the stories are: they are as common among the remotest savagesas among the peasants of Hungary, France, or Assynt. They bear all thebirth-marks of an early society, with the usual customs andsuperstitions of man in such a stage of existence. Their oldest andleast corrupted forms exist among savages, and people who do not readand write. But when reading and writing and a class of professionalminstrels and tellers of tales arose, these men invented no new plots, but borrowed the plots and incidents of the world-old popular stories. They adapted these to their own condition of society, just as theplantation negroes adapted Orpheus and Eurydice. They elevated thenameless heroes and heroines into Kings, Queens, and Knights, Odysseus, Arthur, Charlemagne, Diarmid, and the rest. They took anancient popular tale, known all over the earth, and attributed theadventures of the characters to historical persons, like Charlemagneand his family, or to Saints, for the legends of early Celtic Saintsare full of fairy-tale materials. Characters half historic, halffabulous, like Arthur, were endowed with fairy gifts, and inheritedthe feats of nameless imaginary heroes. The results of this uncritical literary handling of elements reallypopular were the national romances of Arthur, of Charlemagne, ofSigurd, or of Etzel. The pagan legends were Christianised, like thatof Beowulf; they were expanded into measureless length, whole cycleswere invented about the heroic families; poets altered the materialseach in his own way and to serve his own purpose, and often to glorifyhis own country. If the Saracens told their story of Roland atRoncevalles, it would be very different from that of the old Frankish_chansons de geste_. Thus the romances are a mixture of popular tales, of literary invention, and of history as transmitted in legend. To thecharm of fairy tale they add the fascination of the age of chivalry, yet I am not sure but that children will prefer the fairy tale pureand simple, nor am I sure that their taste would be wrong, if theydid. In the versions here offered, the story of Arthur is taken mainly fromMalory's compilation, from sources chiefly French, but the opening ofthe Graal story is adapted from Mr. Sebastian Evans's 'High History ofthe Holy Graal, ' a masterpiece of the translator's art. For permissionto adapt this chapter I have to thank the kindness of Mr. Evans. The story of Roland is from the French Epic, probably of the eleventhcentury, but resting on earlier materials, legend and ballad. WilliamShort Nose is also from the _chanson de geste_ of that hero. The story of Diarmid, ancient Irish and also current among theDalriadic invaders of Argyle, is taken from the translations in theTransactions of the Ossianic Society. The story of Robin Hood is from the old English ballads of thecourteous outlaw, whose feast, in Scotland, fell in the early days ofMay. His alleged date varies between the ages of Richard I. And EdwardII. , but all the labours of the learned have thrown no light on thispopular hero. A child can see how _English_ Robin is, how human, and possible andgood-humoured are his character and feats, while Arthur is halfCeltic, half French and chivalrous, and while the deeds of the FrenchRoland, and of the Celtic Diarmid, are exaggerated beyond thepossible. There is nothing of the fairylike in Robin, and he has nothirst for the Ideal. Had we given the adventures of Sir WilliamWallace, from Blind Harry, it would have appeared that the LowlandScots could exaggerate like other people. The story of Wayland the Smith is very ancient. An ivory in theBritish Museum, apparently of the eighth century, represents Waylandmaking the cups out of the skulls. As told here the legend is adaptedfrom the amplified version by Oehlenschläger. Scott's use of the storyin 'Kenilworth' will be remembered. All the romances are written by Mrs. Lang, except the story of Grettirthe Strong, done by Mr. H. S. C. Everard from the saga translated byMr. William Morris. A. LANG. * * * * * _CONTENTS_ PAGE _The Drawing of the Sword_ 3 _The Questing Beast_ 9 _The Sword Excalibur_ 14 _The Story of Sir Balin_ 16 _How the Round Table began_ 25 _The Passing of Merlin_ 31 _How Morgan Le Fay tried to kill King Arthur_ 33 _What Beaumains asked of the King_ 38 _The Quest of the Holy Graal_ 64 _The Fight for the Queen_ 102 _The Fair Maid of Astolat_ 113 _Lancelot and Guenevere_ 132 _The End of it All_ 160 _The Battle of Roncevalles_ 177 _The Pursuit of Diarmid_ 215 _Some Adventures of William Short Nose_ 253 _Wayland the Smith_ 293 _The Story of Robin Hood_ 323 _The Story of Grettir the Strong_ 359 * * * * * _ILLUSTRATIONS_ _COLOURED PLATES_ _Lancelot bears off Guenevere_ (p. 153) _Frontispiece_ _Arthur meets the Lady of the Lake_ _to face p_. 14 _Lancelot at the Chapel_ " 77 _Guenevere and Sir Bors_ " 106 _Lancelot brings Guenevere to Arthur_ " 132 _Alix kisses Rainouart_ " 275 _Slagfid pursues the Wraith over the Mountains_ " 301 _The Chariot of Freya_ " 318 _FULL-PAGE PLATES_ _How Arthur drew the Sword_ _to face p_. 4 _Arthur and the Questing Beast_ " 10 _The Death of Balin and Balan_ " 20 _Merlin and Vivien_ " 31 _Morgan Le Fay casts away the Scabbard_ " 34 _Gareth and Linet_ " 41 _Linet and the Black Knight_ " 46 _The Lady of Lyonesse sees Sir Gareth_ " 54 _Sir Galahad opens the Tomb_ " 72 _Sir Percivale slays the Serpent_ " 80 _Lancelot and the Dwarf_ " 96 _Arthur and Guenevere kiss before all the People_ " 108 _Elaine ties her Sleeve round Sir Lancelot's Helmet_ " 116 _The Black Barget_ " 127 _The Archers threaten Lancelot_ " 138 _Sir Mordred_ _to face p_. 164 _Excalibur returns to the Mere_ " 168 _Charlemagne_ " 178 _Marsile threatens Ganélon with a Javelin_ " 184 _Roland winds his horn in the Valley of Roncevalles_. . . . . . . . " 202 _Grania questions the Druid_ " 216 _Diarmid seizes the Giant's Club_ " 230 _Diarmid and Grania in the Quicken Tree_ " 236 _The Death of Diarmid_ " 242 _Vivian's last Confession_ " 256 _The Lady Alix stays the wrath of William Short Nose_ " 270 _The Lady Gibourc with Rainouart in the Kitchen_ " 278 _Rainouart stops the Cowards_ " 282 _The Three Women by the Stream_ " 294 _Wayland mocked by the Queen and Banvilda_ " 310 _The Merman warns Banvilda in vain_ " 314 _'There is pith in your arm, ' said Robin Hood_ " 346 _Robin Hood shoots his last Arrow_ " 354 _Grettir feels Karr's grip_ " 362 _Grettir overthrows Thorir Redbeard_ " 372 IN TEXT PAGE _The Damsel warns Sir Balin_ 19 _How Sir Bors was saved from killing his Brother_ 88 _Sir Mador accuses Guenevere_ 104 _Guenevere sends her Page to Lancelot for help_ 136 _Lancelot comes out of Guenevere's room_ 148 _The Dream of Charlemagne_ 193 _The Captives: William Short Nose rides to the rescue_ 263 _The Witch Thurid cuts a charm on the log_ 381 * * * * * TALES OF THE ROUND TABLE _THE DRAWING OF THE SWORD_ Long, long ago, after Uther Pendragon died, there was no King inBritain, and every Knight hoped to seize the crown for himself. Thecountry was like to fare ill when laws were broken on every side, andthe corn which was to give the poor bread was trodden underfoot, andthere was none to bring the evildoer to justice. Then, when thingswere at their worst, came forth Merlin the magician, and fast he rodeto the place where the Archbishop of Canterbury had his dwelling. Andthey took counsel together, and agreed that all the lords andgentlemen of Britain should ride to London and meet on Christmas Day, now at hand, in the Great Church. So this was done. And on Christmasmorning, as they left the church, they saw in the churchyard a largestone, and on it a bar of steel, and in the steel a naked sword washeld, and about it was written in letters of gold, 'Whoso pulleth outthis sword is by right of birth King of England. ' They marvelled atthese words, and called for the Archbishop, and brought him into theplace where the stone stood. Then those Knights who fain would be Kingcould not hold themselves back, and they tugged at the sword with alltheir might; but it never stirred. The Archbishop watched them insilence, but when they were faint from pulling he spoke: 'The man isnot here who shall lift out that sword, nor do I know where to findhim. But this is my counsel--that two Knights be chosen, good and truemen, to keep guard over the sword. ' Thus it was done. But the lords and gentlemen-at-arms cried out thatevery man had a right to try to win the sword, and they decided thaton New Year's Day a tournament should be held, and any Knight whowould, might enter the lists. So on New Year's Day, the Knights, as their custom was, went to hearservice in the Great Church, and after it was over they met in thefield to make ready for the tourney. Among them was a brave Knightcalled Sir Ector, who brought with him Sir Kay, his son, and Arthur, Kay's foster-brother. Now Kay had unbuckled his sword the eveningbefore, and in his haste to be at the tourney had forgotten to put iton again, and he begged Arthur to ride back and fetch it for him. Butwhen Arthur reached the house the door was locked, for the women hadgone out to see the tourney, and though Arthur tried his best to getin he could not. Then he rode away in great anger, and said tohimself, 'Kay shall not be without a sword this day. I will take thatsword in the churchyard, and give it to him'; and he galloped fasttill he reached the gate of the churchyard. Here he jumped down andtied his horse tightly to a tree, then, running up to the stone, heseized the handle of the sword, and drew it easily out; afterwards hemounted his horse again, and delivered the sword to Sir Kay. Themoment Sir Kay saw the sword he knew it was not his own, but the swordof the stone, and he sought out his father Sir Ector, and said to him, 'Sir, this is the sword of the stone, therefore I am the rightfulKing. ' Sir Ector made no answer, but signed to Kay and Arthur tofollow him, and they all three went back to the church. Leaving theirhorses outside, they entered the choir, and here Sir Ector took a holybook and bade Sir Kay swear how he came by that sword. 'My brotherArthur gave it to me, ' replied Sir Kay. 'How did you come by it?'asked Sir Ector, turning to Arthur. 'Sir, ' said Arthur, 'when I rodehome for my brother's sword I found no one to deliver it to me, and asI resolved he should not be swordless I thought of the sword inthis stone, and I pulled it out. ' 'Were any Knights present when youdid this?' asked Sir Ector. 'No, none, ' said Arthur. 'Then it is you, 'said Sir Ector, 'who are the rightful King of this land. ' 'But why amI the King?' inquired Arthur. 'Because, ' answered Sir Ector, 'this isan enchanted sword, and no man could draw it but he who was born aKing. Therefore put the sword back into the stone, and let me see youtake it out. ' 'That is soon done, ' said Arthur replacing the sword, and Sir Ector himself tried to draw it, but he could not. 'Now it isyour turn, ' he said to Sir Kay, but Sir Kay fared no better than hisfather, though he tugged with all his might and main. 'Now you, Arthur, ' and Arthur pulled it out as easily as if it had been lying inits sheath, and as he did so Sir Ector and Sir Kay sank on their kneesbefore him. 'Why do you, my father and brother, kneel to me?' askedArthur in surprise. 'Nay, nay, my lord, ' answered Sir Ector, 'I wasnever your father, though till to-day I did not know who your fatherreally was. You are the son of Uther Pendragon, and you were broughtto me when you were born by Merlin himself, who promised that when thetime came I should know from whom you sprang. And now it has beenrevealed to me. ' But when Arthur heard that Sir Ector was not hisfather, he wept bitterly. 'If I am King, ' he said at last, 'ask whatyou will, and I shall not fail you. For to you, and to my lady andmother, I owe more than to anyone in the world, for she loved me andtreated me as her son. ' 'Sir, ' replied Sir Ector, I only ask that youwill make your foster-brother, Sir Kay, Seneschal[2] of all yourlands. ' 'That I will readily, ' answered Arthur, 'and while he and Ilive no other shall fill that office. ' [Footnote 2: 'Seneschal' means steward. ] [Illustration: HOW ARTHUR DREW THE SWORD] Sir Ector then bade them seek out the Archbishop with him, and theytold him all that had happened concerning the sword, which Arthur hadleft standing in the stone. And on the Twelfth Day the Knights andBarons came again, but none could draw it out but Arthur. When theysaw this, many of the Barons became angry and cried out that theywould never own a boy for King whose blood was no better than theirown. So it was agreed to wait till Candlemas, when more Knights mightbe there, and meanwhile the same two men who had been chosen beforewatched the sword night and day; but at Candlemas it was the samething, and at Easter. And when Pentecost came, the common people whowere present, and saw Arthur pull out the sword, cried with one voicethat he was their King, and they would kill any man who saiddifferently. Then rich and poor fell on their knees before him, andArthur took the sword and offered it upon the altar where theArchbishop stood, and the best man that was there made him Knight. After that the crown was put on his head, and he swore to his lordsand commons that he would be a true King, and would do them justiceall the days of his life. _THE QUESTING BEAST_ But Arthur had many battles to fight and many Kings to conquer beforehe was acknowledged lord of them all, and often he would have failedhad he not listened to the wisdom of Merlin, and been helped by hissword Excalibur, which in obedience to Merlin's orders he never drewtill things were going ill with him. Later it shall be told how theKing got the sword Excalibur, which shone so bright in his enemies'eyes that they fell back, dazzled by the brightness. Many Knights cameto his standard, and among them Sir Ban, King of Gaul beyond the sea, who was ever his faithful friend. And it was in one of these wars, when King Arthur and King Ban and King Bors went to the rescue of theKing of Cameliard, that Arthur saw Guenevere, the King's daughter, whom he afterwards wedded. By and by King Ban and King Bors returnedto their own country across the sea, and the King went to Carlion, atown on the river Usk, where a strange dream came to him. He thought that the land was over-run with gryphons and serpents whichburnt and slew his people, and he made war on the monsters, and wassorely wounded, though at last he killed them all. When he awoke theremembrance of his dream was heavy upon him, and to shake it off hesummoned his Knights to hunt with him, and they rode fast till theyreached a forest. Soon they spied a hart before them, which the Kingclaimed as his game, and he spurred his horse and rode after him. Butthe hart ran fast and the King could not get near it, and the chaselasted so long that the King himself grew heavy and his horse felldead under him. Then he sat under a tree and rested, till he heard thebaying of hounds, and fancied he counted as many as thirty of them. Heraised his head to look, and, coming towards him, saw a beast sostrange that its like was not to be found throughout his kingdom. Itwent straight to the well and drank, making as it did so the noise ofmany hounds baying, and when it had drunk its fill the beast went itsway. While the King was wondering what sort of a beast this could be, aKnight rode by, who, seeing a man lying under a tree, stopped and saidto him: 'Knight full of thought and sleepy, tell me if a strange beasthas passed this way?' 'Yes, truly, ' answered Arthur, 'and by now it must be two milesdistant. What do you want with it?' 'Oh sir, I have followed that beast from far, ' replied he, 'and haveridden my horse to death. If only I could find another I would stillgo after it. ' As he spoke a squire came up leading a fresh horse forthe King, and when the Knight saw it he prayed that it might be givento him, 'for, ' said he, 'I have followed this quest this twelvemonth, and either I shall slay him or he will slay me. ' 'Sir Knight, ' answered the King, 'you have done your part; leave nowyour quest, and let me follow the beast for the same time that youhave done. ' 'Ah, fool!' replied the Knight, whose name was Pellinore, 'it would be all in vain, for none may slay that beast but I or mynext of kin'; and without more words he sprang into the saddle. 'Youmay take my horse by force, ' said the King, 'but I should like toprove first which of us two is the better horseman. ' [Illustration: ARTHUR AND THE QUESTING BEAST] 'Well, ' answered the Knight, 'when you want me, come to this spring. Here you will always find me, ' and, spurring his horse, he gallopedaway. The King watched him till he was out of sight, then turned tohis squire and bade him bring another horse as quickly as he could. While he was waiting for it the wizard Merlin came along in thelikeness of a boy, and asked the King why he was so thoughtful. 'I may well be thoughtful, ' replied the King, 'for I have seen themost wonderful sight in all the world. ' 'That I know well, ' said Merlin, 'for I know all your thoughts. But itis folly to let your mind dwell on it, for thinking will mend nothing. I know, too, that Uther Pendragon was your father, and your mother wasthe Lady Igraine. ' 'How can a boy like you know that?' cried Arthur, growing angry; butMerlin only answered, 'I know it better than any man living, ' andpassed, returning soon after in the likeness of an old man offourscore, and sitting down by the well to rest. 'What makes you so sad?' asked he. 'I may well be sad, ' replied Arthur, 'there is plenty to make me so. And besides, there was a boy here who told me things that he had nobusiness to know, and among them the names of my father and mother. ' 'He told you the truth, ' said the old man, 'and if you would havelistened he could have told you still more; how that your sister shallhave a child who shall destroy you and all your Knights. ' 'Who are you?' asked Arthur, wondering. 'I am Merlin, and it was I who came to you in the likeness of a boy. Iknow all things; how that you shall die a noble death, being slain inbattle, while my end will be shameful, for I shall be put alive intothe earth. ' There was no time to say more, for the man brought up the King'shorse, and he mounted, and rode fast till he came to Carlion. _THE SWORD EXCALIBUR_ King Arthur had fought a hard battle with the tallest Knight in allthe land, and though he struck hard and well, he would have been slainhad not Merlin enchanted the Knight and cast him into a deep sleep, and brought the King to a hermit who had studied the art of healing, and cured all his wounds in three days. Then Arthur and Merlin waitedno longer, but gave the hermit thanks and departed. As they rode together Arthur said, 'I have no sword, ' but Merlin badehim be patient and he would soon give him one. In a little while theycame to a large lake, and in the midst of the lake Arthur beheld anarm rising out of the water, holding up a sword. 'Look!' said Merlin, 'that is the sword I spoke of. ' And the King looked again, and amaiden stood upon the water. 'That is the Lady of the Lake, ' saidMerlin, 'and she is coming to you, and if you ask her courteously shewill give you the sword. ' So when the maiden drew near Arthur salutedher and said, 'Maiden, I pray you tell me whose sword is that which anarm is holding out of the water? I wish it were mine, for I have lostmy sword. ' 'That sword is mine, King Arthur, ' answered she, 'and I will give itto you, if you in return will give me a gift when I ask you. ' [Illustration: ARTHUR MEETS THE LADY OF THE LAKE AND GETS THE SWORDEXCALIBUR] 'By my faith, ' said the King, 'I will give you whatever gift you ask. ''Well, ' said the maiden, 'get into the barge yonder, and row yourselfto the sword, and take it and the scabbard with you. ' For this was thesword Excalibur. 'As for _my_ gift, I will ask it in my own time. 'Then King Arthur and Merlin dismounted from their horses and tied themup safely, and went into the barge, and when they came to the placewhere the arm was holding the sword Arthur took it by the handle, andthe arm disappeared. And they brought the sword back to land. As theyrode the King looked lovingly on his sword, which Merlin saw, and, smiling, said, 'Which do you like best, the sword or the scabbard?' 'Ilike the sword, ' answered Arthur. 'You are not wise to say that, 'replied Merlin, 'for the scabbard is worth ten of the sword, and aslong as it is buckled on you you will lose no blood, however sorelyyou may be wounded. ' So they rode into the town of Carlion, andArthur's Knights gave them a glad welcome, and said it was a joy toserve under a King who risked his life as much as any common man. _THE STORY OF SIR BALIN_ In those days many Kings reigned in the Islands of the Sea, and theyconstantly waged war upon each other, and on their liege lord, andnews came to Arthur that Ryons, King of North Wales, had collected alarge host and had ravaged his lands and slain some of his people. When he heard this, Arthur rose in anger, and commanded that alllords, Knights, and gentlemen of arms should meet him at Camelot, where he would call a council, and hold a tourney. From every part the Knights flocked to Camelot, and the town was fullto overflowing of armed men and their horses. And when they were allassembled, there rode in a damsel, who said she had come with amessage from the great Lady Lile of Avelion, and begged that theywould bring her before King Arthur. When she was led into his presenceshe let her mantle of fur slip off her shoulders, and they saw that byher side a richly wrought sword was buckled. The King was silent withwonder at the strange sight, but at last he said, 'Damsel, why do youwear this sword? for swords are not the ornaments of women. ' 'Oh, mylord, ' answered she, 'I would I could find some Knight to rid me ofthis sword, which weighs me down and causes me much sorrow. But theman who will deliver me of it must be one who is mighty of his hands, and pure in his deeds, without villainy, or treason. If I find aKnight such as this, he will draw this sword out of its sheath, andhe only. For I have been at the Court of King Ryons, and he and hisKnights tried with all their strength to draw the sword and they couldnot. ' 'Let me see if I can draw it, ' said Arthur, 'not because I thinkmyself the best Knight, for well I know how far I am outdone byothers, but to set them an example that they may follow me. ' With thatthe King took the sword by the sheath and by the girdle, and pulled atit with all his force, but the sword stuck fast. 'Sir, ' said thedamsel, 'you need not pull half so hard, for he that shall pull it outshall do it with little strength. ' 'It is not for me, ' answeredArthur, 'and now, my Barons, let each man try his fortune. ' So most ofthe Knights of the Round Table there present pulled, one afteranother, at the sword, but none could stir it from its sheath. 'Alas!alas!' cried the damsel in great grief, 'I thought to find in thisCourt Knights that were blameless and true of heart, and now I knownot where to look for them. ' 'By my faith, ' said Arthur, 'there are nobetter Knights in the world than these of mine, but I am soredispleased that they cannot help me in this matter. ' Now at that time there was a poor Knight at Arthur's Court who hadbeen kept prisoner for a year and a half because he had slain theKing's cousin. He was of high birth and his name was Balin, and afterhe had suffered eighteen months the punishment of his misdeed theBarons prayed the King to set him free, which Arthur did willingly. When Balin, standing apart beheld the Knights one by one try thesword, and fail to draw it, his heart beat fast, yet he shrank fromtaking his turn, for he was meanly dressed, and could not compare withthe other Barons. But after the damsel had bid farewell to Arthur andhis Court, and was setting out on her journey homewards, he called toher and said, 'Damsel, I pray you to suffer me to try your sword, aswell as these lords, for though I am so poorly clothed, my heart is ashigh as theirs. ' The damsel stopped and looked at him, and answered, 'Sir, it is not needful to put you to such trouble, for where so manyhave failed it is hardly likely that you will succeed. ' 'Ah! fairdamsel, ' said Balin, 'it is not fine clothes that make good deeds. ''You speak truly, ' replied the damsel, 'therefore do what you can. 'Then Balin took the sword by the girdle and sheath, and pulled it outeasily, and when he looked at the sword he was greatly pleased withit. The King and the Knights were dumb with surprise that it was Balinwho had triumphed over them, and many of them envied him and feltanger towards him. 'In truth, ' said the damsel, 'this is the bestKnight that I ever found, but, Sir, I pray you give me the swordagain. ' 'No, ' answered Balin, 'I will keep it till it is taken from me byforce. ' 'It is for your sake, not mine, that I ask for it, ' said thedamsel, 'for with that sword you shall slay the man you love best, andit shall bring about your own ruin. ' 'I will take what befalls me, 'replied Balin, 'but the sword I will not give up, by the faith of mybody. ' So the damsel departed in great sorrow. The next day Sir Balinleft the Court, and, armed with his sword, set forth in search ofadventures, which he found in many places where he had not thought tomeet with them. In all the fights that he fought, Sir Balin was thevictor, and Arthur, and Merlin his friend, knew that there was noKnight living of greater deeds, or more worthy of worship. And he wasknown to all as Sir Balin le Savage, the Knight of the two swords. One day he was riding forth when at the turning of a road he saw across, and on it was written in letters of gold, 'Let no Knight ridetowards this castle. ' Sir Balin was still reading the writing whenthere came towards him an old man with white hair, who said, 'SirBalin le Savage, this is not the way for you, so turn again and choosesome other path. ' And so he vanished, and a horn blew loudly, as ahorn is blown at the death of a beast. 'That blast, ' said Balin, 'isfor me, but I am still alive, ' and he rode to the castle, where agreat company of knights and ladies met him and welcomed him, and madehim a feast. Then the lady of the castle said to him, 'Knight with thetwo swords, you must now fight a Knight that guards an island, for itis our law that no man may leave us without he first fight a tourney. ' [Illustration: The Damsel Warns Sir Balin. ] 'That is a bad custom, ' said Balin, 'but if I must I am ready; forthough my horse is weary my heart is strong. ' 'Sir, ' said a Knight to him, 'your shield does not look whole to me; Iwill lend you another'; so Balin listened to him and took the shieldthat was offered, and left his own with his own coat of arms behindhim. He rode down to the shore, and led his horse into a boat, whichtook them across. When he reached the other side, a damsel came to himcrying, 'O Knight Balin, why have you left your own shield behind you?Alas! you have put yourself in great danger, for by your shield youshould have been known. I grieve over your doom, for there is no manliving that can rival you for courage and bold deeds. ' 'I repent, ' answered Balin, 'ever having come into this country, butfor very shame I must go on. Whatever befalls me, either for life ordeath, I am ready to take it. ' Then he examined his armour, and sawthat it was whole, and mounted his horse. As he went along the path he beheld a Knight come out of a castle infront, clothed in red, riding a horse with red trappings. When thisred Knight looked on the two swords, he thought for a moment it wasBalin, but the shield did not bear Balin's device. So they rode ateach other with their spears, and smote each other's shields so hardthat both horses and men fell to the ground with the shock, and theKnights lay unconscious on the ground for some minutes. But soon theyrose up again and began the fight afresh, and they fought till theplace was red with their blood, and they had each seven great wounds. 'What Knight are you?' asked Balin le Savage, pausing for breath, 'fornever before have I found any Knight to match me. ' 'My name, ' said he, 'is Balan, brother to the good Knight Balin. ' [Illustration: The Death of Balin and Balan] 'Alas!' cried Balin, 'that I should ever live to see this day, ' and hefell back fainting to the ground. At this sight Balan crept on hisfeet and hands, and pulled off Balin's helmet, so that he might seehis face. The fresh air revived Balin, and he awoke and said: 'OBalan, my brother, you have slain me, and I you, and the whole worldshall speak ill of us both. ' 'Alas, ' sighed Balan, 'if I had only known you! I saw your two swords, but from your shield I thought you had been another knight. ' 'Woe is me!' said Balin, 'all this was wrought by an unhappy knight inthe castle, who caused me to change my shield for his. If I lived, Iwould destroy that castle that he should not deceive other men. ' 'You would have done well, ' answered Balan, 'for they have kept meprisoner ever since I slew a Knight that guarded this island, and theywould have kept you captive too. ' Then came the lady of the castle andher companions, and listened as they made their moan. And Balan prayedthat she would grant them the grace to lie together, there where theydied, and their wish was given them, and she and those that were withher wept for pity. So they died; and the lady made a tomb for them, and put Balan's namealone on it, for Balin's name she knew not. But Merlin knew, and nextmorning he came and wrote it in letters of gold, and he ungirdedBalin's sword, and unscrewed the pommel, and put another pommel on it, and bade a Knight that stood by handle it, but the Knight could not. At that Merlin laughed. 'Why do you laugh?' asked the Knight. 'Because, ' said Merlin, 'no man shall handle this sword but the bestKnight in the world, and that is either Sir Lancelot or his son SirGalahad. With this sword Sir Lancelot shall slay the man he lovesbest, and Sir Gawaine is his name. ' And this was later done, in afight across the seas. All this Merlin wrote on the pommel of the sword. Next he made abridge of steel to the island, six inches broad, and no man could passover it that was guilty of any evil deeds. The scabbard of the swordhe left on this side of the island, so that Galahad should find it. The sword itself he put in a magic stone, which floated down thestream to Camelot, that is now called Winchester. And the same dayGalahad came to the river, having in his hand the scabbard, and he sawthe sword and pulled it out of the stone, as is told in anotherplace. _HOW THE ROUND TABLE BEGAN_ It was told in the story of the Questing Beast that King Arthurmarried the daughter of Leodegrance, King of Cameliard, but there wasnot space there to say how it came about. And as the tales of theRound Table are full of this lady, Queen Guenevere, it is well thatanybody who reads this book should learn how she became Queen. After King Arthur had fought and conquered many enemies, he said oneday to Merlin, whose counsel he took all the days of his life, 'MyBarons will let me have no rest, but bid me take a wife, and I haveanswered them that I shall take none, except you advise me. ' 'It is well, ' replied Merlin, 'that you should take a wife, but isthere any woman that you love better than another?' 'Yes, ' saidArthur, 'I love Guenevere, daughter of Leodegrance, King of Cameliard, in whose house is the Round Table that my father gave him. This maidenis the fairest that I have ever seen, or ever shall see. ' 'Sir, 'answered Merlin, 'what you say as to her beauty is true, but, if yourheart was not set on her, I could find you another as fair, and ofmore goodness, than she. But if a man's heart is once set it is idleto try to turn him. ' Then Merlin asked the King to give him a companyof knights and esquires, that he might go to the Court of KingLeodegrance and tell him that King Arthur desired to wed his daughter, which Arthur did gladly. Therefore Merlin rode forth and made all thehaste he could till he came to the Castle of Cameliard, and told KingLeodegrance who had sent him and why. 'That is the best news I have ever had, ' replied Leodegrance, 'forlittle did I think that so great and noble a King should seek to marrymy daughter. As for lands to endow her with, I would give whatever hechose; but he has lands enough of his own, so I will give him insteadsomething that will please him much more, the Round Table which UtherPendragon gave me, where a hundred and fifty Knights can sit at onetime. I myself can call to my side a hundred good Knights, but I lackfifty, for the wars have slain many, and some are absent. ' And withoutmore words King Leodegrance gave his consent that his daughter shouldwed King Arthur. And Merlin returned with his Knights and esquires, journeying partly by water and partly by land, till they drew near toLondon. When King Arthur heard of the coming of Merlin and of the Knights withthe Round Table he was filled with joy, and said to those that stoodabout him, 'This news that Merlin has brought me is welcome indeed, for I have long loved this fair lady, and the Round Table is dearer tome than great riches. ' Then he ordered that Sir Lancelot should rideto fetch the Queen, and that preparations for the marriage and hercoronation should be made, which was done. 'Now, Merlin, ' said theKing, 'go and look about my kingdom and bring fifty of the bravest andmost famous Knights that can be found throughout the land. ' But nomore than eight and twenty Knights could Merlin find. With theseArthur had to be content, and the Bishop of Canterbury was fetched, and he blessed the seats that were placed by the Round Table, and theKnights sat in them. 'Fair Sirs, ' said Merlin, when the Bishop hadended his blessing, 'arise all of you, and pay your homage to theKing. ' So the Knights arose to do his bidding, and in every seat wasthe name of the Knight who had sat on it, written in letters of gold, but two seats were empty. After that young Gawaine came to the King, and prayed him to make him a Knight on the day that he should wedGuenevere. 'That I will gladly, ' replied the King, 'for you are mysister's son. ' As the King was speaking, a poor man entered the Court, bringing withhim a youth about eighteen years old, riding on a lean mare, though itwas not the custom for gentlemen to ride on mares. 'Where is KingArthur?' asked the man. 'Yonder, ' answered the Knights. 'Have youbusiness with him?' 'Yes, ' said the man, and he went and bowed lowbefore the King: 'I have heard, O King Arthur, flower of Knights andKings, that at the time of your marriage you would give any man thegift he should ask for. ' 'That is truth, ' answered the King, 'as long as I do no wrong to othermen or to my kingdom. ' 'I thank you for your gracious words, ' said the poor man; 'the boon Iwould ask is that you would make my son a Knight. ' 'It is a great boonto ask, ' answered the King. 'What is your name?' 'Sir, my name is Aries the cowherd. ' 'Is it you or your son that has thought of this honour?' 'It is my son who desires it, and not I, ' replied the man. 'I havethirteen sons who tend cattle, and work in the fields if I bid them;but this boy will do nothing but shoot and cast darts, or go to watchbattles and look on Knights, and all day long he beseeches me to bringhim to you, that he may be knighted also. ' 'What is your name?' said Arthur, turning to the young man. 'Sir, my name is Tor. ' 'Where is your sword that I may knight you?' said the King. 'It is here, my lord. ' 'Take it out of its sheath, ' said the King, 'and require me to makeyou a Knight. ' Then Tor jumped off his mare and pulled out his sword, and knelt before the King, praying that he might be made a Knight anda Knight of the Round Table. 'As for a Knight, that I will make you, ' said Arthur, smiting him inthe neck with the sword, 'and if you are worthy of it you shall be aKnight of the Round Table. ' And the next day he made Gawaine Knightalso. [Illustration: MERLIN AND VIVIEN] _THE PASSING OF MERLIN. _ Sir Tor proved before long by his gallant deeds that he was worthy tosit in one of the two empty seats of the Round Table. Many of theother Knights went out also in search of adventures, and one of them, Sir Pellinore, brought a damsel of the lake to Arthur's Court, andwhen Merlin saw her he fell in love with her, so that he desired to bealways in her company. The damsel laughed in secret at Merlin, butmade use of him to tell her all she would know, and the wizard had nostrength to say her nay, though he knew what would come of it. For hetold King Arthur that before long he should be put into the earthalive, for all his cunning. He likewise told the King many things thatshould befall him, and warned him always to keep the scabbard as wellas the sword Excalibur, and foretold that both sword and scabbardshould be stolen from him by a woman whom he most trusted. 'You willmiss my counsel sorely, ' added Merlin, 'and would give all your landsto have me back again. ' 'But since you know what will happen, ' saidthe King, 'you may surely guard against it. ' 'No, ' answered Merlin, 'that will not be. ' So he departed from the King, and the maidenfollowed him whom some call Nimue and others Vivien, and wherever shewent Merlin went also. They journeyed together to many places, both at home and across theseas, and the damsel was wearied of him, and sought by every means tobe rid of him, but he would not be shaken off. At last these twowandered back to Cornwall, and one day Merlin showed Vivien a rockunder which he said great marvels were hidden. Then Vivien put forthall her powers, and told Merlin how she longed to see the wondersbeneath the stone, and, in spite of all his wisdom, Merlin listened toher and crept under the rock to bring forth the strange things thatlay there. And when he was under the stone she used the magic he hadtaught her, and the rock rolled over him, and buried him alive, as hehad told King Arthur. But the damsel departed with joy, and thought nomore of him: now that she knew all the magic he could teach her. _HOW MORGAN LE FAY TRIED TO KILL_ _KING ARTHUR_ King Arthur had a sister called Morgan le Fay, who was skilled inmagic of all sorts, and hated her brother because he had slain inbattle a Knight whom she loved. But to gain her own ends, and torevenge herself upon the King, she kept a smiling face, and let noneguess the passion in her heart. One day Morgan le Fay went to Queen Guenevere, and asked her leave togo into the country. The Queen wished her to wait till Arthurreturned, but Morgan le Fay said she had had bad news and could notwait. Then the Queen let her depart without delay. Early next morning at break of day Morgan le Fay mounted her horse androde all day and all night, and at noon next day reached the Abbey ofnuns where King Arthur had gone to rest, for he had fought a hardbattle, and for three nights had slept but little. 'Do not wake him, 'said Morgan le Fay, who had come there knowing she would find him, 'Iwill rouse him myself when I think he has had enough sleep, ' for shethought to steal his sword Excalibur from him. The nuns dared notdisobey her, so Morgan le Fay went straight into the room where KingArthur was lying fast asleep in his bed, and in his right hand wasgrasped his sword Excalibur. When she beheld that sight, her heartfell, for she dared not touch the sword, knowing well that if Arthurwaked and saw her she was a dead woman. So she took the scabbard, andwent away on horseback. When the King awoke and missed his scabbard, he was angry, and askedwho had been there; and the nuns told him that it was his sisterMorgan le Fay, who had gone away with a scabbard under her mantle. 'Alas!' said Arthur, 'you have watched me badly!' 'Sir, ' said they, 'we dared not disobey your sister. ' 'Saddle the best horse that can be found, ' commanded the King, 'andbid Sir Ontzlake take another and come with me. ' And they buckled ontheir armour and rode after Morgan le Fay. They had not gone far before they met a cowherd, and they stopped toask if he had seen any lady riding that way. 'Yes, ' said the cowherd, 'a lady passed by here, with forty horses behind her, and went intothe forest yonder. ' Then they galloped hard till Arthur caught sightof Morgan le Fay, who looked back, and, seeing that it was Arthur whogave chase, pushed on faster than before. And when she saw she couldnot escape him, she rode into a lake that lay in the plain on the edgeof the forest, and, crying out, 'Whatever may befall me, my brothershall not have the scabbard, ' she threw the scabbard far into thewater, and it sank, for it was heavy with gold and jewels. After thatshe fled into a valley full of great stones, and turned herself andher men and her horses into blocks of marble. Scarcely had she donethis when the King rode up, but seeing her nowhere thought some evilmust have befallen her in vengeance for her misdeeds. He then soughthigh and low for the scabbard, but could not find it, so he returnedunto the Abbey. When Arthur was gone, Morgan le Fay turned herself andher horses and her men back into their former shapes and said, 'Now, Sirs, we may go where we will. ' And she departed into the country ofGore, and made her towns and castles stronger than before, for shefeared King Arthur greatly. Meanwhile King Arthur had rested himselfat the Abbey, and afterwards he rode to Camelot, and was welcomed byhis Queen and all his Knights. And when he told his adventures andhow Morgan le Fay sought his death they longed to burn her for hertreason. [Illustration: MORGAN LE FAY CASTS AWAY THE SCABBARD] The next morning there arrived a damsel at the Court with a messagefrom Morgan le Fay, saying that she had sent the King her brother arich mantle for a gift, covered with precious stones, and begged himto receive it and to forgive her in whatever she might have offendedhim. The King answered little, but the mantle pleased him, and he wasabout to throw it over his shoulders when the lady of the lake steppedforward, and begged that she might speak to him in private. 'What isit?' asked the King. 'Say on here, and fear nothing. ' 'Sir, ' said thelady, 'do not put on this mantle, or suffer your Knights to put it on, till the bringer of it has worn it in your presence. ' 'Your words arewise, ' answered the King, 'I will do as you counsel me. Damsel, Idesire you to put on this mantle that you have brought me, so that Imay see it. ' 'Sir, ' said she, 'it does not become me to wear a King'sgarment. ' 'By my head, ' cried Arthur, 'you shall wear it before I putit on my back, or on the back of any of my Knights, ' and he signed tothem to put it on her, and she fell down dead, burnt to ashes by theenchanted mantle. Then the King was filled with anger, more than hewas before, that his sister should have dealt so wickedly by him. _WHAT BEAUMAINS ASKED OF THE KING_ As Pentecost drew near King Arthur commanded that all the Knights ofthe Round Table should keep the feast at a city called Kin-Kenadon, hard by the sands of Wales, where there was a great castle. Now it wasthe King's custom that he would eat no food on the day of Pentecost, which we call Whit Sunday, until he had heard or seen some greatmarvel. So on that morning Sir Gawaine was looking from the window alittle before noon when he espied three men on horseback, and withthem a dwarf on foot, who held their horses when they alighted. ThenSir Gawaine went to the King and said, 'Sir, go to your food, forstrange adventures are at hand. ' And Arthur called the other Kingsthat were in the castle, and all the Knights of the Round Table thatwere a hundred and fifty, and they sat down to dine. When they wereseated there entered the hall two men well and richly dressed, andupon their shoulders leaned the handsomest young man that ever wasseen of any of them, higher than the other two by a cubit. He was widein the chest and large handed, but his great height seemed to be aburden and a shame to him, therefore it was he leaned on the shouldersof his friends. As soon as Arthur beheld him he made a sign, andwithout more words all three went up to the high daïs, where the Kingsat. Then the tall young man stood up straight, and said: 'KingArthur, God bless you and all your fair fellowship, and in especialthe fellowship of the Table Round. I have come hither to pray you togive me three gifts, which you can grant me honourably, for they willdo no hurt to you or to anyone. ' 'Ask, ' answered Arthur, 'and youshall have your asking. ' 'Sir, this is my petition for this feast, for the other two I will askafter. Give me meat and drink for this one twelvemonth. ' 'Well, ' saidthe king, 'you shall have meat and drink enough, for that I give toevery man, whether friend or foe. But tell me your name!' 'I cannot tell you that, ' answered he. 'That is strange, ' replied theKing, 'but you are the goodliest young man I ever saw, ' and, turningto Sir Kay, the steward, charged him to give the young man to eat anddrink of the best, and to treat him in all ways as if he were a lord'sson. 'There is little need to do that, ' answered Sir Kay, 'for if hehad come of gentlemen and not of peasants he would have asked of you ahorse and armour. But as the birth of a man is so are his requests. And seeing he has no name I will give him one, and it shall beBeaumains, or Fair-hands, and he shall sit in the kitchen and eatbroth, and at the end of a year he shall be as fat as any pig thatfeeds on acorns. ' So the young man was left in charge of Sir Kay, thatscorned and mocked him. Sir Lancelot and Sir Gawaine were wroth when they heard what Sir Kaysaid, and bade him leave off his mocking, for they believed the youthwould turn out to be a man of great deeds; but Sir Kay paid no heed tothem, and took him down to the great hall, and set him among the boysand lads, where he ate sadly. After he had finished eating both SirLancelot and Sir Gawaine bade him come to their room, and would havehad him eat and drink there, but he refused, saying he was bound toobey Sir Kay, into whose charge the King had given him. So he was putinto the kitchen by Sir Kay, and slept nightly with the kitchen boys. This he bore for a whole year, and was always mild and gentle, andgave hard words to no one. Only, whenever the Knights played attourney he would steal out and watch them. And Sir Lancelot gave himgold to spend, and clothes to wear, and so did Gawaine. Also, if therewere any games held whereat he might be, none could throw a bar norcast a stone as far as he by two good yards. Thus the year passed by till the feast of Whitsuntide came again, andthis time the king held it at Carlion. But King Arthur would eat nomeat at Whitsuntide till some adventures were told him, and glad washe when a squire came and said to him, 'Sir you may go to your food, for here is a damsel with some strange tales. ' At this the damsel wasled into the hall, and bowed low before the King, and begged he wouldgive her help. 'For whom?' asked the King, 'and what is theadventure?' 'Sir, ' answered she, 'my sister is a noble lady of greatfame, who is besieged by a tyrant, and may not get out of her castle. And it is because your Knights are said to be the noblest in all theworld that I came to you for aid. ' 'What is your sister's name, andwhere does she dwell? And who is the man that besieges her, and wheredoes he come from?' 'Sir King, ' answered she, 'as for my sister'sname, I cannot tell it you now, but she is a lady of great beauty andgoodness, and of many lands. As for the tyrant who besieges her, he iscalled the Red Knight of the Red Lawns. ' 'I know nothing of him, ' saidthe King. 'But I know him, ' cried Sir Gawaine, 'and he is one of themost dangerous Knights in the world. Men say he has the strength ofseven, and once when we had crossed swords I hardly escaped from himwith my life. ' 'Fair damsel, ' then said the King, 'there are manyKnights here who would go gladly to the rescue of your lady, but noneof them shall do so with my consent unless you will tell us her name, and the place of her castle. ' 'Then I must speak further, ' said thedamsel. But before she had made answer to the King up came Beaumains, and spoke to Arthur, saying, 'Sir King, I thank you that for thiswhole year I have lived in your kitchen, and had meat and drink, andnow I will ask you for the two gifts that you promised me on thisday. ' 'Ask them, ' answered the King. 'Sir, this shall be my two gifts. First grant me the adventure of this damsel, for it is mine by right. ''You shall have it, ' said the King. 'Then, Sir, you shall bid SirLancelot du Lake to make me Knight, for I will receive Knighthood atthe hands of no other. ' 'All this shall be done, ' said the King. 'Fieon you, ' cried the damsel, 'will you give me none but a kitchen boy torescue my lady?' and she went away in a rage, and mounted her horse. No sooner had she left the hall than a page came to Beaumains and toldhim that a horse and fair armour had been brought for him, also therehad arrived a dwarf carrying all things that a Knight needed. And whenhe was armed there were few men that were handsomer than he, and theCourt wondered greatly whence these splendid trappings had come. ThenBeaumains came into the hall, and took farewell of the King, and SirGawaine and Sir Lancelot, and prayed Sir Lancelot that he would followafter him. So he departed, and rode after the damsel. Many looked uponhim and marvelled at the strength of his horse, and its goldentrappings, and envied Beaumains his shining coat of mail; but theynoted that he had neither shield nor spear. 'I will ride after him, 'laughed Sir Kay, 'and see if my kitchen boy will own me for hisbetter. ' 'Leave him and stay at home, ' said Sir Gawaine and SirLancelot, but Sir Kay would not listen and sprang upon his horse. Justas Beaumains came up with the damsel, Sir Kay reached Beaumains, andsaid, 'Beaumains, do you not know me?' Beaumains turned and looked at him, and answered, 'Yes, I know you foran ill-mannered Knight, therefore beware of me. ' At this Sir Kay puthis spear in rest and charged him, and Beaumains drew his sword andcharged Sir Kay, and dashed aside the spear, and thrust him throughthe side, till Sir Kay fell down as if he had been dead, and Beaumainstook his shield and spear for himself. Then he sprang on his ownhorse, bidding first his dwarf take Sir Kay's horse, and rode away. All this was seen by Sir Lancelot, who had followed him, and also bythe damsel. In a little while Beaumains stopped, and asked SirLancelot if he would tilt with him, and they came together with such ashock that both the horses and their riders fell to the earth and werebruised sorely. Sir Lancelot was the first to rise, and he helpedBeaumains from his horse, and Beaumains threw his shield from him, andoffered to fight on foot. And they rushed together like wild boars, turning and thrusting and parrying for the space of an hour, and SirLancelot marvelled at the young man's strength, and thought he wasmore like a giant than a Knight, and dreading lest he himself shouldbe put to shame, he said: 'Beaumains, do not fight so hard, we have noquarrel that forbids us to leave off. ' 'That is true, ' answeredBeaumains, laying down his arms, 'but it does me good, my lord, tofeel your might. ' 'Well, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'I promise you I had muchado to save myself from you unshamed, therefore have no fear of anyother Knight. ' 'Do you think I could really stand against a provedKnight?' asked Beaumains. 'Yes, ' said Lancelot, 'if you fight as youhave fought to-day I will be your warrant against anyone. ' 'Then Ipray you, ' cried Beaumains, 'give me the order of knighthood. ' 'Youmust first tell me your name, ' replied Lancelot, 'and who are yourkindred. ' 'You will not betray me if I do?' asked Beaumains. 'No, thatI will never do, till it is openly known, ' said Lancelot. 'Then, Sir, my name is Gareth, and Sir Gawaine is my brother. ' 'Ah, Sir, ' criedLancelot, 'I am gladder of you than ever I was, for I was sure youcame of good blood, and that you did not come to the Court for meatand drink only. ' And he bade him kneel, and gave him the order ofknighthood. [Illustration: Faugh sir! You smell of ye Kitchen Gareth & Linet] After that Sir Gareth wished to go his own ways, and departed. When hewas gone, Sir Lancelot went back to Sir Kay and ordered some men thatwere by to bear him home on a shield, and in time his wounds werehealed; but he was scorned of all men, and especially of Sir Gawaineand Sir Lancelot, who told him it was no good deed to treat any youngman so, and no one could tell what his birth might be, or what hadbrought him to the Court. Then Beaumains rode after the damsel, who stopped when she saw himcoming. 'What are you doing here?' said she. 'Your clothes smell ofthe grease and tallow of the kitchen! Do you think to change my hearttowards you because of yonder Knight whom you slew? No, truly! I knowwell who you are, you turner of spits! Go back to King Arthur'skitchen, which is your proper place. ' 'Damsel, ' replied Beaumains, 'you may say to me what you will, but I shall not quit you whateveryou may do, for I have vowed to King Arthur to relieve the lady in thecastle, and I shall set her free or die fighting for her. ' 'Fie onyou, Scullion, ' answered she. 'You will meet with one who will makeyou such a welcome that you would give all the broth you ever cookednever to have seen his face. ' 'I shall do my best to fight him, ' saidBeaumains, and held his peace. Soon they entered the wood, and there came a man flying towards them, galloping with all his might. 'Oh, help! help! lord, ' cried he, 'formy master lies in a thicket, bound by six thieves, and I greatly fearthey will slay him. ' 'Show me the way, ' said Sir Beaumains, and theyrode together till they reached the place where the Knight lay bound. Then Sir Beaumains charged the six thieves, and struck one dead, andanother, and another still, and the other three fled, not liking thebattle. Sir Beaumains pursued them till they turned at bay, and foughthard for their lives; but in the end Sir Beaumains slew them, andreturned to the Knight and unbound him. The Knight thanked Beaumainsheartily for his deliverance, and prayed him to come to his castle, where he would reward him. 'Sir, ' said Beaumains, 'I was this day madeKnight by noble Sir Lancelot, and that is reward enough for anything Imay do. Besides, I must follow this damsel. ' But when he came near hershe reviled him as before, and bade him ride far from her. 'Do youthink I set store by what you have done? You will soon see a sightthat will make you tell a very different tale. ' At this the Knightwhom Beaumains had rescued rode up to the damsel, and begged that shewould rest in his castle that night, as the sun was now setting. Thedamsel agreed, and the Knight ordered a great supper, and gave SirBeaumains a seat above the seat of the damsel, who rose up in anger. 'Fie! fie! Sir Knight, ' cried she, 'you are uncourteous to set a merekitchen page before me; he is not fit to be in the company ofhigh-born people. ' Her words struck shame into the Knight, and he tookBeaumains and set him at a side table, and seated himself before him. In the early morning Sir Beaumains and the damsel bade farewell to theKnight, and rode through the forest till they came to a great river, where stood two Knights on the further side, guarding the passage. 'Well, what do you say now?' asked the damsel. 'Will you fight them orturn back?' 'I would not turn if there were six more of them, 'answered Sir Beaumains, and he rushed into the water and so did one ofthe Knights. They came together in the middle of the stream, and theirspears broke in two with the force of the charge, and they drew theirswords, hitting hard at each other. At length Sir Beaumains dealt theother Knight such a blow that he fell from his horse, and was drownedin the river. Then Beaumains put his horse at the bank, where thesecond Knight was waiting for him, and they fought long together, tillSir Beaumains clave his helmet in two. So he left him dead, androde after the damsel. 'Alas!' she cried, 'that even a kitchen pageshould have power to destroy two such Knights! You think you have donemighty things, but you are wrong! As to the first Knight, his horsestumbled, and he was drowned before you ever touched him. And theother you took from behind, and struck him when he was defenceless. ''Damsel!' answered Beaumains, 'you may say what you will, I care notwhat it is, so I may deliver this lady. ' 'Fie, foul kitchen knave, youshall see Knights that will make you lower your crest. ' 'I pray you bemore civil in your language, ' answered Beaumains, 'for it matters notto me what Knights they be, I will do battle with them. ' 'I am tryingto turn you back for your own good, ' answered she, 'for if you followme you are certainly a dead man, as well I know all you have wonbefore has been by luck. ' 'Say what you will, damsel, ' said he, 'butwhere you go I will follow you, ' and they rode together till eventide, and all the way she chid him and gave him no rest. [Illustration: LINET AND THE BLACK KNIGHT] At length they reached an open space where there was a black lawn, andon the lawn a black hawthorn, whereon hung a black banner on one side, and a black shield and spear, big and long, on the other. Close bystood a black horse covered with silk, fastened to a black stone. AKnight, covered with black armour, sat on the horse, and when she sawhim the damsel bade him ride away, as his horse was not saddled. Butthe Knight drew near and said to her, 'Damsel, have you brought thisKnight from King Arthur's Court to be your champion?' 'No, truly, 'answered she, 'this is but a kitchen boy, fed by King Arthur forcharity. ' 'Then why is he clad in armour?' asked the Knight; 'it is ashame that he should even bear you company. ' 'I cannot be rid of him, 'said she, 'he rides with me against my will. I would that you wereable to deliver me from him! Either slay him or frighten him off, forby ill fortune he has this day slain the two Knights of the passage. ''I wonder much, ' said the Black Knight, 'that any man who is well bornshould consent to fight with him. ' 'They do not know him, ' replied thedamsel, 'and they think he must be a famous Knight because he rideswith me. ' 'That may be, ' said the Black Knight, 'but he is well made, and looks likely to be a strong man; still I promise you I will justthrow him to the ground, and take away his horse and armour, for itwould be a shame to me to do more. ' When Sir Beaumains heard him talkthus he looked up and said, 'Sir Knight, you are lightly disposing ofmy horse and armour, but I would have you know that I will pass thislawn, against your will or not, and you will only get my horse andarmour if you win them in fair fight. Therefore let me see what youcan do. ' 'Say you so?' answered the Knight, 'now give up the lady atonce, for it ill becomes a kitchen page to ride with a lady of highdegree. ' 'It is a lie, ' said Beaumains, 'I am a gentleman born, and mybirth is better than yours, as I will prove upon your body. ' With that they drew back their horses so as to charge each otherhotly, and for the space of an hour and a half they fought fiercelyand well, but in the end a blow from Beaumains threw the Knight fromhis horse, and he swooned and died. Then Beaumains jumped down, andseeing that the Knight's horse and armour were better than his own, hetook them for himself, and rode after the damsel. While they were thusriding together, and the damsel was chiding him as ever she did, theysaw a Knight coming towards them dressed all in green. 'Is that mybrother the Black Knight who is with you?' asked he of the damsel. 'No, indeed, ' she replied, 'this unhappy kitchen knave has slain yourbrother, to my great sorrow. ' 'Alas!' sighed the Green Knight, 'thatmy brother should die so meanly at the hand of a kitchen knave. Traitor!' he added, turning to Beaumains, 'thou shalt die for slayingmy brother, for he was a noble Knight, and his name was Sir Percard. ''I defy you, ' said Beaumains, 'for I slew him as a good Knightshould. ' Then the Green Knight seized a horn which hung from a horn tree, andblew three notes upon it, and two damsels came and armed him, andfastened on him a green shield and a green spear. So the fight beganand raged long, first on horseback and then on foot, till both weresore wounded. At last the damsel came and stood beside them, and said, 'My lord the Green Knight, why for very shame do you stand so longfighting a kitchen knave? You ought never to have been made a Knightat all!' These scornful words stung the heart of the Green Knight, andhe dealt a mighty stroke which cleft asunder the shield of Beaumains. And when Beaumains saw this, he struck a blow upon the Knight's helmetwhich brought him to his knees, and Beaumains leapt on him, anddragged him to the ground. Then the Green Knight cried for mercy, andoffered to yield himself prisoner unto Beaumains. 'It is all in vain, 'answered Beaumains, 'unless the damsel prays me for your life, ' andtherewith he unlaced his helmet as though he would slay him. 'Fie uponthee, false kitchen page!' said the damsel, 'I will never pray to savehis life, for I am sure he is in no danger. ' 'Suffer me not to die, 'entreated the Knight, 'when a word may save me!' 'Fair Knight, ' hewent on, turning to Beaumains, 'save my life, and I will forgive youthe death of my brother, and will do you service for ever, and willbring thirty of my Knights to serve you likewise. ' 'It is a shame, 'cried the damsel, 'that such a kitchen knave should have you andthirty Knights besides. ' 'Sir Knight, ' said Beaumains, 'I care nothingfor all this, but if I am to spare your life the damsel must ask forit, ' and he stepped forward as if to slay him. 'Let be, foul knave, 'then said the damsel, 'do not slay him. If you do, you will repentit. ' 'Damsel, ' answered Beaumains, 'it is a pleasure to me to obeyyou, and at your wish I will save his life. Sir Knight with the greenarms, I release you at the request of this damsel, and I will fulfilall she charges me. ' Then the Green Knight kneeled down, and did him homage with his sword. 'I am sorry, ' said the damsel, 'for the wounds you have received, andfor your brother's death, for I had great need of you both, and havemuch dread of passing the forest. ' 'Fear nothing, ' answered the GreenKnight, 'for this evening you shall lodge in my house, and to-morrow Iwill show you the way through the forest. ' And they went with theGreen Knight. But the damsel did not mend her ways with Beaumains, andever more reviled him, till the Green Knight rebuked her, sayingBeaumains was the noblest Knight that held a spear, and that in theend she would find he had sprung from some great King. And the GreenKnight summoned the thirty Knights who did him service, and bade themhenceforth do service to Beaumains, and keep him from treachery, andwhen he had need of them they would be ready to obey his orders. Sothey bade each other farewell, and Beaumains and the damsel rode forthanew. In like manner did Sir Beaumains overcome the Red Knight, whowas the third brother, and the Red Knight cried for mercy, and offeredto bring sixty Knights to do him service, and Beaumains spared hislife at the request of the damsel, and likewise it so happened to SirPersant of Inde. And this time the damsel prayed Beaumains to give up the fight, saying, 'Sir, I wonder who you are and of what kindred you have come. Boldly you speak, and boldly you have done; therefore I pray you todepart and save yourself while you may, for both you and your horsehave suffered great fatigues, and I fear we delay too long, for thebesieged castle is but seven miles from this place, and all the perilsare past save this one only. I dread sorely lest you should get somehurt; yet this Sir Persant of Inde is nothing in might to the Knightwho has laid siege to my lady. ' But Sir Beaumains would not listen toher words, and vowed that by two hours after noon he would haveoverthrown him, and that it would still be daylight when they reachedthe castle. 'What sort of a man can you be?' answered the damsel, looking at him in wonder, 'for never did a woman treat a Knight as illand shamefully as I have done you, while you have always been gentleand courteous to me, and no one bears himself like that save he who isof noble blood. ' 'Damsel, ' replied Beaumains, 'your hard words onlydrove me to strike the harder, and though I ate in King Arthur'skitchen, perhaps I might have had as much food as I wanted elsewhere. But all I have done was to make proof of my friends, and whether I ama gentleman or not, fair damsel, I have done you gentleman's service, and may perchance, do you greater service before we part from eachother. ' 'Alas, fair Beaumains, forgive me all that I have said anddone against you. ' 'With all my heart, ' he answered, 'and since youare pleased now to speak good words to me, know that I hear themgladly, and there is no Knight living but I feel strong enough to meethim. ' So Beaumains conquered Sir Persant of Inde, who brought a hundredKnights to be sworn into his service, and the next morning the damselled him to the castle, where the Red Knight of the Red Lawn held fastthe lady. 'Heaven defend you, ' cried Sir Persant, when they told himwhere they were going; 'that is the most perilous Knight now living, for he has the strength of seven men. He has done great wrong to thatlady, who is one of the fairest in all the world, and it seems to meas if this damsel must be her sister. Is not her name Linet?' 'Yes, Sir, ' answered she, 'and my lady my sister's name is dame Lyonesse. ''The Red Knight has drawn out the siege for two years, ' said SirPersant, 'though he might have forced an entrance many a time, but hehoped that Sir Lancelot du Lake or Sir Tristram or Sir Gawaine shouldcome to do battle with him. ' 'My Lord Sir Persant of Inde, ' said thedamsel, 'I bid you knight this gentleman before he fight with the RedKnight. ' 'That I will gladly, ' replied Sir Persant, 'if it please himto take the order of knighthood from so simple a man as I am. ' 'Sir, 'answered Beaumains, 'I thank you for your goodwill, but at thebeginning of this quest I was made a Knight by Sir Lancelot. My nameis Sir Gareth of Orkney and Sir Gawaine is my brother, though neitherhe nor King Arthur, whose sister is my mother, knows of it. I pray youto keep it close also. ' Now word was brought unto the besieged lady by the dwarf that hersister was coming to her with a Knight sent by King Arthur. And whenthe lady heard all that Beaumains had done, and how he had overthrownall who stood in his way, she bade her dwarf take baked venison, andfat capons, and two silver flagons of wine and a gold cup, and putthem into the hands of a hermit that dwelt in a hermitage close by. The dwarf did so, and the lady then sent him to greet her sister andSir Beaumains, and to beg them to eat and drink in the hermit's cell, and rest themselves, which they did. When they drew near the besiegedcastle Sir Beaumains saw full forty Knights, with spurs on their heelsand swords in their hands, hanging from the tall trees that stood uponthe lawn. 'Fair Sir, ' said the damsel, 'these Knights came hither torescue my sister, dame Lyonesse; and if you cannot overthrow theKnight of the Red Lawn, you will hang there too. ' 'Truly, ' answered Beaumains, 'it is a marvel that none of KingArthur's Knights has dealt with the Knight of the Red Lawn ere this';and they rode up to the castle, which had round it high walls and deepditches, till they came to a great sycamore tree, where hung ahorn. And whoso desired to do battle with the Red Knight must blowthat horn loudly. [Illustration: The Lady of Lyonesse sees Sir Gareth] 'Sir, I pray you, ' said Linet, as Beaumains bent forward to seize it, 'do not blow it till it is full noontide, for during three hoursbefore that the Red Knight's strength so increases that it is as thestrength of seven men; but when noon is come, he has the might of oneman only. ' 'Ah! for shame, damsel, to say such words. I will fight him as he is, or not at all, ' and Beaumains blew such a blast that it rang throughthe castle. And the Red Knight buckled on his armour, and came towhere Beaumains stood. So the battle began, and a fierce one it was, and much ado had Beaumains to last out till noon, when the RedKnight's strength began to wane; they rested, and came on again, andin the end the Red Knight yielded to Sir Beaumains, and the lords andbarons in the castle did homage to the victor, and begged that the RedKnight's life might be spared on condition they all took service withBeaumains. This was granted to them, and Linet bound up his wounds andput ointment on them, and so she did likewise to Sir Beaumains. Butthe Red Knight was sent to the Court of King Arthur, and told him allthat Sir Beaumains had done. And King Arthur and his Knightsmarvelled. Now Sir Beaumains had looked up at the windows of Castle Perilousbefore the fight, and had seen the face of the Lady Lyonesse, and hadthought it the fairest in all the world. After he had subdued the RedKnight, he hasted into the castle, and the Lady Lyonesse welcomed him, and he told her he had bought her love with the best blood in hisbody. And she did not say him nay, but put him off for a time. Thenthe King sent letters to her to bid her, and likewise Sir Gareth, cometo his Court, and by the counsel of Sir Gareth she prayed the King tolet her call a tournament, and to proclaim that the Knight who borehimself best should, if he was unwedded, take her and all her lands. But if he had a wife already he should be given a white ger-falcon, and for his wife a crown of gold, set about with precious stones. So the Lady Lyonesse did as Sir Gareth had counselled her, andanswered King Arthur that where Sir Gareth was she could not tell, butthat if the King would call a tourney he might be sure that Sir Garethwould come to it. 'It is well thought of, ' said Arthur, and the LadyLyonesse departed unto Castle Perilous, and summoned all her Knightsaround her, and told them what she had done, and how they were to makeready to fight in the tournament. She began at once to set her castlein order, and to think what she should do with the great array ofKnights that would ride hither from the furthest parts--from Scotlandand Wales and Cornwall--and to lodge fitly the Kings, Dukes, Earls, and Barons that should come with Arthur. Queen Guenevere also sheawaited, and the Queen of Orkney, Sir Gareth's mother. But Sir Garethentreated the Lady Lyonesse and those Knights that were in the castlewith him not to let his name be known, and this they agreed to. 'Sir Gareth, ' said dame Lyonesse, 'I will lend you a ring, which Ibeseech you for the love you bear me to give me back when thetournament is done, for without it I have but little beauty. This ringis like no other ring, it will turn green red, and blue white, and thebearer shall lose no blood, however sore he may be wounded. ' 'Truly, my own lady, ' answered Sir Gareth, 'this ring will serve mewell, and by its help I shall not fear that any man shall know me. 'And Sir Gringamore, brother to the Lady Lyonesse, gave him a bayhorse, and strong armour, and a sharp sword that had once belonged tohis father. On the morning of the fifteenth of August, when the Feastof the Assumption was kept, the King commanded his heralds to blowloudly their trumpets, so that every Knight might know that he mustenter the lists. It was a noble sight to see them flocking clad inshining armour, each man with his device upon his shield. And theheralds marked who bare them best, and who were overthrown. Allmarvelled as to who the Knight could be whose armour sometimes seemedgreen, and sometimes white, but no man knew it was Sir Gareth. Andwhosoever Sir Gareth tilted with was straightway overthrown. 'Of atruth, ' cried King Arthur, 'that Knight with the many colours is agood Knight, ' and he called Sir Lancelot and bade him to challengethat Knight to combat. But Sir Lancelot said that though the Knighthad come off victor in every fight, yet his limbs must be weary, forhe had fought as a man fights under the eyes of his lady, 'and forthis day, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'he shall have the honour. Though it layin my power to put it from him, I would not. ' Then they paused for a while to rest, and afterwards the tournamentbegan again more fiercely than before, and Sir Lancelot was set uponby two Knights at once. When Sir Gareth saw that, he rode in betweenthem, but no stroke would he deal Sir Lancelot, which Sir Lancelotnoted, and guessed that it was the good Knight Sir Gareth. Sir Garethwent hither and thither, smiting anyone that came in his way, and byfortune he met with his brother Sir Gawaine, and knocked off hishelmet. Now it happened that while he was fighting a Knight dealt SirGareth a fierce blow on his helm, and he rode off the field to mendit. Then his dwarf, who had been watching eagerly, cried out to SirGareth to leave the ring with him, lest he should lose it while he wasdrinking, which Sir Gareth did; and when he had drunk and mended hishelm he forgot the ring, at which the dwarf was glad, for he knew hisname could no longer be hid. And when Sir Gareth returned to thefield, his armour shone yellow like gold, and King Arthur marvelledwhat Knight he was, for he saw by his hair that he was the same Knightwho had worn the many colours. 'Go, ' he said to his heralds, 'ridenear him and see what manner of Knight he is, for none can tell me hisname. ' So a herald drew close to him, and saw that on his helm waswritten in golden letters 'This helm belongs to Sir Gareth of Orkney';and the herald cried out and made proclamation, and the Kings andKnights pressed to behold him. And when Sir Gareth saw he wasdiscovered, he struck more fiercely than before, and smote down SirSagramore, and his brother Sir Gawaine. 'O brother, ' said Sir Gawaine, 'I did not think you would have smitten me!' When Sir Gareth heard himsay that he rode out of the press, and cried to his dwarf, 'Boy, youhave played me foul, for you have kept my ring. Give it to me now, that I may hide myself, ' and he galloped swiftly into the forest, andno one knew where he had gone. 'What shall I do next?' asked he of thedwarf. 'Sir, ' answered the dwarf, 'send the Lady Lyonesse back herring. ' 'Your counsel is good, ' said Gareth; 'take it to her, andcommend me to her grace, and say I will come when I may, and bid herto be faithful to me, as I am to her. ' After that Sir Gareth rodedeeper into the forest. Though Sir Gareth had left the tournament he found that there were asmany fights awaiting him as if he had remained there. He overcame allhis foes, and sent them and their followers to do homage to KingArthur, but he himself stayed behind. He was standing alone after theyhad gone, when he beheld an armed Knight coming towards him. SirGareth sprang on his horse, and without a word the two crashedtogether like thunder, and strove hard for two hours, till the groundwas wet with blood. At that time the damsel Linet came riding by, andsaw what was doing, and knew who were the fighters. And she cried 'SirGawaine, Sir Gawaine, leave fighting with your brother Sir Gareth. 'Then he threw down his shield and sword, and ran to Sir Gareth, andfirst took him in his arms and next kneeled down and asked mercy ofhim. 'Why do you, who were but now so strong and mighty, so suddenlyyield to me?' asked Sir Gareth, who had not perceived the damsel. 'OGareth, I am your brother, and have had much sorrow for your sake. 'At this Sir Gareth unlaced his helm and knelt before Sir Gawaine, andthey rose and embraced each other. 'Ah, my fair brother, ' said SirGawaine, 'I ought rightly to do you homage, even if you were not mybrother, for in this twelvemonth you have sent King Arthur moreKnights than any six of the best men of the Round Table. ' While he wasspeaking there came the Lady Linet, and healed the wounds of SirGareth and of Sir Gawaine. 'What are you going to do now?' asked she. 'It is time that King Arthur had tidings of you both, and your horsesare not fit to bear you. ' 'Ride, I pray you, ' said Sir Gawaine, 'to my uncle King Arthur, who isbut two miles away, and tell him what adventure has befallen me. ' Soshe mounted her mule, and when she had told her tale to King Arthur, he bade them saddle him a palfrey and invited all the Knights andladies of his Court to ride with him. When they reached the place theysaw Sir Gareth and Sir Gawaine sitting on the hill-side. The Kingjumped off his horse, and would have greeted them, but he swooned awayfor gladness, and they ran and comforted him, and also their mother. The two Knights stayed in King Arthur's Court for eight days, andrested themselves and grew strong. Then said the King to Linet, 'Iwonder that your sister, dame Lyonesse, does not come here to visitme, or more truly to visit my nephew, Sir Gareth, who has worked sohard to win her love. ' 'My lord, ' answered Linet, 'you must, by your grace, hold her excused, for she does not know that Sir Gareth is here. ' 'Go and fetch her, then, ' said Arthur. 'That I will do quickly, ' replied Linet, and by the next morning shehad brought dame Lyonesse, and her brother Sir Gringamore, and fortyKnights, but among the ladies dame Lyonesse was the fairest, save onlyQueen Guenevere. They were all welcomed of King Arthur, who turned tohis nephew Sir Gareth and asked him whether he would have that lady tohis wife. 'My lord, ' replied Sir Gareth, 'you know well that I love her aboveall the ladies in the world. ' 'And what say you, fair lady?' asked the King. 'Most noble King, ' said dame Lyonesse, 'I would sooner have Sir Garethas my husband than any King or Prince that may be christened, and if Imay not have him I promise you I will have none. For he is my firstlove, and shall be my last. And if you will suffer him to have hiswill and choice, I dare say he will have me. ' 'That is truth, ' said Sir Gareth. 'What, nephew, ' cried the King, 'sits the wind in that door? Then youshall have all the help that is in my power, ' and so said Gareth'smother. And it was fixed that the marriage should be at Michaelmas, atKin-Kenadon by the sea-shore, and thus it was proclaimed in all placesof the realm. Then Sir Gareth sent his summons to all the Knights andladies that he had won in battle that they should be present, and hegave a rich ring to the Lady Lyonesse, and she gave him one likewise. And before she departed she had from King Arthur a shining golden bee, as a token. After that Sir Gareth set her on her way towards hercastle, and returned unto the King. But he would ever be in SirLancelot's company, for there was no Knight that Sir Gareth loved sowell as Sir Lancelot. The days drew fast to Michaelmas, and there camethe Lady Lyonesse with her sister Linet and her brother Sir Gringamoreto Kin-Kenadon by the sea, and there were they lodged by order of KingArthur. And upon Michaelmas Day the Bishop of Canterbury wedded SirGareth and the Lady Lyonesse with great ceremonies, and King Arthurcommanded that Sir Gawaine should be joined to the damsel Linet, andSir Agrawaine to the niece of dame Lyonesse, whose name was Laurel. Then the Knights whom Sir Gareth had won in battle came with theirfollowings and did homage to him, and the Green Knight besought himthat he might act as chamberlain at the feast, and the Red Knight thathe might be his steward. As soon as the feast was ended, they had allmanner of minstrelsy and games and a great tournament that lastedthree days, but at the prayer of dame Lyonesse the King would notsuffer that any man who was wedded should fight at that feast. _THE QUEST OF THE HOLY GRAAL_ This is a mysterious part of the adventures of King Arthur's Knights. We must remember that parts of these stories are very old; they wereinvented by the heathen Welsh, or by the ancient Britons, from whomthe Welsh are descended, and by the old pagan Irish, who spoke Gaelic, a language not very unlike Welsh. Then these ancient stories weretranslated by French and other foreign writers, and Christian beliefsand chivalrous customs were added in the French romances, and, finally, the French was translated into English about the time ofEdward IV. By Sir Thomas Malory, who altered as he pleased. The Storyof the Holy Graal, in this book, is mostly taken from Malory, butpartly from 'The High History of the Holy Graal, ' translated by Dr. Sebastian Evans from an old French book. What _was_ the Holy Graal? In the stories it is the holy vessel usedby our Lord, and brought to Britain by Joseph of Arimathea. But in theolder heathen Irish stories there is a mysterious vessel of a magicalsort, full of miraculous food, and probably the French writers of theromances confused this with the sacred vessel brought from the HolyLand. On account of the sins of men this relic was made invisible, butnow and then it appeared, borne by angels or floating in a heavenlylight. The Knights, against King Arthur's wish, made a vow to find it, and gave up their duties of redressing wrongs and keeping order, topursue the beautiful vision. But most of them, for their sins, wereunsuccessful, like Sir Lancelot, and the Round Table was scatteredand the kingdom was weakened by the neglect of ordinary duties in thesearch for what could never be gained by mortal men. This appears tobe the moral of the story, if it has any moral. But the stories areconfused almost like a dream, though it is a beautiful dream. I HOW THE KING WENT ON PILGRIMAGE, AND HIS SQUIRE WAS SLAIN IN A DREAM Now the King was minded to go on a pilgrimage, and he agreed with theQueen that he would set forth to seek the holy chapel of St. Augustine, which is in the White Forest, and may only be found byadventure. Much he wished to undertake the quest alone, but this theQueen would not suffer, and to do her pleasure he consented that ayouth, tall and strong of limb, should ride with him as his squire. Chaus was the youth's name, and he was son to Gwain li Aoutres. 'Liewithin to-night, ' commanded the King, 'and take heed that my horse besaddled at break of day, and my arms ready. ' 'At your pleasure, Sir, 'answered the youth, whose heart rejoiced because he was going alonewith the King. As night came on, all the Knights quitted the hall, but Chaus thesquire stayed where he was, and would not take off his clothes or hisshoes, lest sleep should fall on him and he might not be ready whenthe King called him. So he sat himself down by the great fire, but inspite of his will sleep fell heavily on him, and he dreamed a strangedream. In his dream it seemed that the King had ridden away to the quest, andhad left his squire behind him, which filled the young man with fear. And in his dream he set the saddle and bridle on his horse, andfastened his spurs, and girt on his sword, and galloped out of thecastle after the King. He rode on a long space, till he entered athick forest, and there before him lay traces of the King's horse, andhe followed till the marks of the hoofs ceased suddenly at some openground and he thought that the King had alighted there. On the rightstood a chapel, and about it was a graveyard, and in the graveyardmany coffins, and in his dream it seemed as if the King had enteredthe chapel, so the young man entered also. But no man did he beholdsave a Knight that lay dead upon a bier in the midst of the chapel, covered with a pall of rich silk, and four tapers in goldencandlesticks were burning round him. The squire marvelled to see thebody lying there so lonely, with no one near it, and likewise that theKing was nowhere to be seen. Then he took out one of the tall tapers, and hid the candlestick under his cloak, and rode away until he shouldfind the King. On his journey through the forest he was stopped by a man black andill-favoured, holding a large knife in his hand. 'Ho! you that stand there, have you seen King Arthur?' asked thesquire. 'No, but I have met you, and I am glad thereof, for you have underyour cloak one of the candlesticks of gold that was placed in honourof the Knight who lies dead in the chapel. Give it to me, and I willcarry it back; and if you do not this of your own will, I will makeyou. ' 'By my faith!' cried the squire, 'I will never yield it to you!Rather, will I carry it off and make a present of it to King Arthur. ' 'You will pay for it dearly, ' answered the man, 'if you yield it notup forthwith. ' To this the squire did not make answer, but dashed forward, thinkingto pass him by; but the man thrust at him with his knife, and itentered his body up to the hilt. And when the squire dreamed this, hecried, 'Help! help! for I am a dead man!' As soon as the King and the Queen heard that cry they awoke from theirsleep, and the Chamberlain said, 'Sir, you must be moving, for it isday'; and the King rose and dressed himself, and put on his shoes. Then the cry came again: 'Fetch me a priest, for I die!' and the Kingran at great speed into the hall, while the Queen and the Chamberlainfollowed him with torches and candles. 'What aileth you?' asked theKing of his squire, and the squire told him of all that he haddreamed. 'Ha, ' said the King, 'is it, then, a dream?' 'Yes, Sir, 'answered the squire, 'but it is a right foul dream for me, for rightfoully it hath come true, ' and he lifted his left arm, and said, 'Sir, look you here! Lo, here is the knife that was struck in my side up tothe haft. ' After that, he drew forth the candlestick, and showed it tothe King. 'Sir, for this candlestick that I present to you was Iwounded to the death!' The King took the candlestick in his hands andlooked at it, and none so rich had he seen before, and he bade theQueen look also. 'Sir, ' said the squire again, 'draw not forth theknife out of my body till I be shriven of the priest. ' So the Kingcommanded that a priest should be sent for, and when the squire hadconfessed his sins, the King drew the knife out of the body and thesoul departed forthwith. Then the King grieved that the young man hadcome to his death in such strange wise, and ordered him a fair burial, and desired that the golden candlestick should be sent to the Churchof Saint Paul in London, which at that time was newly built. After this King Arthur would have none to go with him on his quest, and many strange adventures he achieved before he reached the chapelof St. Augustine, which was in the midst of the White Forest. There healighted from his horse, and sought to enter, but though there wasneither door nor bar he might not pass the threshold. But from withouthe heard wondrous voices singing, and saw a light shining brighterthan any that he had seen before, and visions such as he scarcelydared to look upon. And he resolved greatly to amend his sins, and tobring peace and order into his kingdom. So he set forth, strengthenedand comforted, and after divers more adventures returned to hisCourt. II THE COMING OF THE HOLY GRAAL It was on the eve of Pentecost that all the Knights of the Table Roundmet together at Camelot, and a great feast was made ready for them. And as they sat at supper they heard a loud noise, as of the crashingof thunder, and it seemed as if the roof would fall on them. Then, inthe midst of the thunder, there entered a sunbeam, brighter by seventimes than the brightest day, and its brightness was not of thisworld. The Knights held their peace, but every man looked at hisneighbour, and his countenance shone fairer than ever it had donebefore. As they sat dumb, for their tongues felt as if they couldspeak nothing, there floated in the hall the Holy Graal, and over it aveil of white samite, so that none might see it nor who bare it. Butsweet odours filled the place, and every Knight had set before him thefood he loved best; and after that the Holy Vessel departed suddenly, they wist not where. When it had gone their tongues were loosened, andthe King gave thanks for the wonders that they had been permitted tosee. After that he had finished, Sir Gawaine stood up and vowed todepart the next morning in quest of the Holy Graal, and not to returnuntil he had seen it. 'But if after a year and a day I may not speedin my quest, ' said he, 'I shall come again, for I shall know that thesight of it is not for me. ' And many of the Knights there sittingswore a like vow. But King Arthur, when he heard this, was sore displeased. 'Alas!'cried he unto Sir Gawaine, 'you have undone me by your vow. Forthrough you is broken up the fairest fellowship, and the truest ofknighthood, that ever the world saw, and when they have once departedthey shall meet no more at the Table Round, for many shall die in thequest. It grieves me sore, for I have loved them as well as my ownlife. ' So he spoke, and paused, and tears came into his eyes. 'Ah, Gawaine, Gawaine! you have set me in great sorrow. ' 'Comfort yourself, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'for we shall win for ourselvesgreat honour, and much more than if we had died in any other wise, since die we must. ' But the King would not be comforted, and the Queenand all the Court were troubled also for the love which they had tothese Knights. Then the Queen came to Sir Galahad, who was sittingamong those Knights though younger he was than any of them, and askedhim whence he came, and of what country, and if he was son to SirLancelot. And King Arthur did him great honour, and he rested him inhis own bed. And next morning the King and Queen went into theMinster, and the Knights followed them, dressed all in armour, saveonly their shields and their helmets. When the service was finishedthe King would know how many of the fellowship had sworn to undertakethe quest of the Graal, and they were counted, and found to number ahundred and fifty. They bade farewell, and mounted their horses, androde through the streets of Camelot, and there was weeping of bothrich and poor, and the King could not speak for weeping. And atsunrise they all parted company with each other, and every Knight tookthe way he best liked. III THE ADVENTURE OF SIR GALAHAD Now Sir Galahad had as yet no shield, and he rode four days withoutmeeting any adventure, till at last he came to a White Abbey, where hedismounted and asked if he might sleep there that night. The brethrenreceived him with great reverence, and led him to a chamber, where hetook off his armour, and then saw that he was in the presence of twoKnights. 'Sirs, ' said Sir Galahad, 'what adventure brought youhither?' 'Sir, ' replied they, 'we heard that within this Abbey is ashield that no man may hang round his neck without being dead withinthree days, or some mischief befalling him. And if we fail in theadventure, you shall take it upon you. ' 'Sirs, ' replied Sir Galahad, 'I agree well thereto, for as yet I have no shield. ' So on the morn they arose and heard Mass, and then a monk led thembehind an altar where hung a shield white as snow, with a red cross inthe middle of it. 'Sirs, ' said the monk, 'this shield cannot be hunground no Knight's neck, unless he be the worthiest Knight in theworld, and therefore I counsel you to be well advised. ' 'Well, ' answered one of the Knights, whose name was King Bagdemagus, 'I know truly that I am not the best Knight in the world, but yetshall I try to bear it, ' and he bare it out of the Abbey. Then he saidto Sir Galahad, 'I pray you abide here still, till you know how Ishall speed, ' and he rode away, taking with him a squire to sendtidings back to Sir Galahad. After King Bagdemagus had ridden two miles he entered a fair valley, and there met him a goodly Knight seated on a white horse and clad inwhite armour. And they came together with their spears, and SirBagdemagus was borne from his horse, for the shield covered him not atall. Therewith the strange Knight alighted and took the white shieldfrom him, and gave it to the squire, saying, 'Bear this shield to thegood Knight Sir Galahad that thou hast left in the Abbey, and greethim well from me. ' 'Sir, ' said the squire, 'what is your name?' 'Take thou no heed of my name, ' answered the Knight, 'for it is notfor thee to know, nor for any earthly man. ' 'Now, fair Sir, ' said the squire, 'tell me for what cause this shieldmay not be borne lest ill befalls him who bears it. ' 'Since you have asked me, ' answered the Knight, 'know that no manshall bear this shield, save Sir Galahad only. ' Then the squire turned to Bagdemagus, and asked him whether he werewounded or not. 'Yes, truly, ' said he, 'and I shall hardly escape fromdeath'; and scarcely could he climb on to his horse's back when thesquire brought it near him. But the squire led him to a monastery thatlay in the valley, and there he was treated of his wounds, and afterlong lying came back to life. After the squire had given the Knightinto the care of the monks, he rode back to the Abbey, bearing withhim the shield. 'Sir Galahad, ' said he, alighting before him, 'theKnight that wounded Bagdemagus sends you greeting, and bids you bearthis shield, which shall bring you many adventures. ' 'Now blessed be God and fortune, ' answered Sir Galahad, and called forhis arms, and mounted his horse, hanging the shield about his neck. Then, followed by the squire, he set out. They rode straight to thehermitage, where they saw the White Knight who had sent the shield toSir Galahad. The two Knights saluted each other courteously, andthen the White Knight told Sir Galahad the story of the shield, andhow it had been given into his charge. Afterwards they parted, and SirGalahad and his squire returned unto the Abbey whence they came. [Illustration: SIR GALAHAD OPENS THE TOMB] The monks made great joy at seeing Sir Galahad again, for they fearedhe was gone for ever; and as soon as he was alighted from his horsethey brought him unto a tomb in the churchyard where there was nightand day such a noise that any man who heard it should be driven nighmad, or else lose his strength. 'Sir, ' they said, 'we deem it afiend. ' Sir Galahad drew near, all armed save his helmet, and stood bythe tomb. 'Lift up the stone, ' said a monk, and Galahad lifted it, anda voice cried, 'Come thou not nigh me, Sir Galahad, for thou shaltmake me go again where I have been so long. ' But Galahad took no heedof him, and lifted the stone yet higher, and there rushed from thetomb a foul smoke, and in the midst of it leaped out the foulestfigure that ever was seen in the likeness of a man. 'Galahad, ' saidthe figure, 'I see about thee so many angels that my power dare nottouch thee. ' Then Galahad, stooping down, looked into the tomb, and hesaw a body all armed lying there, with a sword by his side. 'Fairbrother, ' said Galahad, 'let us remove this body, for he is not worthyto be in this churchyard, being a false Christian man. ' This being done they all departed and returned unto the monastery, where they lay that night, and the next morning Sir Galahad knightedMelias his squire, as he had promised him aforetime. So Sir Galahadand Sir Melias departed thence, in quest of the Holy Graal, but theysoon went their different ways and fell upon different adventures. Inhis first encounter Sir Melias was sore wounded, and Sir Galahad cameto his help, and left him to an old monk who said that he would healhim of his wounds in the space of seven weeks, and that he was thuswounded because he had not come clean to the quest of the Graal, asSir Galahad had done. Sir Galahad left him there, and rode on till hecame to the Castle of Maidens, which he alone might enter who was freefrom sin. There he chased away the Knights who had seized the castleseven years agone, and restored all to the Duke's daughter, who ownedit of right. Besides this he set free the maidens who were kept inprison, and summoned all those Knights in the country round who hadheld their lands of the Duke, bidding them do homage to his daughter. And in the morning one came to him and told him that as the sevenKnights fled from the Castle of Maidens they fell upon the path of SirGawaine, Sir Gareth, and Sir Lewaine, who were seeking Sir Galahad, and they gave battle; and the seven Knights were slain by the threeKnights. 'It is well, ' said Galahad, and he took his armour and hishorse and rode away. So when Sir Galahad left the Castle of Maidens he rode till he came toa waste forest, and there he met with Sir Lancelot and Sir Percivale;but they knew him not, for he was now disguised. And they foughttogether, and the two Knights were smitten down out of the saddle. 'God be with thee, thou best Knight in the world, ' cried a nun whodwelt in a hermitage close by; and she said it in a loud voice, sothat Lancelot and Percivale might hear. But Sir Galahad feared thatshe would make known who he was, so he spurred his horse and struckdeep into the forest before Sir Lancelot and Sir Percivale could mountagain. They knew not which path he had taken, so Sir Percivale turnedback to ask advice of the nun, and Sir Lancelot pressed forward. [Illustration: LANCELOT AT THE CHAPEL] IV HOW SIR LANCELOT SAW A VISION, AND REPENTED OF HIS SINS He halted when he came to a stone cross, which had by it a block ofmarble, while nigh at hand stood an old chapel. He tied his horse to atree, and hung his shield on a branch, and looked into the chapel, forthe door was waste and broken. And he saw there a fair altar coveredwith a silken cloth, and a candlestick which had six branches, all ofshining silver. A great light streamed from it, and at this sight SirLancelot would fain have entered in, but he could not. So he turnedback sorrowful and dismayed, and took the saddle and bridle off hishorse, and let him pasture where he would, while he himself unlacedhis helm, and ungirded his sword, and lay down to sleep upon hisshield, at the foot of the cross. As he lay there, half waking and half sleeping, he saw two whitepalfreys come by, drawing a litter, wherein lay a sick Knight. Whenthey reached the cross they paused, and Sir Lancelot heard the Knightsay, 'O sweet Lord, when shall this sorrow leave me, and when shallthe Holy Vessel come by me, through which I shall be blessed? For Ihave endured long, though my ill deeds were few. ' Thus he spoke, andSir Lancelot heard it, and of a sudden the great candlestick stoodbefore the cross, though no man had brought it. And with it was atable of silver and the Holy Vessel of the Graal, which Lancelot hadseen aforetime. Then the Knight rose up, and on his hands and kneeshe approached the Holy Vessel, and prayed, and was made whole of hissickness. After that the Graal went back into the chapel, and thelight and the candlestick also, and Sir Lancelot would fain havefollowed, but could not, so heavy was the weight of his sins upon him. And the sick Knight arose and kissed the cross, and saw Sir Lancelotlying at the foot with his eyes shut. 'I marvel greatly at thissleeping Knight, ' he said to his squire, 'that he had no power to wakewhen the Holy Vessel was brought hither. ' 'I dare right well say, 'answered the squire, 'that he dwelleth in some deadly sin, whereof hewas never confessed. ' 'By my faith, ' said the Knight, 'he is unhappy, whoever he is, for he is of the fellowship of the Round Table, whichhave undertaken the quest of the Graal. ' 'Sir, ' replied the squire, 'you have all your arms here, save only your sword and your helm. Taketherefore those of this strange Knight, who has just put them off. 'And the Knight did as his squire said, and took Sir Lancelot's horsealso, for it was better than his own. After they had gone Sir Lancelot waked up wholly, and thought of whathe had seen, wondering if he were in a dream or not. Suddenly a voicespoke to him, and it said, 'Sir Lancelot, more hard than is the stone, more bitter than is the wood, more naked and barren than is the leafof the fig tree, art thou; therefore go from hence and withdraw theefrom this holy place. ' When Sir Lancelot heard this, his heart waspassing heavy, and he wept, cursing the day when he had been born. Buthis helm and sword had gone from the spot where he had lain them atthe foot of the cross, and his horse was gone also. And he smotehimself and cried, 'My sin and my wickedness have done me thisdishonour; for when I sought worldly adventures for worldly desires Iever achieved them and had the better in every place, and never was Idiscomfited in any quarrel, were it right or wrong. And now I takeupon me the adventures of holy things, I see and understand that myold sin hinders me, so that I could not move nor speak when the HolyGraal passed by. ' Thus he sorrowed till it was day, and he heard thebirds sing, and at that he felt comforted. And as his horse was gonealso, he departed on foot with a heavy heart. V THE ADVENTURE OF SIR PERCIVALE All this while Sir Percivale had pursued adventures of his own, andcame nigh unto losing his life, but he was saved from his enemies bythe good Knight, Sir Galahad, whom he did not know, although he wasseeking him, for Sir Galahad now bore a red shield, and not a whiteone. And at last the foes fled deep into the forest, and Sir Galahadfollowed; but Sir Percivale had no horse and was forced to staybehind. Then his eyes were opened, and he knew it was Sir Galahad whohad come to his help, and he sat down under a tree and grieved sore. While he was sitting there a Knight passed by riding a black horse, and when he was out of sight a yeoman came pricking after as fast ashe might, and, seeing Sir Percivale, asked if he had seen a Knightmounted on a black horse. 'Yes, Sir, forsooth, ' answered SirPercivale, 'why do you want to know?' 'Ah, Sir, that is my steed whichhe has taken from me, and wherever my lord shall find me, he is sureto slay me. ' 'Well, ' said Sir Percivale, 'thou seest that I am onfoot, but had I a good horse I would soon come up with him. ' 'Take myhackney, ' said the yeoman, 'and do the best you can, and I shallfollow you on foot to watch how you speed. ' So Sir Percivale rode asfast as he might, and at last he saw that Knight, and he hailed him. The Knight turned and set his spear against Sir Percivale, and smotethe hackney in the breast, so that he fell dead to the earth, and SirPercivale fell with him; then the Knight rode away. But Sir Percivalewas mad with wrath, and cried to the Knight to return and fight withhim on foot, and the Knight answered not and went on his way. WhenSir Percivale saw that he would not turn, he threw himself on theground, and cast away his helm and sword, and bemoaned himself for themost unhappy of all Knights; and there he abode the whole day, and, being faint and weary, slept till it was midnight. And at midnight hewaked and saw before him a woman, who said to him right fiercely, 'SirPercivale, what doest thou here?' 'Neither good nor great ill, 'answered he. 'If thou wilt promise to do my will when I call uponyou, ' said she, 'I will lend you my own horse, and he shall bear theewhither thou shalt choose. ' This Sir Percivale promised gladly, andthe woman went and returned with a black horse, so large andwell-apparelled that Sir Percivale marvelled. But he mounted himgladly, and drove in his spurs, and within an hour and less the horsebare him four days' journey hence, and would have borne him into arough water that roared, had not Sir Percivale pulled at his bridle. The Knight stood doubting, for the water made a great noise, and hefeared lest his horse could not get through it. Still, wishing greatlyto pass over, he made himself ready, and signed the sign of the crossupon his forehead. [Illustration: SIR PERCIVALE SLAYS THE SERPENT] At that the fiend which had taken the shape of a horse shook off SirPercivale and dashed into the water, crying and making great sorrow;and it seemed to him that the water burned. Then Sir Percivale knewthat it was not a horse but a fiend, which would have brought him toperdition, and he gave thanks and prayed all that night long. As soonas it was day he looked about him, and saw he was in a wild mountain, girt round with the sea and filled with wild beasts. Then he rose andwent into a valley, and there he saw a young serpent bring a younglion by the neck, and after that there passed a great lion, crying androaring after the serpent, and a fierce battle began between them. SirPercivale thought to help the lion, as he was the more natural beastof the twain, and he drew his sword and set his shield before him, andgave the serpent a deadly buffet. When the lion saw that, he made himall the cheer that a beast might make a man, and fawned about him likea spaniel, and stroked him with his paws. And about noon the lion tookhis little whelp, and placed him on his back, and bare him home again, and Sir Percivale, being left alone, prayed till he was comforted. Butat eventide the lion returned, and couched down at his feet, and allnight long he and the lion slept together. VI AN ADVENTURE OF SIR LANCELOT As Lancelot went his way through the forest he met with many hermitswho dwelled therein, and had adventure with the Knight who stole hishorse and his helm, and got them back again. And he learned from oneof the hermits that Sir Galahad was his son, and that it was he who atthe Feast of Pentecost had sat in the Siege Perilous, which it wasordained by Merlin that none should sit in save the best Knight in theworld. All that night Sir Lancelot abode with the hermit and laid himto rest, a hair shirt always on his body, and it pricked him sorely, but he bore it meekly and suffered the pain. When the day dawned hebade the hermit farewell. As he rode he came to a fair plain, in whichwas a great castle set about with tents and pavilions of divers hues. Here were full five hundred Knights riding on horseback, and thosenear the castle were mounted on black horses with black trappings, andthey that were without were on white horses and their trappings white. And the two sides fought together, and Sir Lancelot looked on. At last it seemed to him that the black Knights nearest the castlefared the worst, so, as he ever took the part of the weaker, he rodeto their help and smote many of the white Knights to the earth and didmarvellous deeds of arms. But always the white Knights held round SirLancelot to tire him out. And as no man may endure for ever, in theend Sir Lancelot waxed so faint of fighting that his arms would notlift themselves to deal a stroke; then they took him, and led him awayinto the forest and made him alight from his horse and rest, and whenhe was taken the fellowship of the castle were overcome for want ofhim. 'Never ere now was I at tournament or jousts but I had the best, 'moaned Sir Lancelot to himself, as soon as the Knights had left himand he was alone. 'But now am I shamed, and I am persuaded that I ammore sinful than ever I was. ' Sorrowfully he rode on till he passed achapel, where stood a nun, who called to him and asked him his nameand what he was seeking. So he told her who he was, and what had befallen him at thetournament, and the vision that had come to him in his sleep. 'Ah, Lancelot, ' said she, 'as long as you were a knight of earthlyknighthood you were the most wonderful man in the world and the mostadventurous. But now, since you are set among Knights of heavenlyadventures, if you were worsted at that tournament it is no marvel. For the tournament was meant for a sign, and the earthly Knights werethey who were clothed in black in token of the sins of which they werenot yet purged. And the white Knights were they who had chosen the wayof holiness, and in them the quest has already begun. Thus you beheldboth the sinners and the good men, and when you saw the sinnersovercome you went to their help, as they were your fellows in boastingand pride of the world, and all that must be left in that quest. Andthat caused your misadventure. Now that I have warned you of yourvain-glory and your pride, beware of everlasting pain, for of allearthly Knights I have pity of you, for I know well that among earthlysinful Knights you are without peer. ' VII AN ADVENTURE OF SIR GAWAINE Sir Gawaine rode long without meeting any adventure, and fromPentecost to Michaelmas found none that pleased him. But at Michaelmashe met Sir Ector de Maris and rejoiced greatly. As they sat talking there appeared before them a hand showing unto theelbow covered with red samite, and holding a great candle that burnedright clear; and the hand passed into the chapel and vanished, theyknew not where. Then they heard a voice which said, 'Knights full ofevil faith and poor belief, these two things have failed you, andtherefore you may not come to the adventure of the Holy Graal. ' Andthis same told them a holy man to whom they confessed their sins, 'for, ' said he, 'you have failed in three things, charity, fasting, and truth, and have been great murderers. But sinful as Sir Lancelotwas, since he went into the quest he never slew man, nor shall, tillhe come into Camelot again. For he has taken upon him to forsake sin. And were he not so unstable, he should be the next to achieve it, after Galahad his son. Yet shall he die an holy man, and in earthlysinful men he has no fellow. ' 'Sir, ' said Gawaine, 'by your words it seems that our sins will notlet us labour in that quest?' 'Truly, ' answered the hermit, 'there bean hundred such as you to whom it will bring naught but shame. ' SoGawaine departed and followed Sir Ector, who had ridden on before. VIII THE ADVENTURE OF SIR BORS When Sir Bors left Camelot on his quest he met a holy man riding on anass, and Sir Bors saluted him. Then the good man knew him to be one ofthe Knights who were in quest of the Holy Graal. 'What are you?' saidhe, and Sir Bors answered, 'I am a Knight that fain would becounselled in the quest of the Graal, for he shall have much earthlyworship that brings it to an end. ' 'That is true, ' said the good man, 'for he will be the best Knight in the world, but know well that thereshall none attain it but by holiness and by confession of sin. ' Sothey rode together till they came to the hermitage, and the good manled Sir Bors into the chapel, where he made confession of his sins, and they ate bread and drank water together. 'Now, ' said the hermit, 'I pray you that you eat none other till you sit at the table wherethe Holy Graal shall be. ' 'Sir, ' answered Sir Bors, 'I agree thereto, but how know you that I shall sit there?' 'That know I, ' said the holyman, 'but there will be but few of your fellows with you. Also insteadof a shirt you shall wear this garment until you have achieved yourquest, ' and Sir Bors took off his clothes, and put on instead ascarlet coat. Then the good man questioned him, and marvelled to findhim pure in life, and he armed him and bade him go. After this SirBors rode through many lands, and had many adventures, and was oftensore tempted, but remembered the words of the holy man and kept hislife clean of wrong. And once he had by mischance almost slain his ownbrother, but a voice cried, 'Flee, Bors, and touch him not, ' and hehearkened and stayed his hand. And there fell between them a fierycloud, which burned up both their shields, and they two fell to theearth in a great swoon; but when they awakened out of it Bors saw thathis brother had no harm. With that the voice spoke to him saying, 'Bors, go hence and bear your brother fellowship no longer; but takeyour way to the sea, where Sir Percivale abides till you come. ' ThenSir Bors prayed his brother to forgive him all he had unknowinglydone, and rode straight to the sea. On the shore he found a vesselcovered with white samite, and as soon as he stepped in the vessel itset sail so fast it might have been flying, and Sir Bors lay down andslept till it was day. When he waked he saw a Knight lying in themidst of the ship, all armed save for his helm, and he knew him forSir Percivale, and welcomed him with great joy; and they told eachother of their adventures and of their temptations, and had greathappiness in each other's company. 'We lack nothing but Galahad, thegood Knight, ' Sir Percivale said. [Illustration: HOW SIR BORS WAS SAVED FROM KILLING HIS BROTHER] IX ADVENTURE OF SIR GALAHAD Sir Galahad rested one evening at a hermitage. And while he wasresting, there came a gentlewoman and asked leave of the hermit tospeak with Sir Galahad, and would not be denied, though she was toldhe was weary and asleep. Then the hermit waked Sir Galahad and badehim rise, as a gentlewoman had great need of him, so Sir Galahad roseand asked her what she wished. 'Galahad, ' said she, 'I will that youarm yourself, and mount your horse and follow me, and I will show youthe highest adventure that ever any Knight saw. ' And Sir Galahad badeher go, and he would follow wherever she led. In three days theyreached the sea, where they found the ship where Sir Bors and SirPercivale were lying. And the lady bade him leave his horse behind andsaid she would leave hers also, but their saddles and bridles theywould take on board the ship. This they did, and were received withgreat joy by the two Knights; then the sails were spread, and the shipwas driven before the wind at a marvellous pace till they reached theland of Logris, the entrance to which lies between two great rockswith a whirlpool in the middle. Their own ship might not get safely through; but they left it and wentinto another ship that lay there, which had neither man nor woman init. At the end of the ship was written these words: 'Thou man whichshalt enter this ship beware thou be in steadfast belief; if thoufail, I shall not help thee. ' Then the gentlewoman turned and said, 'Percivale, do you know who I am?' 'No, truly, ' answered he. 'I amyour sister, and therefore you are the man in the world that I mostlove. If you are without faith, or have any hidden sin, beware how youenter, else you will perish. ' 'Fair sister, ' answered he, 'I shallenter therein, for if I am an untrue Knight then shall I perish. ' Sothey entered the ship, and it was rich and well adorned, that they allmarvelled. In the midst of it was a fair bed, and Sir Galahad went thereto andfound on it a crown of silk, and a sword drawn out of its sheath halfa foot and more. The sword was of divers fashions, and the pommel ofstone, wrought about with colours, and every colour with its ownvirtue, and the handle was of the ribs of two beasts. The one was thebone of a serpent, and no hand that handles it shall ever become wearyor hurt; and the other is a bone of a fish that swims in Euphrates, and whoso handles it shall not think on joy or sorrow that he has had, but only on that which he beholds before him. And no man shall gripthis sword but one that is better than other men. So first SirPercivale stepped forward and set his hand to the sword, but he mightnot grasp it. Next Sir Bors tried to seize it, but he also failed. When Sir Galahad beheld the sword, he saw that there was written onit, in letters of blood, that he who tried to draw it should neverfail of shame in his body or be wounded to the death. 'By my faith, 'said Galahad, 'I would draw this sword out of its sheath, but theoffending is so great I shall not lay my hand thereto. ' 'Sir, 'answered the gentlewoman, 'know that no man can draw this sword saveyou alone'; and she told him many tales of the Knights who had settheir hands to it, and of the evil things that had befallen them. Andthey all begged Sir Galahad to grip the sword, as it was ordained thathe should. 'I will grip it, ' said Galahad, 'to give you courage, butit belongs no more to me than it does to you. ' Then he gripped ittight with his fingers, and the gentlewoman girt him about the middlewith the sword, and after that they left that ship and went intoanother, which brought them to land, where they fell upon manystrange adventures. And when they had wrought many great deeds, theydeparted from each other. But first Sir Percivale's sister died, beingbled to death, so that another lady might live, and she prayed them tolay her body in a boat and leave the boat to go as the winds and wavescarried it. And so it was done, and Sir Percivale wrote a lettertelling how she had helped them in all their adventures; and he put itin her right hand, and laid her in a barge, and covered it with blacksilk. And the wind arose and drove it from their sight. X SIR LANCELOT MEETS SIR GALAHAD, AND THEY PART FOR EVER Now we must tell what happened to Sir Lancelot. When he was come to a water called Mortoise he fell asleep, awaitingfor the adventure that should be sent to him, and in his sleep a voicespoke to him, and bade him rise and take his armour, and enter thefirst ship he should find. So he started up and took his arms and madehim ready, and on the strand he found a ship that was without sail oroar. As soon as he was within the ship, he felt himself wrapped roundwith a sweetness such as he had never known before, as if all that hecould desire was fulfilled. And with this joy and peace about him hefell asleep. When he woke he found near him a fair bed, with a deadlady lying on it, whom he knew to be Sir Percivale's sister, and inher hand was the tale of her adventures, which Sir Lancelot took andread. For a month or more they dwelt in that ship together, and oneday, when it had drifted near the shore, he heard a sound as of ahorse; and when the steps came nearer he saw that a Knight was ridinghim. At the sight of the ship the Knight alighted and took the saddleand bridle, and entered the ship. 'You are welcome, ' said Lancelot, and the Knight saluted him and said, 'What is your name? for my heartgoeth out to you. ' 'Truly, ' answered he, 'my name is Sir Lancelot du Lake. ' 'Sir, ' said the new Knight, 'you are welcome, for you were thebeginner of me in the world. ' 'Ah, ' cried Sir Lancelot, 'is it you, then, Galahad?' 'Yes, in sooth, ' said he, and kneeled down and asked Lancelot'sblessing, and then took off his helm and kissed him. And there wasgreat joy between them, and they told each other all that had befallenthem since they left King Arthur's Court. Then Galahad saw thegentlewoman dead on the bed, and he knew her, and said he held her ingreat worship, and that she was the best maid in the world, and how itwas great pity that she had come to her death. But when Lancelot heardthat Galahad had won the marvellous sword he prayed that he might seeit, and kissed the pommel and the hilt, and the scabbard. 'In truth, 'he said, 'never did I know of adventures so wonderful and strange. ' Sodwelled Lancelot and Galahad in that ship for half a year, and servedGod daily and nightly with all their power. And after six months hadgone it befell that on a Monday they drifted to the edge of theforest, where they saw a Knight with white armour bestriding one horseand holding another all white, by the bridle. And he came to the ship, and saluted the two Knights and said, 'Galahad, you have been longenough with your father, therefore leave that ship and start upon thishorse, and go on the quest of the Holy Graal. ' So Galahad went to hisfather and kissed him, saying, 'Fair sweet father, I know not if Ishall see you more till I have beheld the Holy Graal. ' Then they hearda voice which said, 'The one shall never see the other till the day ofdoom. ' 'Now, Galahad, ' said Lancelot, 'since we are to bid farewellfor ever now, I pray to the great Father to preserve me and you both. ''Sir, ' answered Galahad, 'no prayer availeth so much as yours. ' The next day Sir Lancelot made his way back to Camelot, where he foundKing Arthur and Guenevere; but many of the Knights of the Round Tablewere slain and destroyed, more than the half. All the Court waspassing glad to see Sir Lancelot, and the King asked many tidings ofhis son Sir Galahad. XI HOW SIR GALAHAD FOUND THE GRAAL AND DIED OF THAT FINDING Sir Galahad rode on till he met Sir Percivale and afterwards Sir Bors, whom they greeted most gladly, and they bare each other company. Firstthey came to the Castle of Carbonek, where dwelled King Pelles, whowelcomed them with joy, for he knew by their coming that they hadfulfilled the quest of the Graal. They then departed on otheradventures, and with the blood out of the Holy Lance Galahad anointedthe maimed King and healed him. That same night at midnight a voicebade them arise and quit the castle, which they did, followed by threeKnights of Gaul. Then Galahad prayed every one of them that if theyreached King Arthur's Court they should salute Sir Lancelot hisfather, and those Knights of the Round Table that were present, andwith that he left them, and Sir Bors and Sir Percivale with him. Forthree days they rode till they came to a shore, and found a shipawaiting them. And in the midst of it was the table of silver, and theHoly Graal which was covered with red samite. Then were their heartsright glad, and they made great reverence thereto, and Galahad prayedthat at what time he asked, he might depart out of this world. So longhe prayed that at length a voice said to him, 'Galahad, thou shalthave thy desire, and when thou askest the death of the body thou shalthave it, and shalt find the life of the soul. ' Percivale likewiseheard the voice, and besought Galahad to tell him why he asked suchthings. And Galahad answered, 'The other day when we saw a part of theadventures of the Holy Graal, I was in such a joy of heart thatnever did man feel before, and I knew well that when my body is deadmy soul shall be in joy of which the other was but a shadow. ' [Illustration: LANCELOT & THE DWARF. ] Some time were the three Knights in that ship, till at length they sawbefore them the city of Sarras. Then they took from the ship the tableof silver, and Sir Percivale and Sir Bors went first, and Sir Galahadfollowed after to the gate of the city, where sat an old man that wascrooked. At the sight of the old man Sir Galahad called to him to helpthem carry the table, for it was heavy. 'Truly, ' answered the old man, 'it is ten years since I have gone without crutches. ' 'Care not forthat, ' said Galahad, 'but rise up and show your good will. ' So hearose and found himself as whole as ever he was, and he ran to thetable and held up the side next Galahad. And there was much noise inthe city that a cripple was healed by three Knights newly entered in. This reached the ears of the King, who sent for the Knights andquestioned them. And they told him the truth, and of the Holy Graal;but the King listened nothing to all they said, but put them into adeep hole in the prison. Even here they were not without comfort, fora vision of the Holy Graal sustained them. And at the end of a yearthe King lay sick and felt he should die, and he called the threeKnights and asked forgiveness of the evil he had done to them, whichthey gave gladly. Then he died, and the whole city was afraid and knewnot what to do, till while they were in counsel a voice came to themand bade them choose the youngest of the three strange Knights fortheir King. And they did so. After Galahad was proclaimed King, heordered that a coffer of gold and precious stones should be made toencompass the table of silver, and every day he and the two Knightswould kneel before it and make their prayers. Now at the year's end, and on the selfsame day that Galahad had beencrowned King, he arose up early and came with the two Knights to thePalace; and he saw a man in the likeness of a Bishop, encircled by agreat crowd of angels, kneeling before the Holy Vessel. And he calledto Galahad and said to him, 'Come forth, thou servant of Christ, andthou shalt see what thou hast much desired to see. ' Then Galahad beganto tremble right hard, when the flesh first beheld the things of thespirit, and he held up his hands to heaven and said, 'Lord, I thankthee, for now I see that which hath been my desire for many a day. Now, blessed Lord, I would no longer live, if it might please Thee. 'Then Galahad went to Percivale and kissed him, and commended him toGod; and he went to Sir Bors and kissed him, and commended him to God, and said, 'Fair lord, salute me to my lord Sir Lancelot, my father, and bid him remember this unstable world. ' Therewith he kneeled downbefore the table and made his prayers, and while he was praying hissoul suddenly left the body and was carried by angels up into heaven, which the two Knights right well beheld. Also they saw come fromheaven a hand, but no body behind it, and it came unto the Vessel, andtook it and the spear, and bare them back to heaven. And since then noman has dared to say that he has seen the Holy Graal. When Percivale and Bors saw Galahad lying dead they made as muchsorrow as ever two men did, and the people of the country and of thecity were right heavy. And they buried him as befitted their King. Assoon as Galahad was buried, Sir Percivale sought a hermitage outsidethe city, and put on the dress of a hermit, and Sir Bors was alwayswith him, but kept the dress that he wore at Court. When a year andtwo months had passed Sir Percivale died also, and was buried by theside of Galahad; and Sir Bors left that land, and after long ridingcame to Camelot. Then was there great joy made of him in the Court, for they had held him as dead; and the King ordered great clerks toattend him, and to write down all his adventures and those of SirPercivale and Sir Galahad. Next, Sir Lancelot told the adventures ofthe Graal which he had seen, and this likewise was written and placedwith the other in almonries at Salisbury. And by and by Sir Bors saidto Sir Lancelot, 'Galahad your son saluteth you by me, and after youKing Arthur and all the Court, and so did Sir Percivale; for I buriedthem with mine own hands in the City of Sarras. Also, Sir Lancelot, Galahad prayeth you to remember of this uncertain world, as youpromised when you were together!' 'That is true, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'and I trust his prayer may avail me. ' But the prayer but littleavailed Sir Lancelot, for he fell to his old sins again. And now theKnights were few that survived the search for the Graal, and the evildays of Arthur began. THE FIGHT FOR THE QUEEN So the quest of the Holy Graal had been fulfilled, and the few Knightsthat had been left alive returned to the Round Table, and there wasgreat joy in the Court. To do them honour the Queen made them adinner; and there were four and twenty Knights present, and among themSir Patrise of Ireland, and Sir Gawaine and his brethren, the King'snephews, which were Sir Agrawaine, Sir Gaheris, Sir Gareth, and SirMordred. Now it was the custom of Sir Gawaine daily at dinner andsupper to eat all manner of fruit, and especially pears and apples, and this the Queen knew, and set fruit of all sorts before him. Andthere was present at the dinner one Sir Pinel le Savage, who hated SirGawaine because he and his brethren had slain Sir Lamorak du Galis, cousin to Sir Pinel; so he put poison into some of the apples, hopingthat Sir Gawaine would eat one and die. But by ill fortune it befellthat the good Knight Sir Patrise took a poisoned apple, and in a fewmoments he lay dead and stark in his seat. At this sight all theKnights leapt to their feet, but said nothing, for they bethought themthat Queen Guenevere had made them the dinner, and feared that she hadpoisoned the fruit. 'My lady, the Queen, ' said Sir Gawaine, who was the first to speak, 'this fruit was brought for me, for all know how well I love it;therefore, Madam, the shame of this ill deed is yours. ' The Queenstood still, pale and trembling, but kept silence, and next spoke SirMador de la Porte. 'This shall not be ended so, ' said he, 'for I have lost a noble Knightof my blood, and I will be avenged of the person who has wrought thisevil. ' And he turned to the Queen and said 'Madam, it is you who havebrought about the death of my cousin Sir Patrise!' The Knights roundlistened in silence, for they too thought Sir Mador spake truth. Andthe Queen still said nothing, but fell to weeping bitterly, till KingArthur heard and came to look into the matter. And when they told himof their trouble his heart was heavy within him. 'Fair lords, ' said the King at last, 'I grieve for this ill deed; butI cannot meddle therein, or do battle for my wife, for I have to judgejustly. Sure I am that this deed is none of hers, therefore many agood Knight will stand her champion that she be not burned to death ina wrong quarrel. And, Sir Mador, hold not your head so high, but fixthe day of battle, when you shall find a Knight to answer you, or elseit were great shame to all my Court. ' 'My gracious lord, ' said Sir Mador, 'you must hold me excused. Butthough you are a King you are also a Knight, and must obey the laws ofKnighthood. Therefore I beseech your forgiveness if I declare thatnone of the four and twenty Knights here present will fight thatbattle. What say you, my lords?' Then the Knights answered that theycould not hold the Queen guiltless, for as the dinner was made by hereither she or her servants must have done this thing. 'Alas!' said the Queen, 'no evil was in my heart when I prepared thisfeast, for never have I done such foul deeds. ' 'My lord the King, ' cried Sir Mador, 'I require of you, as you are ajust King, to fix a day that I may get ready for the fight!' 'Well, ' answered the King, 'on the fifteenth day from this come onhorseback to the meadow that is by Westminster. And if it happens thatthere be a Knight to fight with you, strike as hard as you will, Godwill speed the right. But if no Knight is there, then must my Queen beburned, and a fire shall be made in the meadow. ' [Illustration: SIR MADOR ACCUSES GUENEVERE] 'I am answered, ' said Sir Mador, and he and the rest of the Knightsdeparted. When the King and Queen were left alone he asked her what had broughtall this about. 'God help me, that I know not, ' said the Queen, 'norhow it was done. ' 'Where is Sir Lancelot?' said King Arthur, looking round. 'If he werehere he would not grudge to do battle for you. ' 'Sir, ' replied the Queen, 'I know not where he is, but his brother andhis kinsmen think he is not in this realm. ' 'I grieve for that, ' said the King, 'for he would soon stop thisstrife. But I counsel you, ask Sir Bors, and he will not refuse you. For well I see that none of the four and twenty Knights who were withyou at dinner will be your champion, and none will say well of you, but men will speak evil of you at the Court. ' 'Alas!' sighed the Queen, 'I do indeed miss Sir Lancelot, for he wouldsoon ease my heart. ' 'What ails you?' asked the King, 'that you cannot keep Sir Lancelot atyour side, for well you know that he who Sir Lancelot fights for hasthe best Knight in the world for his champion. Now go your way, andcommand Sir Bors to do battle with you for Sir Lancelot's sake. ' Sothe Queen departed from the King, and sent for Sir Bors into herchamber, and when he came she besought his help. 'Madam, ' said he, 'what can I do? for I may not meddle in this matterlest the Knights who were at the dinner have me in suspicion, for Iwas there also. It is now, Madam, that you miss Sir Lancelot, whom youhave driven away, as he would have done battle for you were you rightor wrong, and I wonder how for shame's sake you can ask me, knowinghow I love and honour him. ' 'Alas, ' said the Queen, 'I throw myself on your grace, ' and she wentdown on her knees and besought Sir Bors to have mercy on her, 'else Ishall have a shameful death, and one I have never deserved. ' At thatKing Arthur came in, and found her kneeling before Sir Bors. 'Madam!you do me great dishonour, ' said Sir Bors, raising her up. 'Ah, gentle Knight, ' cried the King, 'have mercy on my Queen, for I amsure that they speak falsely. And I require by the love of SirLancelot that you do battle for her instead of him. ' 'My lord, ' answered Sir Bors, 'you require of me the hardest thingthat ever anyone asked of me, for well you know that if I fight forthe Queen I shall anger all my companions of the Round Table; but Iwill not say nay, my lord, for Sir Lancelot's sake and for your sake!On that day I will be the Queen's champion, unless a better Knight isfound to do battle for her. ' 'Will you promise me this?' asked the King. 'Yes, ' answered Sir Bors, 'I will not fail you nor her, unless thereshould come a better Knight than I, then he shall have the battle. 'Then the King and Queen rejoiced greatly, and thanked Sir Bors withall their hearts. So Sir Bors departed and rode unto Sir Lancelot, who was with thehermit Sir Brasias, and told him of this adventure. 'Ah, ' said SirLancelot, 'this has befallen as I would have it, and therefore I prayyou make ready to do battle, but delay the fight as long as you canthat I may appear. For I am sure that Sir Mador is a hot Knight, andthe longer he waits the more impatient he will be for the combat. ' 'Sir, ' answered Sir Bors, 'let me deal with him. Doubt not you shallhave all your will. ' And he rode away, and came again to the Court. It was soon noised about that Sir Bors would be the Queen's champion, and many Knights were displeased with him; but there were a few whoheld the Queen to be innocent. Sir Bors spoke unto them all and said, 'It were shameful, my fair lords, if we suffered the most noble Queenin the world to be disgraced openly, not only for her sake, but forthe King's. ' But they answered him: 'As for our lord King Arthur, welove him and honour him as much as you; but as for Queen Guenevere, we love her not, for she is the destroyer of good Knights. ' [Illustration: GUENEVERE & SIR BORS] 'Fair lords, ' said Sir Bors, 'you shall not speak such words, fornever yet have I heard that she was the destroyer of good Knights. Butat all times, as far as I ever knew, she maintained them and gave themmany gifts. And therefore it were a shame to us all if we suffered ournoble King's wife to be put to death, and I will not suffer it. Somuch I will say, that the Queen is not guilty of Sir Patrise's death;for she owed him no ill will, and bade him and us to the dinner for noevil purpose, which will be proved hereafter. And in any case therewas foul dealing among us. ' 'We may believe your words, ' said some of the Knights, but others heldthat he spoke falsely. The days passed quickly by until the evening before the battle, whenthe Queen sent for Sir Bors and asked him if he was ready to keep hispromise. 'Truly, Madam, ' answered he, 'I shall not fail you, unless a betterKnight than I am come to do battle for you. Then, Madam, I amdischarged of my promise. ' 'Shall I tell this to my lord Arthur?' said the Queen. 'If it pleases you, Madam, ' answered Sir Bors. So the Queen went tothe King, and told him what Sir Bors had said, and the King bade herto be comforted, as Sir Bors was one of the best Knights of the RoundTable. The next morning the King and Queen, and all manner of Knights, rodeinto the meadow of Westminster, where the battle was to be; and theQueen was put into the Guard of the High Constable, and a stout ironstake was planted, and a great fire made about it, at which the Queenshould be burned if Sir Mador de la Porte won the fight. For it wasthe custom in those days that neither fear nor favour, love norkinship, should hinder right judgment. Then came Sir Mador de laPorte, and made oath before the King that the Queen had done to deathhis cousin Sir Patrise, and he would prove it on her Knight's body, let who would say the contrary. Sir Bors likewise made answer thatQueen Guenevere had done no wrong, and that he would make good withhis two hands. 'Then get you ready, ' said Sir Mador. 'Sir Mador, 'answered Sir Bors, 'I know you for a good Knight, but I trust to beable to withstand your malice; and I have promised King Arthur and myLady the Queen that I will do battle for her to the uttermost, unlessthere come forth a better Knight than I am. ' 'Is that all?' asked Sir Mador; 'but you must either fight now or ownthat you are beaten. ' 'Take your horse, ' said Sir Bors, 'for I shall not tarry long, ' andSir Mador forthwith rode into the field with his shield on hisshoulder, and his spear in his hand, and he went up and down cryingunto King Arthur, 'Bid your champion come forth if he dare. ' At thatSir Bors was ashamed, and took his horse, and rode to the end of thelists. But from a wood hard by appeared a Knight riding fast on awhite horse, bearing a shield full of strange devices. When he reachedSir Bors he drew rein and said, 'Fair Knight, be not displeased, butthis battle must be to a better Knight than you. For I have come agreat journey to fight this fight, as I promised when I spoke with youlast, and I thank you heartily for your goodwill. ' So Sir Bors went toKing Arthur and told him that a Knight had come who wished to dobattle for the Queen. 'What Knight is he?' asked the King. 'That I know not, ' said Sir Bors; 'but he made a covenant with me tobe here this day, and now I am discharged, ' said Sir Bors. Then the King called to that Knight and asked him if he would fightfor the Queen. 'For that purpose I came hither, ' replied he, 'andtherefore, Sir King, delay me no longer, for as soon as I have endedthis battle I must go hence, as I have many matters elsewhere. AndI would have you know that it is a dishonour to all the Knights of theRound Table to let so noble a lady and so courteous a Queen as QueenGuenevere be shamed amongst you. ' [Illustration: ARTHUR AND GUENEVERE KISS BEFORE ALL THE PEOPLE] The Knights who were standing round looked at each other at thesewords, and wondered much what man this was who took the battle uponhim, for none knew him save Sir Bors. 'Sir, ' said Sir Mador de la Porte unto the King, 'let me know the nameof him with whom I have to do. ' But the King answered nothing, andmade a sign for the fight to begin. They rode to the end of the lists, and couched their spears and rushed together with all their force, andSir Mador's spear broke in pieces. But the other Knight's spear heldfirm, and he pressed on Sir Mador's horse till it fell backward with agreat fall. Sir Mador sprang from his horse, and, placing his shieldbefore him, drew his sword, and bade his foe dismount from his horsealso, and do battle with him on foot, which the unknown Knight did. For an hour they fought thus, as Sir Mador was a strong man, and hadproved himself the victor in many combats. At last the Knight smoteSir Mador grovelling to his knees, and the Knight stepped forward tohave struck him flat upon the ground. Therewith Sir Mador suddenlyrose, and smote the Knight upon the thigh, so that the blood ran outfiercely. But when the Knight felt himself wounded, and saw his blood, he let Sir Mador rise to his feet, and then he gave him such a buffeton the helm that this time Sir Mador fell his length on the earth, andthe Knight sprang to him, to unloose his helm. At this Sir Madorprayed for his life, acknowledging that he was overcome, and confessedthat the Queen's innocence had been proved. 'I will only grant youyour life, ' said the Knight, 'if you will proclaim publicly that youhave foully slandered the Queen, and that you make no mention, on thetomb of Sir Patrise, that ever Queen Guenevere consented to hismurder. ' 'All that will I do, ' said Sir Mador, and some Knights tookhim up, and carried him away to heal his wounds. And the other Knightwent straight to the foot of the steps where sat King Arthur, andthere the Queen had just come, and the King and the Queen kissed eachother before all the people. When King Arthur saw the Knight standingthere he stooped down to him and thanked him, and so likewise did theQueen; and they prayed him to put off his helmet, and commanded wineto be brought, and when he unlaced his helmet to drink they knew himto be Sir Lancelot du Lake. Then Arthur took the Queen's hand and ledher to Sir Lancelot and said, 'Sir, I give you the most heartfeltthanks of the great deed you have done this day for me and my Queen. ' 'My lord, ' answered Sir Lancelot, 'you know well that I ought of rightever to fight your battles, and those of my lady the Queen. For it wasyou who gave me the high honour of Knighthood, and that same day mylady the Queen did me a great service, else I should have been put toshame before all men. Because in my hastiness I lost my sword, and mylady the Queen found it and gave it to me when I had sore need of it. And therefore, my lord Arthur, I promised her that day that I would beher Knight in right or in wrong. ' 'I owe you great thanks, ' said the King, 'and some time I hope torepay you. ' The Queen, beholding Sir Lancelot, wept tears of joy forher deliverance, and felt bowed to the ground with sorrow at thethought of what he had done for her, when she had sent him away withunkind words. Then all the Knights of the Round Table and his kinsmendrew near to him and welcomed him, and there was great mirth in theCourt. _THE FAIR MAID OF ASTOLAT_ Soon after this it befell that the damsel of the lake, called by someNimue and by others Vivien, wedded Sir Pelleas, and came to the Courtof King Arthur. And when she heard the talk of the death of SirPatrise and how the Queen had been accused of it, she found out bymeans of her magic that the tale was false, and told it openly thatthe Queen was innocent and that it was Sir Pinel who had poisoned theapple. Then he fled into his own country, where none might lay handson him. So Sir Patrise was buried in the Church of Westminster, and onhis tomb was written, 'Here lieth Sir Patrise of Ireland, slain by SirPinel le Savage, that empoisoned apples to have slain Sir Gawaine, andby misfortune Sir Patrise ate one of those apples and then suddenly heburst. ' Also there was put upon the tomb that Queen Guenevere wasaccused of the death of Sir Patrise by Sir Mador de la Porte, and howSir Lancelot fought with him and overcame him in battle. All this waswritten on the tomb. And daily Sir Mador prayed to have the Queen's grace once more, and bymeans of Sir Lancelot he was forgiven. It was now the middle of thesummer, and King Arthur proclaimed that in fifteen days a greattourney should be held at Camelot, which is now called Winchester, andmany Knights and Kings made ready to do themselves honour. But theQueen said she would stay behind, for she was sick, and did not carefor the noise and bustle of a tourney. 'It grieves me you should saythat, ' said the King, for you will not have seen so noble a companygathered together this seven years past, save at the Whitsuntide whenGalahad departed from the Court. ' 'Truly, ' answered the Queen, 'the sight will be grand. Neverthelessyou must hold me excused, for I cannot be there. ' Sir Lancelot likewise declared that his wounds were not healed andthat he could not bear himself in a tourney as he was wont to do. Atthis the King was wroth, that he might not have either his Queen orhis best Knight with him, and he departed towards Winchester and bythe way lodged in a town now called Guildford, but then Astolat. Andwhen the King had set forth, the Queen sent for Sir Lancelot, and toldhim he was to blame for having excused himself from going with theKing, who set such store by his company; and Sir Lancelot said hewould be ruled by her, and would ride forth next morning on his way toWinchester; 'but I should have you know, ' said he, 'that at thetourney I shall be against the King and his Knights. ' 'You must do as you please, ' replied the Queen, 'but if you will beruled by my counsel, you will fight on his side. ' 'Madam, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'I pray you not to be displeased with me. I will take the adventure as it comes, ' and early next morning he rodeaway till at eventide he reached Astolat. He went through the towntill he stopped before the house of an old Baron, Sir Bernard ofAstolat, and as he dismounted from his horse, the King spied him fromthe gardens of the castle. 'It is well, ' he said smiling to theKnights that were beside him, 'I see one man who will play his part inthe jousts, and I will undertake that he will do marvels. ' 'Who is that?' asked they all. 'You must wait to know that, ' repliedthe King, and went into the castle. Meantime Sir Lancelot had enteredhis lodging, and the old Baron bade him welcome, but he knew not itwas Sir Lancelot. 'Fair Sir, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'I pray you lend me, if you can, a shield with a device which no man knows, for mine theyknow well. ' 'Sir, ' answered Sir Bernard, 'you shall have your wish, for you seemone of the goodliest Knights in the world. And, Sir, I have two sons, both but lately knighted, Sir Tirre who was wounded on the day of hisKnighthood, and his shield you shall have. My youngest son, SirLavaine, shall ride with you, if you will have his company, to thejousts. For my heart is much drawn to you, and tell me, I beseech you, what name I shall call you by. ' 'You must hold me excused as to that, just now, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'but if I speedwell at the jousts, I will come again and tell you. Butlet me have Sir Lavaine with me, and lend me, as you have offered, hisbrother's shield. ' 'This shall be done, ' replied Sir Bernard. Besides these two sons, Sir Bernard had a daughter whom everyonecalled The Fair Maid of Astolat, though her real name was Elaine leBlanc. And when she looked on Sir Lancelot, her love went forth to himand she could never take it back, and in the end it killed her. Assoon as her father told her that Sir Lancelot was going to the tourneyshe besought him to wear her token in the jousts, but he was notwilling. 'Fair damsel, ' he said, 'if I did that, I should have donemore for your love than ever I did for lady or damsel. ' But then heremembered that he was to go disguised to the tourney, and because hehad before never worn any manner of token of any damsel, he bethoughthim that, if he should take one of hers, none would know him. So hesaid to her, 'Fair damsel, I will wear your token on my helmet, if youwill show me what it is. ' 'Sir, ' she answered, 'it is a red sleeve, embroidered in greatpearls, ' and she brought it to him. 'Never have I done so much for anydamsel, ' said he, and gave his own shield into her keeping, till hecame again. Sir Arthur had waited three days in Astolat for someKnights who were long on the road, and when they had arrived they allset forth, and were followed by Sir Lancelot and Sir Lavaine, bothwith white shields, and Sir Lancelot bore besides the red sleeve thatwas a token. Now Camelot was filled with a great number of Kings andLords and Knights, but Sir Lavaine found means to lodge both himselfand Sir Lancelot secretly with a rich burgess, and no man knew whothey were or whence they came. And there they stayed till the day ofthe tourney. At earliest dawn the trumpets blew, and King Arthur tookhis seat upon a high scaffold, so that he might see who had done best;but he would not suffer Sir Gawaine to go from his side, for SirGawaine never won the prize when Sir Lancelot was in the field, and asKing Arthur knew, Sir Lancelot oftentimes disguised himself. Then the Knights formed into two parties and Sir Lancelot made himready, and fastened the red sleeve upon his helmet, and he and SirLavaine rode into a little wood that lay behind the Knights who shouldfight against those of the Round Table. 'Sir, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'yonder is a company of good Knights and they hold together as boarsthat are vexed with dogs. ' 'That is truth, ' said Sir Lavaine. 'Now, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'if you will help me a little, you shall seeKing Arthur's side, which is winning, driven back as fast as theycame. ' 'Spare not, Sir, ' answered Sir Lavaine, 'for I shall do what I may. 'So they rode into the thickest of the press, and smote so hard bothwith spear and sword that the Knights of the Round Table fell back. 'Omercy!' cried Sir Gawaine, 'what Knight is that yonder who does suchmarvellous deeds?' 'I know well who it is, ' said King Arthur, 'but I will not tell youyet. ' 'Sir, ' answered Sir Gawaine, 'I should say it was Sir Lancelot by theblows he deals and the manner that he rides, but it cannot be he, forthis man has a red sleeve upon his helmet, and Sir Lancelot hasnever borne the token of any lady. ' [Illustration: ELAINE TIES HER SLEEVE ROUND SIR LANCELOT'S HELMET] 'Let him be, ' said Sir Arthur, 'you will find out his name, and seehim do greater deeds yet, before he departs. ' And the Knights thatwere fighting against the King's party took heart again, for beforethey feared they would be beaten. But when Sir Bors saw this, hecalled unto him the Knights that were of kin to Sir Lancelot, and theybanded together to make a great charge, and threw Sir Lancelot's horseto the ground, and by misfortune the spear of Sir Bors broke, and itshead was left in Sir Lancelot's side. When Sir Lavaine saw that, heunhorsed the King of Scots, and brought his horse to Sir Lancelot, andhelped him mount thereon and gave him a spear, with which Sir Lancelotsmote Sir Bors to the earth and Sir Ector de Maris, the foster-fatherof King Arthur, and buffeted sorely the Knights that were with them. Afterward he hurled himself into the thick _mêlée_ of them all, anddid the most wonderful deeds that ever were heard of. And Sir Lavainelikewise did well that day, for he smote down full two Knights of theRound Table. 'Mercy, ' again cried Sir Gawaine to Arthur, 'I marvelwhat Knight that is with the red sleeve. ' 'That you shall know soon, ' said King Arthur, and commanded that thetrumpets should be blown, and declared that the prize belonged to theKnight with the white shield, who bare the red sleeve, for he hadunhorsed more than thirty Knights. And the Kings and Lords who were ofhis party came round him and thanked him for the help he had giventhem, by which means the honours of the day had been theirs. 'Fair Lords, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'if I have deserved thanks, I havepaid for them sorely, for I shall hardly escape with my life, therefore I pray you let me depart, for my hurt is grievous. ' Then hegroaned piteously, and galloped from them to a wood's side, followedby Sir Lavaine. 'Oh help me, Sir Lavaine, ' said he, 'to get thisspear's head out of my side, for it is killing me. ' But Sir Lavainefeared to touch it, lest Sir Lancelot should bleed to death. 'I chargeyou, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'if you love me draw out the head, ' so SirLavaine drew it out. And Sir Lancelot gave a great shriek, and amarvellous grisly groan, and his blood flowed out so fast, that hefell into a swoon. 'Oh what shall I do?' cried Sir Lavaine, and heloosed Sir Lancelot's helm and coat of mail, and turned him so thatthe wind might blow on him, but for full half an hour he lay as if hehad been dead. And at last Sir Lancelot opened his eyes, and said, 'OLavaine, help me on my horse, for two miles from this place therelives a hermit who once was a Knight of the Round Table, and he canheal my wounds. ' Then Sir Lavaine, with much ado, helped him on hishorse, and brought him bleeding to the hermit. The hermit looked athim as he rode up, leaning piteously on his saddle-bow, and he thoughtthat he should know him, but could not tell who he was for thepaleness of his face, till he saw by a wound on his cheek that it wasSir Lancelot. 'You cannot hide your name from me, ' said the hermit, 'for you are thenoblest Knight in the world, and well I know you to be Sir Lancelot. ' 'Since you know me, Sir, ' said he, 'help me for God's sake, and fordeath or life put me out of this pain. ' 'Fear nothing, ' answered the hermit, 'your pain will soon be gone, 'and he called his servants to take the armour off the Knight, and laidhim in bed. After that he dressed the wound, and gave him good wine todrink, and Sir Lancelot slept and awoke free of his pain. So we willleave him to be healed of his wound, under the care of the hermit, andgo back to King Arthur. Now it was the custom in those days that after a tourney was finished, a great feast should be held at which both parties were assembled, soKing Arthur sent to ask the King of Northgalis, where was the Knightwith the red sleeve, who had fought on his side. 'Bring him beforeme, ' he said, 'that he may have the prize he has won, which is hisright. ' Then answered the King with the hundred Knights, 'we fear theKnight must have been sore hurt, and that neither you nor we are everlike to see him again, which is grievous to think of. ' 'Alas!' said King Arthur, 'is he then so badly wounded? What is hisname?' 'Truly, ' said they all, 'we know not his name, nor whence he came, norwhither he went. ' 'As for me, ' answered King Arthur, 'these tidings are the worst that Ihave heard these seven years, for I would give all the lands I holdthat no harm had befallen this Knight. ' 'Do you know him?' asked they all. 'Whether I know him or not, ' said King Arthur, 'I shall not tell you, but may Heaven send me good news of him. ' 'Amen, ' answered they. 'By my head, ' said Sir Gawaine, 'if this good Knight is really woundedunto death, it is a great evil for all this land, for he is one of thenoblest that ever I saw for handling a sword or spear. And if he maybe found, I shall find him, for I am sure he is not far from thistown, ' so he took his Squire with him, and they rode all roundCamelot, six or seven miles on every side, but nothing could they hearof him. And he returned heavily to the Court of King Arthur. Two days after the King and all his company set out for London, and bythe way, it happened to Sir Gawaine to lodge with Sir Bernard atAstolat. And when he was in his chamber, Sir Bernard and his daughterElaine came unto Sir Gawaine, to ask him tidings of the Court, and whodid best in the tourney at Winchester. 'Truly, ' said Sir Gawaine, 'there were two Knights that bare whiteshields, but one of them had a red sleeve upon his helm, and he wasone of the best Knights that ever I saw joust in the field, for I daresay he smote down forty Knights of the Table Round. ' 'Now blessed be God, ' said the Maid of Astolat, 'that that Knight spedso well, for he is the man in the world that I loved first, and hewill also be the last that ever I shall love. ' 'Fair Maid, ' asked Sir Gawaine, 'is that Knight your love?' 'Certainly he is my love, ' said she. 'Then you know his name?' asked Sir Gawaine. 'Nay, truly, ' answered the damsel, 'I know neither his name, norwhence he cometh, but I love him for all that. ' 'How did you meet him first?' asked Sir Gawaine. At that she told himthe whole story, and how her brother went with Sir Lancelot to do himservice, and lent him the white shield of her brother Sir Tirre andleft his own shield with her. 'Why did he do that?' asked Sir Gawaine. 'For this cause, ' said the damsel, 'his shield was too well knownamong many noble Knights. ' 'Ah, fair damsel, ' said Sir Gawaine, 'I beg of you to let me have asight of that shield. ' 'Sir, ' answered she, 'it is in my chamber covered with a case, and ifyou will come with me, you shall see it. ' 'Not so, ' said Sir Bernard, and sent his Squire for it. And when SirGawaine took off the case and beheld the shield, and saw the arms, heknew it to be Sir Lancelot's. 'Ah mercy, ' cried he, 'my heart isheavier than ever it was before!' 'Why?' asked Elaine. 'I have great cause, ' answered Sir Gawaine. 'Is that Knight who ownsthis shield your love?' 'Yes, truly, ' said she; 'I would I were his love. ' 'You are right, fair damsel, ' replied Gawaine, 'for if you love him, you love the most honourable Knight in the world. I have known him forfour-and-twenty years, and never did I or any other Knight see himwear a token of either lady or damsel at a tournament. Therefore, damsel, he has paid you great honour. But I fear that I may neverbehold him again upon earth, and that is grievous to think of. ' 'Alas!' she said, 'how may this be? Is he slain?' 'I did not say that, ' replied Sir Gawaine, 'but he is sorely wounded, and is more likely to be dead than alive. And, maiden, by this shieldI know that he is Sir Lancelot. ' 'How can this be?' said the Maid of Astolat, 'and what was his hurt?' 'Truly, ' answered Sir Gawaine, 'it was the man that loved him best whohurt him so, and I am sure that if that man knew that it was SirLancelot whom he had wounded, he would think it was the darkest deedthat ever he did. ' 'Now, dear father, ' said Elaine, 'give me leave to ride and to seekhim, for I shall go out of my mind unless I find him and my brother. ' 'Do as you will, ' answered her father, 'for I am grieved to hear ofthe hurt of that noble Knight. ' So the damsel made ready. On the morn Sir Gawaine came to King Arthur and told him how he hadfound the shield in the keeping of the Maid of Astolat. 'All that Iknew beforehand, ' said the King, 'and that was why I would not sufferyou to fight at the tourney, for I had espied him when he entered hislodging the night before. But this is the first time that ever I heardof his bearing the token of some lady, and much I marvel at it. ' 'By my head, ' answered Sir Gawaine, 'the Fair Maiden of Astolat loveshim wondrous well. What it all means, or what will be the end, Icannot say, but she has ridden after him to seek him. ' So the King andhis company came to London, and everyone in the Court knew that it wasSir Lancelot who had jousted the best. And when the tidings came to Sir Bors, his heart grew heavy, and alsothe hearts of his kinsmen. But when the Queen heard that Sir Lancelotbore the red sleeve of the Fair Maid of Astolat, she was nearly madwith wrath and summoned Sir Bors before her in haste. 'Ah, Sir Bors, ' she cried when he was come, 'have the tidings reachedyou that Sir Lancelot has been a false Knight to me?' 'Madam, ' answered Sir Bors, 'I pray you say not so, for I cannot hearsuch language of him. ' 'Why, is he not false and a traitor when, after swearing that forright or wrong he would be my Knight and mine only, he bore the redsleeve upon his helm at the great jousts at Camelot?' 'Madam, ' said Sir Bors, 'I grieve bitterly as to that sleeve-bearing, but I think he did it that none of his kin should know him. For no manbefore that had seen him bear the token of any lady, be she what shemay. ' 'Fie on him!' said the Queen, 'I myself heard Sir Gawaine tell my lordArthur of the great love that is between the Fair Maiden of Astolatand him. ' 'Madam, ' answered Sir Bors, 'I cannot hinder Sir Gawaine from sayingwhat he pleases, but as for Sir Lancelot, I am sure that he loves noone lady or maiden better than another. And therefore I will hasten toseek him wherever he be. ' Meanwhile fair Elaine came to Winchester to find Sir Lancelot, who layin peril of his life in the hermit's dwelling. And when she was ridinghither and thither, not knowing where she should turn, she fell on herbrother Sir Lavaine, who was exercising his horse. 'How doth my lordSir Lancelot?' asked she. 'Who told you, sister, that my lord's name was Sir Lancelot?' answeredSir Lavaine. 'Sir Gawaine, who came to my father's house to rest after the tourney, knew him by his shield, ' said she, and they rode on till they reachedthe hermitage, and Sir Lavaine brought her to Sir Lancelot. And whenshe saw him so pale, and in such a plight, she fell to the earth in aswoon, but by-and-bye she opened her eyes and said, 'My lord SirLancelot, what has brought you to this?' and swooned again. When shecame to herself and stood up, Sir Lancelot prayed her to be of goodcheer, for if she had come to comfort him she was right welcome, andthat his wound would soon heal. 'But I marvel, ' said he, 'how you knowmy name. ' Then the maiden told him how Sir Gawaine had been at Astolatand had seen his shield. 'Alas!' sighed Sir Lancelot, 'it grieves me that my name is known, fortrouble will come of it. ' For he knew full well that Sir Gawaine wouldtell Queen Guenevere, and that she would be wroth. And Elaine stayedand tended him, and Sir Lancelot begged Sir Lavaine to ride toWinchester and ask if Sir Bors was there, and said that he should knowhim by token of a wound which Sir Bors had on his forehead. 'For wellI am sure, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'that Sir Bors will seek me, as he isthe same good Knight that hurt me. ' Therefore as Sir Lancelot commanded, Sir Lavaine rode to Winchesterand inquired if Sir Bors had been seen there, so that when he enteredthe town Sir Lavaine readily found him. Sir Bors was overjoyed to heargood tidings of Sir Lancelot, and they rode back together to thehermitage. At the sight of Sir Lancelot lying in his bed, pale andthin, Sir Bors' heart gave way, and he wept long without speaking. 'Oh, my lord Sir Lancelot, ' he said at last, 'God send you hastyrecovery; great is my shame for having wounded you thus, you who arethe noblest Knight in the world. I wonder that my arm would liftitself against you, and I ask your mercy. ' 'Fair cousin, ' answered Sir Lancelot, 'such words please me not atall, for it is the fault of my pride which would overcome you all, that I lie here to-day. We will not speak of it any more, for what isdone cannot be undone, but let us find a cure so that I may soon bewhole. ' Then Sir Bors leaned upon his bed, and told him how the Queenwas filled with anger against him, because he wore the red sleeve atthe jousts. 'I am sorrowful at what you tell me, ' replied Sir Lancelot, 'for all Idid was to hinder my being known. ' 'That I said to excuse you, ' answered Sir Bors, 'though it was all invain. But is this damsel that is so busy about you the Fair Maid ofAstolat?' 'She it is, and she will not go from me!' 'Why should she go from you?' asked Sir Bors. 'She is a passing fairdamsel, and of gentle breeding, and I would that you could love her, for it is easy to see by her bearing that she loves you entirely. ' 'It grieves me to hear that, ' said Sir Lancelot. After this they talked of other things, till in a few days SirLancelot's wounds were whole again. When Sir Lancelot felt hisstrength return, Sir Bors made him ready, and departed for the Courtof King Arthur, and told them how he had left Sir Lancelot. And therewas on All Hallows a great tournament, and Sir Bors won the prize forthe unhorsing of twenty Knights, and Sir Gareth did great deeds also, but vanished suddenly from the field, and no man knew where he hadgone. After the tourney was over, Sir Bors rode to the hermitage tosee Sir Lancelot, whom he found walking on his feet, and on the nextmorning they bade farewell to the hermit, taking with them Elaine leBlanc. They went first to Astolat, where they were well lodged in thehouse of Sir Bernard, but when the morrow came, and Sir Lancelot wouldhave departed from them, Elaine called to her father and to herbrothers Sir Tirre and Sir Lavaine, and thus she said: 'My lord Sir Lancelot, fair Knight, leave me not, I pray you, but havemercy upon me, and suffer me not to die of love of thee. ' 'What do you wish me to do?' asked Sir Lancelot. 'I would have you for my husband, ' answered she. 'Fair damsel, I thank you, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'but truly I shallnever have a wife. But in token and thanks of all your good willtowards me, gladly will I give a thousand pounds yearly when you setyour heart upon some other Knight. ' 'Of such gifts I will have none, ' answered Elaine, 'and I would haveyou know, Sir Lancelot, that if you refuse to wed me, my good days aredone. ' 'Fair damsel, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'I cannot do the thing that youask. ' At these words she fell down in a swoon, and her maids bore her to herchamber, where she made bitter sorrow. Sir Lancelot thought it wouldbe well for him to depart before she came to her senses again, and heasked Sir Lavaine what he would do. 'What should I do?' asked Sir Lavaine, 'but follow you if you willhave me. ' Then Sir Bernard came and said to Sir Lancelot, 'I see wellthat my daughter Elaine will die for your sake. ' 'I cannot marry her, ' answered Sir Lancelot, 'and it grieves mesorely, for she is a good maiden, fair and gentle. ' 'Father, ' said Sir Lavaine, 'she is as pure and good as Sir Lancelothas said, and she is like me, for since first I saw him I can neverleave him. ' And after that they bade the old man farewell and cameunto Winchester, where the King and all the Knights of the Round Tablemade great joy of him, save only Sir Agrawaine and Sir Mordred. Butthe Queen was angry and would not speak to him, though he tried by allmeans to make her. Now when the Fair Maid of Astolat knew he was gone, she would neither eat nor sleep, but cried after Sir Lancelot all theday long. And when she had spent ten days in this manner, she grew soweak that they thought her soul must quit this world, and the priestcame to her, and bade her dwell no more on earthly things. She wouldnot listen to him, but cried ever after Sir Lancelot, and how she hadloved none other, no, nor ever would, and that her love would be herdeath. Then she called her father Sir Bernard, and her brother SirTirre, and begged her brother to write her a letter as she should tellhim, and her father that he would have her watched till she was dead. 'And while my body is warm, ' said she, 'let this letter be put in myright hand, and my hand bound fast with the letter until I be cold, and let me be dressed in my richest clothes and be lain on a fair bed, and driven in a chariot to the Thames. There let me be put on a barge, and a dumb man with me, to steer the barge, which shall be coveredover with black samite. Thus, father, I beseech you, let it be done. 'And her father promised her faithfully that so it should be done toher when she was dead. Next day she died, and her body was lain on thebed, and placed in a chariot, and driven to the Thames, where the manawaited her with the barge. When she was put on board, he steered thebarge to Westminster and rowed a great while to and fro, before anyespied it. At last King Arthur and Queen Guenevere withdrew into awindow to speak together, and espied the black barge and wonderedgreatly what it meant. The King summoned Sir Kay, and bade him takeSir Brandiles and Sir Agrawaine, and find out who was lying there, andthey ran down to the river side, and came and told the King. 'Thatfair corpse will I see, ' returned the King, and he took the Queen'shand and led her thither. Then he ordered the barge to be made fast, and he entered it, and the Queen likewise, and certain Knights withthem. And there he saw a fair woman on a rich bed, and her clothingwas of cloth of gold, and she lay smiling. While they looked, allbeing silent, the Queen spied a letter in her right hand, and pointedit out to the King, who took it saying, 'Now I am sure this letterwill tell us what she was, and why she came hither. ' So leaving thebarge in charge of a trusty man, they went into the King's chamber, followed by many Knights, for the King would have the letter readopenly. He then broke the seal himself, and bade a clerk read it, andthis was what it said: 'Most noble Knight Sir Lancelot, I was your lover, whom men called theFair Maid of Astolat: therefore unto all ladies I make my moan; yetpray for my soul, and bury me. This is my last request. Pray for mysoul, Sir Lancelot, as thou art peerless. ' [Illustration: THE BLACK BARGET] This was all the letter, and the King and Queen and all the Knightswept when they heard it. 'Let Sir Lancelot be sent for, ' presently said the King, and when SirLancelot came the letter was read to him also. 'My lord Arthur, ' said he, after he had heard it all, 'I am rightgrieved at the death of this damsel. God knows I was not, of my ownwill, guilty of her death, and that I will call on her brother, SirLavaine, to witness. She was both fair and good, and much was Ibeholden to her, but she loved me out of measure. ' 'You might have been a little gentle with her, ' answered the Queen, 'and have found some way to save her life. ' 'Madam, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'she would have nothing but my love, andthat I could not give her, though I offered her a thousand poundsyearly if she should set her heart on any other Knight. For, Madam, Ilove not to be forced to love; love must arise of itself, and not bycommand. ' 'That is truth, ' replied the King, 'love is free in himself, and neverwill be bounden; for where he is bounden he looseth himself. But, SirLancelot, be it your care to see that the damsel is buried as isfitting. ' _LANCELOT AND GUENEVERE_ Now we come to the sorrowful tale of Lancelot and Guenevere, and ofthe death of King Arthur. Already it has been told that King Arthurhad wedded Guenevere, the daughter of Leodegrance, King of Cornwall, adamsel who seemed made of all the flowers, so fair was she, andslender, and brilliant to look upon. And the Knights in her father'sCourt bowed down before her, and smote their hardest in the joustswhere Guenevere was present, but none dared ask her in marriage tillArthur came. Like the rest he saw and loved her, but, unlike them, hewas a King, and might lift his eyes even unto Guenevere. The maidenherself scarcely saw or spoke to him, but did her father's bidding inall things, and when he desired her to make everything ready to goclothed as beseemed a Princess to King Arthur's Court, her heart beatwith joy at the sight of rich stuffs and shining jewels. Then one daythere rode up to the Castle a band of horsemen sent by the King tobring her to his Court, and at the head of them Sir Lancelot du Lake, friend of King Arthur, and winner of all the jousts and tournamentswhere Knights meet to gain honour. Day by day they rode together apartand he told her tales of gallant deeds done for love of beautifulladies, and they passed under trees gay with the first green ofspring, and over hyacinths covering the earth with sheets of blue, till at sunset they drew rein before the silken pavilion, with thebanner of Uther Pendragon floating on the top. And Guenevere's heartwent out to Lancelot before she knew. One evening she noted, faracross the plain, towers and buildings shining in the sun, and anarray of horsemen ride forth to meet her. One stopped before herdazzled eyes, and leaping from his horse bowed low. Arthur had come towelcome her, and do her honour, and to lead her home. But looking upat him, she thought him cold, and, timid and alone, her thoughtsturned again to Lancelot. After that the days and years slipped by, and these two were ever nearest the King, and in every time of dangerthe King cried for Lancelot, and trusted his honour and the Queen's tohim. Sir Lancelot spoke truly when he told Elaine that he had neverworn the badge of lady or maiden, but for all that every one looked onSir Lancelot as the Queen's Knight, who could do no worship to anyother woman. The King likewise held Sir Lancelot bound to fight theQueen's battles, and if he was absent on adventures of his own, messengers hastened to bring him back, as in the fight with Sir Mador. So things went on for many years, and the King never guessed that theQueen loved Lancelot best. [Illustration: LANCELOT BRINGS GUENEVERE TO ARTHUR] It befell one spring, in the month of May, that Queen Gueneverebethought herself that she would like to go a-maying in the woods andfields that lay round the City of Westminster on both sides of theriver. To this intent she called her own especial Knights, and badethem be ready the next morning clothed all in green, whether of silkor cloth, 'and, ' said she, 'I shall bring with me ten ladies, andevery Knight shall have a lady behind him, and be followed by a Squireand two yeomen, and I will that you shall all be well horsed. ' Thus itwas done, and the ten Knights, arrayed in fresh green, the emblem ofthe spring, rode with the Queen and her ladies in the early dawn, andsmelt the sweet of the year, and gathered flowers which they stuck intheir girdles and doublets. The Queen was as happy and light of heartas the youngest maiden, but she had promised to be with the King atthe hour of ten, and gave the signal for departure unwillingly. TheKnights were mounting their horses, when suddenly out of a wood on theother side rode Sir Meliagraunce, who for many years had loved theQueen, and had sought an occasion to carry her off, but found none sofair as this. Out of the forest he rode, with two score men in armour, and a hundred archers behind him, and bade the Queen and her followersstay where they were, or they would fare badly. 'Traitor, ' cried theQueen, 'what evil deed would you do? You are a King's son and a Knightof the Round Table, yet you seek to shame the man who gave youknighthood. But I tell you that you may bring dishonour on yourself, but you will bring none on me, for rather would I cut my throat intwain. ' 'As for your threats, Madam, I pay them no heed, ' returned SirMeliagraunce; 'I have loved you many a year, and never could I get youat such an advantage as I do now, and therefore I will take you as Ifind you. ' Then all the Knights spoke together saying, 'SirMeliagraunce, bethink yourself that in attacking men who are unarmedyou put not only our lives in peril but your own honour. Rather thanallow the Queen to be shamed we will each one fight to the death, andif we did aught else we should dishonour our knighthood for ever. ' 'Fight as well as you can, ' answered Sir Meliagraunce, 'and keep theQueen if you may. ' So the Knights of the Round Table drew theirswords, and the men of Sir Meliagraunce ran at them with spears; butthe Knights stood fast, and clove the spears in two before theytouched them. Then both sides fought with swords, and Sir Kay and fiveother Knights were felled to the ground with wounds all over theirbodies. The other four fought long, and slew forty of the men andarchers of Sir Meliagraunce; but in the end they too were overcome. When the Queen saw that she cried out for pity and sorrow, 'SirMeliagraunce, spare my noble Knights and I will go with you quietlyon this condition, that their lives be saved, and that wherever youmay carry me they shall follow. For I give you warning that I wouldrather slay myself than go with you without my Knights, whose duty itis to guard me. ' 'Madam, ' replied Sir Meliagraunce, 'for your sake they shall be ledwith you into my own castle, if you will consent to ride with me. ' Sothe Queen prayed the four Knights to fight no more, and she and theywould not part, and to this, though their hearts were heavy, theyagreed. The fight being ended the wounded Knights were placed on horseback, some sitting, some lying across the saddle, according as they werehurt, and Sir Meliagraunce forbade anyone to leave the castle (whichhad been a gift to him from King Arthur), for sore he dreaded thevengeance of Sir Lancelot if this thing should reach his ears. But theQueen knew well what was passing in his mind, and she called a littlepage who served her in her chamber and desired him to take her ringand hasten with all speed to Sir Lancelot, 'and pray him, if he lovesme, to rescue me. Spare not your horse, neither for water nor forland. ' And the boy bided his time, then mounted his horse, and rodeaway as fast as he might. Sir Meliagraunce spied him as he flew, andknew whither he went, and who had sent him; and he commanded his bestarchers to ride after him and shoot him ere he reached Sir Lancelot. But the boy escaped their arrows, and vanished from their sight. ThenSir Meliagraunce said to the Queen, 'You seek to betray me, Madam; butSir Lancelot shall not so lightly come at you. ' And he bade his menfollow him to the castle in haste, and left an ambush of thirtyarchers in the road, charging them that if a Knight mounted on a whitehorse came along that way they were to slay the horse but to leave theman alone, as he was hard to overcome. After Sir Meliagraunce hadgiven these orders his company galloped fast to the castle; but theQueen would listen to nothing that he said, demanding always that herKnights and ladies should be lodged with her, and Sir Meliagraunce wasforced to let her have her will. [Illustration: GUENEVERE SENDS HER PAGE TO LANCELOT FOR HELP] The castle of Sir Meliagraunce was distant seven miles fromWestminster, so it did not take long for the boy to find Sir Lancelot, and to give him the Queen's ring and her message. 'I am shamed forever, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'unless I can rescue that noble lady, ' andwhile he put on his armour, he called to the boy to tell him the wholeadventure. When he was armed and mounted, he begged the page to warnSir Lavaine where he had gone, and for what cause. 'And pray him, ashe loves me, that he follow me to the castle of Sir Meliagraunce, forif I am a living man, he will find me there. ' Sir Lancelot put his horse into the water at Westminster, and he swamstraight over to Lambeth, and soon after he landed he found traces ofthe fight. He rode along the track till he came to the wood, where thearchers were lying waiting for him, and when they saw him, they badehim on peril of his life to go no further along that path. 'Why should I, who am a Knight of the Round Table, turn out of anypath that pleases me?' asked Sir Lancelot. 'Either you will leave this path or your horse will be slain, 'answered the archers. 'You may slay my horse if you will, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'but when myhorse is slain I shall fight you on foot, and so would I do, if therewere five hundred more of you. ' With that they smote the horse withtheir arrows, but Sir Lancelot jumped off, and ran into the wood, andthey could not catch him. He went on some way, but the ground wasrough, and his armour was heavy, and sore he dreaded the treason ofSir Meliagraunce. His heart was near to fail him, when there passed bya cart with two carters that came to fetch wood. 'Tell me, carter, 'asked Sir Lancelot, 'what will you take to suffer me to go in yourcart till we are within two miles of the castle of Sir Meliagraunce?' 'I cannot take you at all, ' answered the carter, 'for I am come tofetch wood for my lord Sir Meliagraunce. ' 'It is with him that I would speak. ' 'You shall not go with me, ' said the carter, but hardly had he utteredthe words when Sir Lancelot leapt up into the cart, and gave him sucha buffet that he fell dead on the ground. At this sight the othercarter cried that he would take the Knight where he would if he wouldonly spare his life. 'Then I charge you, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'that youbring me to the castle gate. ' So the carter drove at a great gallop, and Sir Lancelot's horse, who had espied his master, followed thecart, though more than fifty arrows were standing in his body. In anhour and a half they reached the castle gate, and were seen ofGuenevere and her ladies, who were standing in a window. 'Look, Madam, ' cried one of her ladies, 'in that cart yonder is a goodlyarmed Knight. I suppose he is going to his hanging. ' 'Where?' asked the Queen, and as she spoke she espied that it was SirLancelot, and that his horse was following riderless. 'Well is he thathas a trusty friend, ' said she, 'for a noble Knight is hard pressedwhen he rides in a cart, ' and she rebuked the lady who had declared hewas going to his hanging. 'It was foul talking, to liken the noblestKnight in the world to one going to a shameful death. ' By this SirLancelot had come to the gate of the castle, and he got down andcalled till the castle rang with his voice. 'Where is that falsetraitor Sir Meliagraunce, Knight of the Round Table? Come forth, youand your company, for I, Sir Lancelot du Lake, am here to do battlewith you. ' Then he burst the gate open wide, and smote the porter whotried to hold it against him. When Sir Meliagraunce heard SirLancelot's voice, he ran into Queen Guenevere's chamber, and fell onhis knees before her: 'Mercy, Madam, mercy! I throw myself upon yourgrace. ' 'What ails you now?' said she; 'of a truth I might well expect somegood Knight to avenge me, though my lord Arthur knew not of yourwork. ' [Illustration: THE ARCHERS THREATEN LANCELOT] 'Madam, I will make such amends as you yourself may desire, ' pleadedSir Meliagraunce, 'and I trust wholly to your grace. ' 'What would you have me do?' asked the Queen. 'Rule in this castle as if it were your own, and give Sir Lancelotcheer till to-morrow, and then you shall all return to Westminster. ' 'You say well, ' answered the Queen. 'Peace is ever better than war, and I take no pleasure in fighting. ' So she went down with her ladiesto Sir Lancelot, who still stood full of rage in the inner court, calling as before, 'Traitor Knight, come forth!' 'Sir Lancelot, ' asked the Queen, 'what is the cause of all thiswrath?' 'Madam, ' replied Sir Lancelot, 'does such a question come from you?Methinks your wrath should be greater than mine, for all the hurt andthe dishonour have fallen upon you. My own hurt is but little, but theshame is worse than any hurt. ' 'You say truly, ' replied the Queen, 'but you must come in with mepeaceably, as all is put into my hand, and the Knight repents bitterlyof his adventure. ' 'Madam, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'since you have made agreement with him, it is not my part to say nay, although Sir Meliagraunce has bornehimself both shamefully and cowardly towards me. But had I known youwould have pardoned him so soon, I should not have made such haste tocome to you. ' 'Why do you say that?' asked the Queen; 'do you repent yourself ofyour good deeds? I only made peace with him to have done with all thisnoise of slanderous talk, and for the sake of my Knights. ' 'Madam, ' answered Sir Lancelot, 'you understand full well that I wasnever glad of slander nor noise, but there is neither King, Queen norKnight alive, save yourself, Madam, and my lord Arthur, that shouldhinder me from giving Sir Meliagraunce a cold heart before I departedhence. ' 'That I know well, ' said the Queen, 'but what would you have more?Everything shall be ordered as you will. ' 'Madam, ' replied Sir Lancelot, 'as long as you are pleased, that isall I care for, ' so the Queen led Sir Lancelot into her chamber, andcommanded him to take off his armour, and then took him to where herten Knights were lying sore wounded. And their souls leapt with joywhen they saw him, and he told them how falsely Sir Meliagraunce haddealt with him, and had set archers to slay his horse, so that he wasfain to place himself in a cart. Thus they complained each to theother, and would have avenged themselves on Sir Meliagraunce but forthe peace made by the Queen. And in the evening came Sir Lavaine, riding in great haste, and Sir Lancelot was glad that he was come. Now Sir Lancelot was right when he feared to trust Sir Meliagraunce, for that Knight only sought to work ill both to him and to the Queen, for all his fair words. And first he began to speak evil of the Queento Sir Lancelot, who dared him to prove his foul words, and it wassettled between them that a combat should take place in eight days inthe field, near Westminster. 'And now, ' said Sir Meliagraunce, 'sinceit is decided that we must fight together, I beseech you, as you are anoble Knight, do me no treason nor villainy in the meantime. ' 'Any Knight will bear me witness, ' answered Sir Lancelot, 'that neverhave I broken faith with any man, nor borne fellowship with those thathave done so. ' 'Then let us go to dinner, ' said Sir Meliagraunce, 'andafterwards you may all ride to Westminster. Meanwhile would it pleaseyou to see the inside of this castle?' 'That I will gladly, ' said SirLancelot, and they went from chamber to chamber, till they reached thefloor of the castle, and as he went Sir Lancelot trod on a trap, andthe board rolled, and he fell down in a cave which was filled withstraw, and Sir Meliagraunce departed and no man knew where SirLancelot might be. The Queen bethought herself that he was wont todisappear suddenly, and as Sir Meliagraunce had first removed SirLavaine's horse from the place where it had been tethered, the Knightsagreed with her. So time passed till dinner had been eaten, and thenSir Lavaine demanded litters for the wounded Knights, that they mightbe carried to Westminster with as little hurt as might be. And theQueen and her ladies followed. When they arrived, the Knights told oftheir adventure, and how Sir Meliagraunce had accused the Queen oftreason, and how he and Sir Lancelot were to fight for her good namein eight days. 'Sir Meliagraunce has taken a great deal upon him, ' said the King, 'but where is Sir Lancelot?' 'Sir, ' answered they all, 'we know not, but we think he has ridden tosome adventure. ' 'Well, leave him alone, ' said the King. 'He will behere when the day comes, unless some treason has befallen him. ' All this while Sir Lancelot was lying in great pain within the cave, and he would have died for lack of food had not one of the ladies inthe castle found out the place where he was held captive, and broughthim meat and drink, and hoped that he might be brought to love her. But he would not. 'Sir Lancelot, ' said she, 'you are not wise, forwithout my help you will never get out of this prison, and if you donot appear on the day of battle, your lady, Queen Guenevere, will beburnt in default. ' 'If I am not there, ' replied Sir Lancelot, 'theKing and the Queen and all men of worship will know that I am eitherdead or in prison. And sure I am that there is some good Knight wholoves me or is of my kin, that will take my quarrel in hand, thereforeyou cannot frighten me by such words as these. If there was notanother woman in the world, I could give you no different answer. ''Then you will be shamed openly, ' replied the lady, and left thedungeon. But on the day that the battle was to be fought she cameagain, and said, 'Sir Lancelot, if you will only kiss me once, I willdeliver you, and give you the best horse in Sir Meliagraunce'sstable. ' 'Yes, I will kiss you, ' answered Sir Lancelot, 'since I maydo that honourably; but if I thought it were any shame to kiss you, Iwould not do it, whatever the cost. ' So he kissed her, and she broughthim his armour, and led him to a stable where twelve noble horsesstood, and bade him choose the best. He chose a white courser, andbade the keepers put on the best saddle they had, and with his spearin his hand and his sword by his side, he rode away, thanking the ladyfor all she had done for him, which some day he would try to repay. As the hours passed on and Sir Lancelot did not come, Sir Meliagrauncecalled ever on King Arthur to burn the Queen, or else bring forth SirLancelot, for he deemed full well that he had Sir Lancelot safe in hisdungeon. The King and Queen were sore distressed that Sir Lancelot wasmissing, and knew not where to look for him, and what to do. Thenstepped forth Sir Lavaine and said, 'My lord Arthur, you know wellthat some ill-fortune has happened to Sir Lancelot, and if he is notdead, he is either sick or in prison. Therefore I beseech you, let medo battle instead of my lord and master for my lady the Queen. ' 'I thank you heartily, gentle Knight, ' answered Arthur, 'for I am surethat Sir Meliagraunce accuses the Queen falsely, and there is not oneof the ten Knights who would not fight for her were it not for hiswounds. So do your best, for it is plain that some evil has beenwrought on Sir Lancelot. ' Sir Lavaine was filled with joy when theKing gave him leave to do battle with Sir Meliagraunce, and rodeswiftly to his place at the end of the lists. And just as the heraldswere about to cry 'Lesses les aler!' Sir Lancelot dashed into themiddle on his white horse. 'Hold and abide!' commanded the King, andSir Lancelot rode up before him, and told before them all how SirMeliagraunce had treated him. When the King and Queen and all theLords heard Sir Lancelot's tale, their hearts stirred within them withanger, and the Queen took her seat by the King, in great trust of herchampion. Sir Lancelot and Sir Meliagraunce prepared themselves forbattle, and took their spears, and came together as thunder, and SirLancelot bore Sir Meliagraunce right over his horse. Then Sir Lancelotjumped down, and they fought on foot, till in the end Sir Meliagrauncewas smitten to the ground by a blow on his head from his enemy. 'Mostnoble Knight, save my life, ' cried he, 'for I yield myself unto you, and put myself into the King's hands and yours. ' Sir Lancelot did notknow what to answer, for he longed above anything in the world to haverevenge upon him; so he looked at the Queen to see whether she wouldgive him any sign of what she would have done. The Queen wagged herhead in answer, and Sir Lancelot knew by that token that she wouldhave him dead, and he understood, and bade Sir Meliagraunce get up, and continue the fight. 'Nay, ' said Sir Meliagraunce, 'I will neverrise till you accept my surrender. ' 'Listen, ' answered Sir Lancelot. 'I will leave my head and left side bare, and my left arm shall bebound behind me, and in this guise I will fight with you. ' At this SirMeliagraunce started to his feet, and cried, 'My lord Arthur, takeheed to this offer, for I will take it, therefore let him be bound andunarmed as he has said. ' So the Knights disarmed Sir Lancelot, firsthis head and then his side, and his left hand was bound behind hisback, in such a manner that he could not use his shield, and full manya Knight and lady marvelled that Sir Lancelot would risk himself so. And Sir Meliagraunce lifted his sword on high and would have smittenSir Lancelot on his bare head, had he not leapt lightly to one side, and, before Sir Meliagraunce could right himself, Sir Lancelot hadstruck him so hard upon his helmet that his skull split in two, andthere was nothing left to do but to carry his dead body from thefield. And because the Knights of the Round Table begged to have himhonourably buried, the King agreed thereto, and on his tomb mentionwas made of how he came by his death, and who slew him. After this SirLancelot was more cherished by the King and Queen than ever he wasbefore. Among the many Knights at Arthur's Court who owned kings for theirfathers were Sir Mordred and Sir Agrawaine, who had for brothers, SirGawaine, Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth. And their mother was Queen ofOrkney, sister to King Arthur. Now Sir Agrawaine and Sir Mordred hadevil natures, and loved both to invent slanders and to repeat them. And at this time they were full of envy of the noble deeds SirLancelot had done, and how men called him the bravest Knight of theTable Round, and said that he was the friend of the King, and thesworn defender of the Queen. So they cast about how they might ruinhim, and found the way by putting jealous thoughts into the mind ofArthur. As was told in the tale of the marriage of Arthur, Queen Guenevere'sheart had gone out to Lancelot, on the journey to the Court, and evershe loved to have him with her. This was known well to Sir Mordred, who watched eagerly for a chance to work her ill. It came one day when Arthur proclaimed a hunt, and Sir Mordred guessedthat Sir Lancelot, who did not love hunting, would stay behind, andwould spend the time holding talk with the Queen. Therefore he went tothe King and began to speak evil of the Queen and Sir Lancelot. Atfirst King Arthur would listen to nothing, but slowly his jealousyburned within him, and he let the ill words that accused the Queen ofloving Sir Lancelot the best, sink into his mind, and told Sir Mordredand Sir Agrawaine that they might do their worst, and he would notmeddle with them. But they let so many of their fellowship into thesecret of their foul plot, that at last it came to the ears of SirBors, who begged Sir Lancelot not to go near the Queen that day, orharm would come of it. But Sir Lancelot answered that the Queen hadsent for him, and that she was his liege lady, and never would he holdback when she summoned him to her presence. Therefore Sir Bors wentheavily away. By ill fortune, Sir Lancelot only wore his sword underhis great mantle, and scarcely had he passed inside the door when SirAgrawaine and Sir Mordred, and twelve other Knights of the TableRound, all armed and ready for battle, cried loudly upon Sir Lancelot, that all the Court might hear. 'Madam, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'is there any armour within your chamberthat I might cover my body withal, for if I was armed as they are Iwould soon crush them?' 'Alas!' replied the Queen, 'I have neither sword nor spear nor armour, and how can you resist them? You will be slain and I shall be burnt. If you could only escape their hands, I know you would deliver me fromdanger. ' 'It is grievous, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'that I who was never conqueredin all my life should be slain for lack of armour. ' 'Traitor Knight, ' cried Sir Mordred again, 'come out and fight us, foryou are so sore beset that you cannot escape us. ' 'Oh, mercy, ' cried Sir Lancelot, 'I may not suffer longer this shameand noise! For better were death at once than to endure this pain. 'Then he took the Queen in his arms and kissed her, and said, 'Mostnoble Christian Queen, I beseech you, as you have ever been my specialgood lady, and I at all times your true poor Knight, and as I neverfailed you in right or in wrong, since the first day that King Arthurmade me Knight, that you will pray for my soul, if I be here slain. For I am well assured that Sir Bors, my nephew, and Sir Lavaine andmany more, will rescue you from the fire, and therefore, mine ownlady, comfort yourself whatever happens to me, and go with Sir Bors, my nephew, and you shall live like a Queen on my lands. ' [Illustration: LANCELOT COMES OUT OF GUENEVERE'S ROOM] 'Nay, Lancelot, ' said the Queen, 'I will never live after your days, but if you are slain I will take my death as meekly as ever did anyChristian Queen. ' 'Well, Madam, ' answered Lancelot, 'since it is so I shall sell my lifeas dear as I may, and a thousandfold I am more heavy for you than formyself. ' Therewith Sir Lancelot wrapped his mantle thickly round his arm, andstood beside the door, which the Knights without were trying to breakin by aid of a stout wooden form. 'Fair Lords, ' said Sir Lancelot, 'leave this noise, and I will openthe door, and you may do with me what you will. ' 'Open it then, ' answered they, 'for well you know you cannot escapeus, and we will save your life and bring you before King Arthur. ' SoSir Lancelot opened the door and held it with his left hand, so thatbut one man could come in at once. Then came forward a strong Knight, Sir Colgrevance of Gore, who struck fiercely at Lancelot with hissword. But Sir Lancelot stepped on one side, that the blow fellharmless, and with his arm he gave Sir Colgrevance a buffet on thehead so that he fell dead. And Sir Lancelot drew him into the chamber, and barred the door. Hastily he unbuckled the dead Knight's armour, and the Queen and herladies put it on him, Sir Agrawaine and Sir Mordred ever calling tohim the while, 'Traitor Knight, come out of that chamber!' But SirLancelot cried to them all to go away and he would appear next morningbefore the King, and they should accuse him of what they would, and hewould answer them, and prove his words in battle. 'Fie on you, traitor, ' said Sir Agrawaine, 'we have you in our power, to save or toslay, for King Arthur will listen to our words, and will believe whatwe tell him. ' 'As you like, ' answered Sir Lancelot, 'look to yourself, ' and he flungopen the chamber door, and strode in amongst them and killed SirAgrawaine with his first blow, and in a few minutes the bodies of theother twelve Knights lay on the ground beside his, for no man everwithstood that buffet of Sir Lancelot's. He wounded Sir Mordred also, so that he fled away with all his might. When the clamour of thebattle was still, Sir Lancelot turned back to the Queen and said, 'Alas, Madam, they will make King Arthur my foe, and yours also, butif you will come with me to my castle, I will save you from alldangers. ' 'I will not go with you now, ' answered the Queen, 'but if you seeto-morrow that they will burn me to death, then you may deliver me asyou shall think best. ' 'While I live I will deliver you, ' said Sir Lancelot, and he left herand went back to his lodging. When Sir Bors, who was awaiting him, sawSir Lancelot, he was gladder than he ever had been in his whole lifebefore. 'Mercy!' cried Sir Lancelot, 'why you are all armed!' 'Sir, ' answered Sir Bors, 'after you had left us I and your friendsand your kinsmen were so troubled that we felt some great strife wasat hand, and that perchance some trap had been laid for you. So we puton armour that we might help you whatever need you were in. ' 'Fairnephew, ' said Lancelot, 'but now I have been more hardly beset thanever I was in my life, and yet I escaped, ' and he told them all thathad happened. 'I pray you, my fellows, that you will be of goodcourage and stand by me in my need, for war is come to us all. ' 'Sir, ' answered Sir Bors, 'all is welcome that God sends us, and wehave had much good with you and much fame, so now we will take the badas we have taken the good. ' And so said they all. 'I thank you for your comfort in my great distress, ' replied SirLancelot, 'and you, fair nephew, haste to the Knights which be in thisplace, and find who is with me and who is against me, for I would knowmy friends from my foes. ' 'Sir, ' said Sir Bors, 'before seven of the clock in the morning youshall know. ' By seven o'clock, as Sir Bors had promised, many noble Knights stoodbefore Sir Lancelot, and were sworn to his cause. 'My lords, ' said he, 'you know well that since I came into this country I have givenfaithful service unto my lord King Arthur and unto my lady QueenGuenevere. Last evening my lady, the Queen, sent for me to speak toher, and certain Knights that were lying in wait for me cried"Treason, " and much ado I had to escape their blows. But I slew twelveof them, and Sir Agrawaine, who is Sir Gawaine's brother; and for thiscause I am sure of mortal war, as these Knights were ordered by KingArthur to betray me, and therefore the Queen will be judged to thefire, and I may not suffer that she should be burnt for my sake. ' And Sir Bors answered Sir Lancelot that it was truly his part torescue the Queen, as he had done so often before, and that if she wasburned the shame would be his. Then they all took counsel together howthe thing might best be done, and Sir Bors deemed it wise to carry heroff to the Castle of Joyous Gard, and counselled that she should bekept there, a prisoner, till the King's anger was past and he would bewilling to welcome her back again. To this the other Knights agreed, and by the advice of Sir Lancelot they hid themselves in a wood closeby the town till they saw what King Arthur would do. Meanwhile SirMordred, who had managed to escape the sword of Sir Lancelot, rode, wounded and bleeding, unto King Arthur, and told the King all that hadpassed, and how, of the fourteen Knights, he only was left alive. TheKing grieved sore at his tale, which Sir Mordred had made to sound asill as was possible; for, in spite of all, Arthur loved Sir Lancelot. 'It is a bitter blow, ' he said, 'that Sir Lancelot must be against me, and the fellowship of the Table Round is broken for ever, as many anoble Knight will go with him. And as I am the judge, the Queen willhave to die, as she is the cause of the death of these thirteenKnights. ' 'My lord Arthur, ' said Sir Gawaine, 'be not over-hasty; listen not tothe foul tongue of Sir Mordred, who laid this trap for Sir Lancelot, that we all know to be the Queen's own Knight, who has done battle forher when none else would. As for Sir Lancelot, he will prove the righton the body of any Knight living that shall accuse him ofwrong--either him, or my lady Guenevere. ' 'That I believe well, ' said King Arthur, 'for he trusts so much in hisown might that he fears no man; and never more shall he fight for theQueen, for she must suffer death by the law. Put on, therefore, yourbest armour, and go with your brothers, Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth, and bring the Queen to the fire, there to have her judgment and sufferher death. ' 'Nay, my lord, that I will never do, ' cried Sir Gawaine; 'my heartwill never serve me to see her die, and I will never stand by and seeso noble a lady brought to a shameful end. ' 'Then, ' said the King, 'let your brothers Sir Gaheris and Sir Garethbe there. ' 'My lord, ' replied Sir Gawaine, 'I know well how loth they will be, but they are young and unable to say you nay. ' At this Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth spoke to King Arthur: 'Sir, if youcommand us we will obey, but it will be sore against our will. And ifwe go we shall be dressed as men of peace, and wear no armour. ' 'Make yourselves ready, then, ' answered the King, 'for I would delayno longer in giving judgment. ' 'Alas!' cried Sir Gawaine, 'that I should have lived to see this day';and he turned and wept bitterly, and went into his chamber. So the Queen was led outside the gates, and her rich dress was takenoff, while her lords and ladies wrung their hands in grief, and fewmen wore armour, for in that day it was held that the presence ofmail-clad Knights made death more shameful. Now among those presentwas one sent by Sir Lancelot, and when he saw the Queen's dressunclasped, and the priest step forth to listen to her confession, herode to warn Sir Lancelot that the hour had come. And suddenly therewas heard a sound as of rushing horses, and Sir Lancelot dashed up tothe fire, and all the Knights that stood around were slain, for fewmen wore armour. Sir Lancelot looked not where he struck, and SirGaheris and Sir Gareth were found in the thickest of the throng. Atlast he reached the Queen, and, throwing a mantle over her, he caughther on to his saddle and rode away with her. Right thankful was theQueen at being snatched from the fire, and her heart was grateful toSir Lancelot, who took her to his Castle of Joyous Gard, and manynoble Knights and Kings had fellowship with them. After King Arthur had given judgment for the Queen to die he went backinto his Palace of Westminster, where men came and told him how SirLancelot had delivered her, and of the death of his Knights, and inespecial of Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth, and he swooned away fromsorrow. 'Alas!' he cried, when he recovered from his swoon, 'alas!that a crown was ever on my head, for in these two days I have lostforty Knights and the fellowship of Sir Lancelot and his kinsmen, andnever more will they be of my company. But I charge you that none tellSir Gawaine of the death of his brothers, for I am sure that when hehears of Sir Gareth he will go out of his mind. Oh, why did SirLancelot slay them? for Sir Gareth loved Sir Lancelot more than anyother man. ' 'That is true, ' answered some of the Knights, 'but Sir Lancelot sawnot whom he smote, and therefore were they slain. ' 'The death of those two, ' said Arthur, 'will cause the greatest mortalwar that ever was. I am sure that when Sir Gawaine knows Sir Gareth isslain he will never suffer me to rest till I have destroyed SirLancelot and all his kin, or till they have destroyed me. My heartwas never so heavy as it is now, and far more grievous to me is theloss of my good Knights than of my Queen; for Queens I might have inplenty, but no man had ever such a company of Knights, and it hurts mesore that Sir Lancelot and I should be at war. It is the ill willborne by Sir Agrawaine and Sir Mordred to Sir Lancelot that has causedall this sorrow. ' Then one came to Sir Gawaine and told him that SirLancelot had borne off the Queen, and that twenty-four Knights hadbeen slain in the combat. 'I knew well he would deliver her, ' said SirGawaine, 'and in that, he has but acted as a Knight should and as Iwould have done myself. But where are my brethren? I marvel they havenot been to seek me. ' 'Truly, ' said the man, 'Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth are slain. ' 'Heaven forbid any such thing, ' returned Sir Gawaine. 'I would not forall the world that that had happened, especially to my brother SirGareth. ' 'He is slain, ' said the man, 'and it is grievous news. ' 'Who slew him?' asked Sir Gawaine. 'Sir Lancelot slew them both, ' answered the man. 'He cannot have slain Sir Gareth, ' replied Sir Gawaine, 'for mybrother Gareth loved him better than me and all his brethren, and KingArthur too. And had Sir Lancelot desired my brother to go with him, hewould have turned his back on us all. Therefore I can never believethat Sir Lancelot slew my brother. ' 'Sir, it is in everyone's mouth, ' said the man. At this Sir Gawainefell back in a swoon and lay long as if he were dead. Then he ran tothe King, crying, 'O King Arthur, mine uncle, my good brother SirGareth is slain, and Sir Gaheris also, ' and the King wept with him. Atlength Sir Gawaine said, 'Sir, I will go and see my brother SirGareth. ' 'You cannot do that, ' returned the King, 'for I have caused him to beburied with Sir Gaheris, as I knew well that the sight would cause youovermuch sorrow. ' 'How came he, Sir Lancelot, to slay Sir Gareth?' asked Sir Gawaine;'mine own good lord, I pray you tell me, for neither Sir Gareth norSir Gaheris bore arms against him. ' 'It is said, ' answered the King, 'that Sir Lancelot slew them in thethickest of the press and knew them not. Therefore let us think upon aplan to avenge their deaths. ' 'My King, my lord and mine uncle, ' said Sir Gawaine, 'I swear to youby my knighthood that from this day I will never rest until SirLancelot or I be slain. And I will go to the world's end till I findhim. ' 'You need not seek him so far, ' answered the King, 'for I am told thatSir Lancelot will await me and you in the Castle of Joyous Gard, andmany people are flocking to him. But call your friends together, and Iwill call mine, ' and the King ordered letters to be sent throughoutall England summoning his Knights and vassals to the siege of JoyousGard. The Castle of Joyous Gard was strong, and after fifteen weekshad passed no breach had been made in its walls. And one day, at thetime of harvest, Sir Lancelot came forth on a truce, and the King andSir Gawaine challenged him to do battle. 'Nay, ' answered Sir Lancelot, 'with yourself I will never strive, andI grieve sorely that I have slain your Knights. But I was forced toit, for the saving of my life and that of my lady the Queen. Andexcept yourself, my lord, and Sir Gawaine, there is no man that shallcall me traitor but he shall pay for it with his body. As to QueenGuenevere, oft times, my lord, you have consented in the heat of yourpassion that she should be burnt and destroyed, and it fell to me todo battle for her, and her enemies confessed their untruth, andacknowledged her innocent. And at such times, my lord Arthur, youloved me and thanked me when I saved your Queen from the fire, andpromised ever to be my good lord, for I have fought for her many timesin other quarrels than my own. Therefore, my gracious lord, take yourQueen back into your grace again. ' To these words of Sir Lancelot's, King Arthur answered nothing, but inhis heart he would fain have made peace with Sir Lancelot, but SirGawaine would not let him. He reproached Sir Lancelot bitterly for thedeaths of his brothers and kinsmen, and called Sir Lancelot a cravenand other ill names that he would not fight with King Arthur. So atthe last Sir Lancelot's patience and courtesy failed him, and he toldthem that the next morning he would give them battle. The heart of Sir Gawaine leaped with joy when he heard these words ofSir Lancelot, and he summoned all his friends and his kinsfolk, andbade them watch well Sir Lancelot, and to slay him if a chanceoffered. But he knew not that Sir Lancelot had bidden the Knights ofhis following in no wise to touch King Arthur or Sir Gawaine. And whenthe dawn broke a great host marched out of the Castle of Joyous Gard, with Sir Lancelot at the head, and Sir Bors and Sir Lionel commandingon either side. All that day they fought, and sometimes one armyseemed to be gaining, and sometimes the other. Many times King Arthurdrew near Sir Lancelot, and would have slain him, and Sir Lancelotsuffered him, and would not strike again. But the King was unhorsed bySir Bors, and would have been slain but for Sir Lancelot, who stayedhis hand. 'My lord Arthur, ' he said, 'for God's love stop this strife. I cannot strike you, so you will gain no fame by it, though yourfriends never cease from trying to slay me. My lord, remember what Ihave done in many places and how evil is now my reward. ' Then whenKing Arthur was on his horse again he looked on Sir Lancelot, andtears burst from his eyes, thinking of the great courtesy that was inSir Lancelot more than in any other man. He sighed to himself, sayingsoftly, 'Alas! that ever this war began, ' and rode away, while thebattle ended for that time and the dead were buried. But Sir Gawaine would not suffer the King to make peace, and theyfought on, now in one place, and now in another, till the Pope heardof the strife and sent a noble clerk, the Bishop of Rochester, tocharge the King to make peace with Sir Lancelot, and to take back untohim his Queen, the Lady Guenevere. Now the King, as has been said, would fain have followed the Pope's counsel and have accorded with SirLancelot, but Sir Gawaine would not suffer him. However, as to theQueen Sir Gawaine said nothing; and King Arthur gave audience to theBishop, and swore on his great seal that he would take back the Queenas the Pope desired, and that if Sir Lancelot brought her he shouldcome safe and go safe. So the Bishop rode to Joyous Gard and showedSir Lancelot what the Pope had written and King Arthur had answered, and told him of the perils which would befall him if he withheld theQueen. 'It was never in my thought, ' answered Sir Lancelot, 'towithhold the Queen from King Arthur, but as she would have been deadfor my sake it was my part to save her life, and to keep her fromdanger till better times came. And I thank God that the Pope has madepeace, and I shall be a thousand times gladder to bring her back thanI was to take her away. Therefore ride to the King, and say that ineight days I myself will bring the Lady Guenevere unto him. ' So theBishop departed, and came to the King at Carlisle, and told him whatSir Lancelot had answered, and tears burst from the King's eyes oncemore. A goodly host of a hundred Knights rode eight days later from theCastle of Joyous Gard; every Knight was clothed in green velvet, andheld in his hand a branch of olive, and bestrode a horse withtrappings down to his heels. And behind the Queen were four and twentygentlewomen clad in green likewise, while twelve esquires attended onSir Lancelot. He and the Queen wore dresses of white and gold tissue, and their horses were clothed in housings of the same, set withprecious stones and pearls; and no man had ever gazed on such a noblepair, as they rode from Joyous Gard to Carlisle. When they reached thecastle, Sir Lancelot sprang from his horse and helped the Queen fromhers, and led her to where King Arthur sat, with Sir Gawaine and manylords around him. He kneeled down, and the Queen kneeled with him, andmany Knights wept as though it had been their own kin. But Arthur satstill and said nothing. At that Sir Lancelot rose, and the Queenlikewise, and, looking straight at the King, he spoke: 'Most noble King, I have brought to you my lady the Queen, as rightrequires; and time hath been, my lord Arthur, that you have beengreatly pleased with me when I did battle for my lady your Queen. Andfull well you know that she has been put to great wrong ere this, andit seems to me I had more cause to deliver her from this fire, seeingshe would have been burnt for my sake. ' 'Well, well, Sir Lancelot, ' said the King, 'I have given you no causeto do to me as you have done, for I have held you dearer than any ofmy Knights. ' But Sir Gawaine would not suffer the King to listen toanything Sir Lancelot said, and told him roughly that while one ofthem lived peace could never be made, and desired on behalf of theKing that in fifteen days he should be gone out of the country. Andstill King Arthur said nothing, but suffered Sir Gawaine to talk as hewould; and Sir Lancelot took farewell of him and of the Queen, androde, grieving sorely, out of the Court, and sailed to his landsbeyond the sea. Though the Queen was returned again, and Sir Lancelot was beyond thesea, the hate of Sir Gawaine towards him was in no way set at rest, but he raised a great host and persuaded the King to follow him. Andafter many sieges and long fighting Sir Gawaine did battle with SirLancelot once more, and was worsted, and Sir Lancelot might have slainhim, but would not. While he lay wounded tidings came to King Arthurfrom England that caused the King to give up his war with Sir Lancelotand return in all haste to his own country. _THE END OF IT ALL_ Now when King Arthur left England to fight with Sir Lancelot heordered his nephew Sir Mordred to govern the land, which that falseKnight did gladly. And as soon as he thought he might safely do so hecaused some letters to be written saying that King Arthur had beenslain in battle, and he had himself crowned King at Canterbury, wherehe made a great feast which lasted fifteen days. After it was over, hewent to Winchester and summoned Queen Guenevere, and told her that ona certain day he would wed her and that she should make herself ready. Queen Guenevere's soul grew cold and heavy as she heard these words ofSir Mordred's, for she hated him with all her might, as he hated her;but she dared show nothing, and answered softly that she would do hisbidding, only she desired that first she might go to London to buy allmanner of things for her wedding. Sir Mordred trusted her because ofher fair speech, and let her go. Then the Queen rode to London withall speed, and went straight to the Tower, which she filled in hastewith food, and called her men-at-arms round her. When Sir Mordred knewhow she had beguiled him he was wroth out of measure, and besieged theTower, and assaulted it many times with battering rams and greatengines, but could prevail nothing, for the Queen would never, forfair speech nor for foul, give herself into his hands again. The Bishop of Canterbury hastened unto Sir Mordred, and rebuked himfor wishing to marry his uncle's wife. 'Leave such desires, ' said theBishop, 'or else I shall curse you with bell, book, and candle. Also, you noise abroad that my lord Arthur is slain, and that is not so, andtherefore you will make ill work in the land. ' At this Sir Mordredwaxed very wroth, and would have killed the Bishop had he not fled toGlastonbury, where he became a hermit, and lived in poverty and prayedall day long for the realm, for he knew that a fierce war was at hand. Soon word came to Sir Mordred that King Arthur was hurrying homeacross the seas, to be avenged on his nephew, who had proved traitor. Wherefore Sir Mordred sent letters to all the people throughout thekingdom, and many followed after him, for he had cunningly sown amongthem that with him was great joy and softness of life, while KingArthur would bring war and strife with him. So Sir Mordred drew with agreat host to Dover, and waited for the King. Before King Arthur andhis men could land from the boats and ships that had brought them overthe sea Sir Mordred set upon them, and there was heavy slaughter. Butin the end he and his men were driven back, and he fled, and hispeople with him. After the fight was over the King ordered the dead tobe buried; and there came a man and told him that he had found SirGawaine lying in a boat, and that he was sore wounded. And the Kingwent to him and made moan over him: 'You were ever the man in theworld that I loved most, ' said he, 'you and Sir Lancelot. ' 'Mine uncleKing Arthur, ' answered Sir Gawaine, 'my death day has come, and allthrough my own fault. Had Sir Lancelot been with you as he used to bethis unhappy war had never begun, and of that I am the cause, for Iwould not accord with him. And therefore, I pray you, give me paper, pen, and ink that I may write to him. ' So paper and ink were brought, and Sir Gawaine was held up by King Arthur, and a letter was writwherein Sir Gawaine confessed that he was dying of an old wound givenhim by Sir Lancelot in the siege of one of the cities across the sea, and thus was fulfilled the prophecy of Merlin. 'Of a more noble manmight I not be slain, ' said he. 'Also, Sir Lancelot, make no tarrying, but come in haste to King Arthur, for sore bested is he with mybrother Sir Mordred, who has taken the crown, and would have wedded mylady Queen Guenevere had she not sought safety in the Tower of London. Pray for my soul, I beseech you, and visit my tomb. ' And after writingthis letter, at the hour of noon, Sir Gawaine gave up his spirit, andwas buried by the King in the chapel within Dover Castle. Then was ittold King Arthur that Sir Mordred had pitched a new field upon BarhamDown, and the next morning the King rode hither to him, and there wasa fierce battle between them, and many on both sides were slain. Butat the last King Arthur's party stood best, and Sir Mordred and hismen fled to Canterbury. After the Knights which were dead had been buried, and those that werewounded tended with healing salves, King Arthur drew westwards towardsSalisbury, and many of Sir Mordred's men followed after him, but theythat loved Sir Lancelot went unto Sir Mordred. And a day was fixedbetween the King and Sir Mordred that they should meet upon a downnear Salisbury, and give battle once more. But the night before thebattle Sir Gawaine appeared unto the King in a vision, and warned himnot to fight next day, which was Trinity Sunday, as he would be slainand many of his Knights also; but to make a truce for a month, and atthe end of that time Sir Lancelot would arrive, and would slay SirMordred, and all his Knights with him. As soon as he awoke the Kingcalled the Bishops and the wisest men of his army, and told them ofhis vision, and took counsel what should be done. And it was agreedthat the King should send an embassage of two Knights and two Bishopsunto Sir Mordred, and offer him as much goods and lands as theythought best if he would engage to make a treaty for a month with KingArthur. So they departed, and came to Sir Mordred, where he had a grim host ofan hundred thousand men. For a long time he would not suffer himselfto be entreated, but at the last he agreed to have Cornwall and Kentin King Arthur's days, and after all England. Furthermore, it wasdecided that King Arthur and Sir Mordred should meet in the plainbetween their hosts, each with fourteen persons. 'I am glad of this, 'said King Arthur, when he heard what had been done; but he warned hismen that if they were to see a sword drawn they were to come-onswiftly and slay that traitor, Sir Mordred, 'for I in no wise trusthim. ' And in like wise spake Sir Mordred unto his host. Then they twomet, and agreed on the truce, and wine was fetched and they drank, andall was well. But while they were drinking an adder crept out of abush, and stung one of the fourteen Knights on his foot, and he drewhis sword to slay the adder, not thinking of anything but his pain. And when the men of both armies beheld that drawn sword, they blewtrumpets and horns and shouted grimly, and made them ready for battle. So King Arthur leaped on his horse, and Sir Mordred on his, and theywent back to their own armies, and thus began the fight, and never wasthere seen one more doleful in any Christian land. For all day longthere was rushing and riding, spearing and striking, and many a grimword was there spoken, and many a deadly stroke given. And at the endfull an hundred thousand dead men lay upon the down, and King Arthurhad but two Knights left living, Sir Lucan and his brother SirBedivere. 'Alas! that I should have lived to see this day, ' cried theKing, 'for now I am come to mine end; but would to God that I knewwhere were that traitor Sir Mordred that hath caused all thismischief. ' Then suddenly he saw Sir Mordred leaning on his sword amonga great heap of dead men. 'Give me my spear, ' said King Arthur unto Sir Lucan. 'Sir, let him be, ' answered Sir Lucan. 'Remember your dream, and leaveoff by this. For, blessed be God, you have won the field, and we threebe alive, and of the others none is alive save Sir Mordred himself. Ifyou leave off now, the day of destiny is past. ' 'Tide me death, tide me life, ' said the King, 'he shall not escape myhands, for a better chance I shall never have, ' and he took his spearin both hands and ran towards Sir Mordred, crying 'Traitor! now isyour death day come, ' and smote him under the shield, so that thespear went through his body. And when Sir Mordred felt he had hisdeath wound, he raised himself up and struck King Arthur such a blowthat the sword clave his helmet, and then fell stark dead on the earthagain. When Sir Lucan and Sir Bedivere saw that sight they carried theKing to a little chapel, but they hoped not to leave him there long, for Sir Lucan had noted that many people were stealing out to rob theslain of the ornaments on their armour. And those that were not deadalready they slew. 'Would that I could quit this place to go to some large town, ' saidthe King, when he had heard this, 'but I cannot stand, my head worksso. Ah, Lancelot, sorely have I missed thee. ' At that Sir Lucan andSir Bedivere tried to lift him, but Sir Lucan had been grievouslywounded in the fight, and the blood burst forth again as he liftedArthur, and he died and fell at the feet of the King. 'Alas!' said the King, 'he has died for my sake, and he had more needof help than I. But he would not complain, his heart was so set tohelp me. And I should sorrow yet more if I were still to live long, but my time flieth fast. Therefore, Sir Bedivere, cease moaning andweeping, and take Excalibur, my good sword, and go with it to yonderwater side, and when thou comest there, I charge thee, throw my swordin that water, and come again and tell me what thou hast seen. ' [Illustration: THE LAST BATTLE Sir Mordred] 'My lord, ' answered Sir Bedivere, 'your commandment shall be done, 'and he departed. But when he looked at that noble sword, and beheldthe jewels and gold that covered the pommel and hilt, he said tohimself, 'If I throw this rich sword into the water no good will comeof it, but only harm and loss'; so he hid Excalibur under a tree, andreturned unto the King and told him his bidding was done. 'What didyou see there?' asked the King. 'Sir, ' answered Sir Bedivere, 'I saw nothing but the winds and thewaves. ' 'You have not dealt truly with me, ' said the King. 'Go back, and do mycommand; spare not, but throw it in. ' But again Sir Bedivere's heartfailed him, and he hid the sword, and returned to tell the King he hadseen nothing but the wan water. 'Ah, traitor!' cried King Arthur, 'this is twice you have betrayed me. If you do not now fulfil my bidding, with mine own hands will I slayyou, for you would gladly see me dead for the sake of my sword. ' ThenSir Bedivere was shamed at having disobeyed the King, and drew forththe sword from its hiding place, and carried it to the water side, andwith a mighty swing threw it far into the water. And as it flewthrough the air, an arm and hand lifted itself out of the water, andcaught the hilt, and brandished the sword thrice, and vanished with itbeneath the water. So Sir Bedivere came again unto the King, and toldhim what he saw. 'Alas!' said the King, 'help me hence, for I have tarried overlong, 'and Sir Bedivere took him on his back, and bare him to the water side. And when they stood by the bank, a little barge containing many fairladies and a Queen, all in black hoods, drew near, and they wept andshrieked when they beheld King Arthur. 'Now put me into the barge, ' said the King, and Sir Bedivere laid himsoftly down, and the ladies made great mourning and the barge rowedfrom the land. 'Ah, my lord Arthur!' cried Sir Bedivere, 'what shall become of me nowyou go from me, and I am left here alone with my enemies?' 'Comfort yourself, ' replied the King, 'and do as well as you may, forI go unto the valley of Avilion, to be healed of my grievous wound. And if you never more hear of me, pray for my soul. ' But Sir Bediverewatched the barge till it was beyond his sight, then he rode all nighttill he came to a hermitage. Now when Queen Guenevere heard of thebattle, and how that King Arthur was slain and Sir Mordred and alltheir Knights, she stole away, and five ladies with her, and rode toAmesbury; and there she put on clothes of black and white, and becamea nun, and did great penance, and many alms deeds, and peoplemarvelled at her and at her godly life. And ever she wept and moanedover the years that were past, and for King Arthur. As soon as the messenger whom the King had sent with Sir Gawaine'sletter reached Sir Lancelot, and he learned that Sir Mordred had takenfor himself the crown of England, he rose up in wrath, and, callingSir Bors, bid him collect their host, that they should pass at onceover the sea to avenge themselves on that false Knight. A fair windblew them to Dover, and there Sir Lancelot asked tidings of KingArthur. Then the people told him that the King was slain, and SirMordred, and an hundred thousand men besides, and that the King hadburied Sir Gawaine in the chapel at Dover Castle. 'Fair Sirs, ' saidSir Lancelot, 'show me that tomb'; and they showed it to him, and SirLancelot kneeled before it, and wept and prayed, and this he did fortwo days. And on the third morning he summoned before him all thegreat lords and leaders of his host, and said to them, 'Fair lords, Ithank you all for coming here with me, but we come too late, and thatwill be bitter grief to me as long as I shall live. But since it isso, I will myself ride and seek my lady Guenevere in the west country, where they say she has gone, and tarry you here, I entreat you, forfifteen days, and if I should not return take your ships and departinto your own country. ' [Illustration: EXCALIBUR RETURNS TO THE MERE] Sir Bors strove to reason with him that the quest was fruitless, andthat in the west country he would find few friends; but his wordsavailed nothing. For seven days Sir Lancelot rode, and at last he cameto a nunnery, where Queen Guenevere was looking out from her lattice, and was ware of his presence as he walked in the cloister. And whenshe saw him she swooned, and her ladies and gentlewomen tended her. When she was recovered, she spoke to them and said, 'You will marvel, fair ladies, why I should swoon. It was caused by the sight of yonderKnight who stands there, and I pray you bring him to me. ' As soon asSir Lancelot was brought she said to her ladies, 'Through me and thisman has this war been wrought, for which I repent me night and day. Therefore, Sir Lancelot, I require and pray you never to see my faceagain, but go back to your own land, and govern it and protect it; andtake to yourself a wife, and pray that my soul may be made clean ofits ill doing. ' 'Nay, Madam, ' answered Sir Lancelot, 'that shall I never do; but thesame life that you have taken upon you, will I take upon me likewise. ' 'If you will do so, ' said the Queen, 'it is well; but I may neverbelieve but that you will turn to the world again. ' 'Well, Madam, ' answered he, 'you speak as it pleases you, but younever knew me false to my promise, and I will forsake the world as youhave done. For if in the quest of the Sangreal I had forsaken itsvanities with all my heart and will, I had passed all Knights in thequest, except Sir Galahad my son. And therefore, lady, since you havetaken you to perfection, I must do so also, and if I may find a hermitthat will receive me I will pray and do penance while my life lasts. Wherefore, Madam, I beseech you to kiss me once again. ' 'No, ' said the Queen, 'that I may not do, ' and Sir Lancelot took hishorse and departed in great sorrow. All that day and the next night herode through the forest till he beheld a hermitage and a chapelbetween two cliffs, and heard a little bell ring to Mass. And he thatsang Mass was the Bishop of Canterbury, and Sir Bedivere was with him. After Mass Sir Bedivere told Sir Lancelot how King Arthur had thrownaway his sword and had sailed to the valley of Avilion, and SirLancelot's heart almost burst for grief. Then he kneeled down andbesought the Bishop that he might be his brother. 'That I will, gladly, ' said the Bishop, and put a robe upon him. After the fifteen days were ended, and still Sir Lancelot did notreturn, Sir Bors made the great host go back across the sea, while heand some of Sir Lancelot's kin set forth to seek all over England tillthey found Sir Lancelot. They rode different ways, and by fortune SirBors came one day to the chapel where Sir Lancelot was. And he prayedthat he might stay and be one of their fellowship, and in six monthssix other Knights were joined to them, and their horses went wherethey would, for the Knights spent their lives in fasting and prayer, and kept no riches for themselves. In this wise six years passed, and one night a vision came to SirLancelot in his sleep charging him to hasten unto Amesbury. 'By thetime that thou come there, ' said the vision, 'thou shalt find QueenGuenevere dead; therefore take thy fellows with thee and fetch hercorpse, and bury it by the side of her husband, the noble KingArthur. ' Then Sir Lancelot rose up and told the hermit, and the hermit orderedhim to make ready and to do all as the vision had commanded. And SirLancelot and seven of the other Knights went on foot from Glastonburyto Amesbury, and it took them two days to compass the distance, forit was far and they were weak with fasting. When they reached thenunnery Queen Guenevere had been dead but half an hour, and she hadfirst summoned her ladies to her, and told them that Sir Lancelot hadbeen a priest for near a twelvemonth. 'And hither he cometh as fast ashe may, ' she said, 'to fetch my corpse, and beside my lord King Arthurhe shall bury me. And I beseech Almighty God that I may never havepower to see Sir Lancelot with my bodily eyes. ' 'Thus, ' said theladies, 'she prayed for two days till she was dead. ' Then Sir Lancelotlooked upon her face and sighed, but wept little, and next day he sangMass. After that the Queen was laid on a bier drawn by horses, and anhundred torches were carried round her, and Sir Lancelot and hisfellows walked behind her singing holy chants, and at times one wouldcome forward and throw incense on the dead. So they came toGlastonbury, and the Bishop of Canterbury sang a Requiem Mass over theQueen, and she was wrapped in cloth, and placed first in a web oflead, and then in a coffin of marble, and when she was put into theearth Sir Lancelot swooned away. 'You are to blame, ' said the hermit, when he awaked from his swoon, 'you ought not make such manner of sorrow. ' 'Truly, ' answered Sir Lancelot, 'I trust I do not displease God, butwhen I remember her beauty, and her nobleness, and that of the King, and when I saw his corpse and her corpse lie together, my heart wouldnot bear up my body. And I remembered, too, that it was through me andmy pride that they both came to their end. ' From that day Sir Lancelot ate so little food that he dwined away, andfor the most part was found kneeling by the tomb of King Arthur andQueen Guenevere. None could comfort him, and after six weeks he wastoo weak to rise from his bed. Then he sent for the hermit and to hisfellows, and asked in a weary voice that they would give him the lastrites of the Church; and begged that when he was dead his body mightbe taken to Joyous Gard, which some say is Alnwick and othersBamborough. That night the hermit had a vision that he saw SirLancelot being carried up to heaven by the angels, and he waked SirBors and bade him go and see if anything ailed Sir Lancelot. So SirBors went and Sir Lancelot lay on his bed, stark dead, and he smiledas he lay there. Then was there great weeping and wringing of hands, more than had been made for any man; but they placed him on the horsebier that had carried Queen Guenevere, and lit a hundred torches, andin fifteen days they reached Joyous Gard. There his body was laid inthe choir, with his face uncovered, and many prayers were said overhim. And there, in the midst of their praying, came Sir Ector deMaris, who for seven years had sought Sir Lancelot through all theland. 'Ah, Lancelot, ' he said, when he stood looking beside his dead body, 'thou wert head of all Christian Knights. Thou wert the courtliestKnight that ever drew sword, and the faithfulest friend that everbestrode a horse. Thou wert the goodliest Knight that ever man hasseen, and the truest lover that ever loved a woman. ' THE BATTLE OF RONCEVALLES _THE BATTLE OF RONCEVALLES_ About twelve hundred years ago there lived an Emperor of the Westwhose name was Charles the Great, or, as some called him, Charlemagne, which means Carolus Magnus. When he was not making war he ruled welland wisely at Aix-la-Chapelle, but at the time that this story beginshe had been for seven years in Spain, fighting against the Saracens. The whole country had fallen before him, except only Saragossa, afamous town on the river Ebro, not far from the outskirts of thePyrenees, which was held by the Moorish King Marsile, with a greathost. One hot day Marsile was lying on a cool slab of blue marble which wasshaded by overhanging fruit trees, and his nobles were sitting allround him. Suddenly the King sat up, and, turning to his followers, hesaid: 'Listen to me, my Lords, for I have something of note to say unto you. Evil days are upon us, for the Emperor of fair France will never restuntil he has driven us out of our country, and I have no armywherewith to meet him. Then counsel me, my wise men, how to escapeboth death and shame. ' At the King's speech there was silence, for none knew how to reply, till Blancandrin, Lord of Val-Fonde, stood up. 'Fear nothing, ' he said to the King, 'but send a messenger to thisproud Charles, promising to do him faithful service and asking for hisfriendship. And let there go with the messenger presents to soften hisheart, bears and lions, and dogs to hunt them; seven hundred camelsand four hundred mules, loaded with gold and silver, so that he shallhave money to pay his soldiers. The messenger shall tell him that onthe Feast of St. Michael you yourself will appear before him, andsuffer yourself to be converted to the faith of Christ, and that youwill be his man and do homage to him. If he asks for hostages, well!send ten or twenty, so as to gain his confidence; the sons of ourwives. I myself will offer up my own son, even if it leads to hisdeath. Better they should all die, than that we should lose ourcountry and our lands, and be forced to beg till the end of ourlives. ' And the nobles answered, 'He has spoken well. ' King Marsile broke up his Council, and chose out those who were to goon the embassy. 'My lords, ' he said, 'you will start at once on yourmission to King Charles, and be sure you take olive branches in yourhands, and beg him to have pity on me. Tell him that before a monthhas passed over his head I will follow you with a thousand of myservants, to receive baptism and do him homage. If, besides, he asksfor hostages, they shall be sent. ' 'It is well, ' said Blancandrin, 'the treaty is good. ' The Emperor Charles was happier than he had ever been in his life. Hehad taken Cordova, and thrown down the walls; his war machines hadlaid low the towers, and the rich city had been plundered, while everySaracen who refused to be baptized had been slain. Now he felt hemight rest, and sought the cool of an orchard, where were alreadygathered his nephew Roland, with Oliver his comrade, Geoffrey of Anjouhis standard bearer, and many other famous Knights. They lay about onwhite carpets doing what they best liked--some played games, chess ordraughts, but these were mostly the old men who were glad to be still:the young ones fenced and tilted. Under a pine tree, close to asweet-briar, a seat of massive gold was placed, and on it sat theEmperor of the fair country of France, a strong man, with his beardwhite as snow. But his rest was short. Soon came the messengers of theSaracen King, and, descending from their mules, they bowed low beforehim. [Illustration: UNDER A PINE TREE CLOSE TO A SWEET-BRIAR ON A SEAT OFGOLD SAT--THE KING OF THE FAIR COUNTRY OF FRANCE Charlemagne] It was Blancandrin who first spoke, showing with his hands thepresents he had brought with him, and offering that the King wouldreceive baptism, and do homage for his lands, if only the EmperorCharles would return with his army into France, 'for, ' saidBlancandrin, 'you have been too long in this country. ' When Blancandrin had spoken, the Emperor sat silent with his headbent, thinking of the words of the Saracen, for never was it hiscustom to be hasty in his speech. At length he looked up, and a proudlook was on his face. 'You have said well, ' he answered, 'yet King Marsile is my deadlyenemy, and how do I know that I can put my trust in your offers?' 'You will have hostages, ' replied the Saracen, 'sons of the highestnobles, and my own son will be among them. And when you have gone backto your own palace, my master will follow you on the Feast of St. Michael, and will be made a Christian in the waters of Aix. ' 'If he does this, ' said Charles, 'his soul may still be saved, ' and hebade hospitality to be shown to his guests. Before sunrise next morning the Emperor left his bed, and heard Masssaid and Matins sung. Then he seated himself under a pine, and calledhis Barons to council. Many there were whose names men still remember:Ogier the Dane, and Archbishop Turpin of Rheims, and the brave Countof Gascony, Count Roland, nephew of Charles, and his friend thevaliant Oliver. Ganélon was there too, by whom the wrong was to bewrought. As soon as they were all seated, the Emperor spoke and toldthem afresh what the messengers had said. 'But Marsile makes onecondition, ' continued Charles, 'which is that I must return to France, where he will come to me as my vassal. Now, does he swear falsely, orcan I trust his oath?' 'Let us be very careful how we answer him, 'cried the nobles with one voice. At that Roland sprang to his feet. 'It is madness to put faith inMarsile, ' said he; 'seven years have we been in Spain, and many townshave I conquered for you, but Marsile we have always proved a traitor. Once before he sent us an embassy of Unbelievers each one bearing anolive branch, and they made you the same promises. Once before youcalled a meeting of your barons who counselled you to do the thingthey knew you wished, and you sent to the Court of the Unbelievers thenoble Counts Basil and Bazan. And how did Marsile treat them? Hecommanded that they should be led into the mountains and that theirheads should be cut off, which was done. No! Go on with the war, asyou have begun it; march on Saragossa and lay siege to the town, though it should last to the end of your life, and avenge those whomMarsile put to death. ' With bent head the Emperor listened to Roland, twisting all the whilehis fingers in his moustache. He kept silent, turning over in his mindthe things Roland had said, and the nobles kept silence, too, allexcept Ganélon. For Ganélon rose and stood before Charles and began tospeak. 'Believe none of us, ' he said; 'think of nothing but your ownadvantage when Marsile offers to become your vassal, and to do homagefor the whole of Spain, and to receive baptism besides; he who wishesyou to reject such offers cares nothing for the deaths the rest of usmay die. Pay no attention to such madness, but listen to your wisemen. ' He sat down in his place, and then the Duke Naimes took up his words. 'You have heard, ' he said to Charles, 'the words of Ganélon. Wisecounsel, if we only follow it! Marsile knows that he is conquered atlast. You have won his towns, and vanquished him in battle, and he isreduced to beg for your pity. It would be shameful to ask for anythingfurther, and the more so as you have hostages as pledges of his goodfaith. It is time that the war ended; therefore send him one of yourbarons to speak with him face to face. ' And the nobles answered, 'TheDuke has spoken well. ' 'Noble lords, what envoy shall we send to King Marsile at Saragossa?''I will go, if it is your pleasure, ' said Duke Naimes. 'Give me yourglove and the wand of office. ' 'No, ' replied Charles, 'your wisdom isgreat, and I cannot spare you from my side. Remain where you are, Icommand you. ' 'Let me go, ' cried Roland. 'No, no, ' answered Count Oliver; 'you aretoo hasty and too imprudent. You would only fall into some trap. Withthe King's good leave I will go instead. ' 'Hold your peace, ' said Charles, shaking his head; 'you will neitherof you go. None of my twelve peers shall be chosen. ' Then Turpin of Rheims left his seat and spoke to Charles with his loudand ringing voice. 'Fair King, give your Franks a little peace. Forseven years you have been in Spain, and your barons have all that timebeen fighting and suffering. It is now, sire, that the glove and thewand of office should be given. I will go and visit this Unbeliever, and will tell him in what scorn I hold him. ' But the Emperor, full ofrage, cried out, 'By my beard, you will stop with me. Go to your placeon the white carpet, and give me none of your advice unless I ask forit. ' 'Good Frankish Knights, ' said Charles, 'choose me a baron from my ownland, who shall be envoy to King Marsile, and who, at need, can fightwell. ' 'Ah, ' cried Roland, 'let it be Ganélon, my stepfather; you will notfind a better man. ' 'Yes, ' said the Franks, 'he is the man; let him goif the King pleases. ' 'Ganélon, ' commanded the King, 'come here and I will give you theglove and the wand of office. It is the voice of the barons that haschosen you. ' 'No, ' replied Ganélon, 'it is Roland's doing, and to the end of mylife I will bear him hatred for it. Oliver also will I hate, sinceOliver is his friend. And never more will I love the twelve peers, forthey love him. Under your own eyes, sire, I throw down my challenge. ' 'You are angry about nothing, ' said the King, 'and as I have commandedyou, you will go. ' 'I can go, but it will be my death, as it was the death of Basil andof his brother Bazan. Who goes there, returns not. But, sire, do notforget that your sister is my wife and that I have a son Baldwin, who, if he lives, will be the bravest of the brave. To him I leave all mylands. Guard him well, for I shall see him no more. ' 'Your heart is too tender, ' said Charles, 'but there is no help forit, you must go. ' At the words of the King, Ganélon flung his fur mantle to the groundin fury. 'It is to you, ' he cried, turning to Roland, 'that I owe thisperil. I am your stepfather, and that is reason enough that you sendme to lose my head at the Court of King Marsile. Let it be so; but ifever I return I will bring on you such trouble that it will only endwith your life. ' 'You talk like a madman, ' said Roland. 'All men know that I carenothing for threats. But it needs a wise man to go on such a mission, and if the King pleases, I will go in your place. ' 'You will not go in my place, ' answered Ganélon. 'I am not yourvassal, to do as you bid me. Charles has commanded me to go toSaragossa, therefore to Saragossa I go. But beware of what I do when Iget there. ' At this Roland began to laugh, and when Ganélon saw him laughing, itseemed as if his heart would burst with anger. 'I hate you, ' hemuttered to Roland. 'I should never have been chosen but for you. Great Emperor, ' he said aloud to Charles, 'behold me ready to obeyyour orders. ' [Illustration: MARSILE THREATENS GANELON WITH A JAVELIN] 'Listen, fair Count, ' replied Charles, 'for this is the message Iwould have you bear to King Marsile. If he agrees to become my vassal, and to receive Holy Baptism, I will give him half of Spain as a fief. The other half will be held by Roland, my nephew. If these terms donot please King Marsile, I will myself besiege Saragossa, and willtake him and bind him in chains. Then he shall be brought to Aix, where he shall be put to a shameful death. So take this letter whichis sealed with my seal, and give it into the hand of the Infidel. 'When Ganélon had put the letter in safety, the King held out to himhis glove, but the Count was not quick to seize it, and it fell to theground. 'Heavens, ' cried the Franks who were standing round, 'howdreadful an omen! This message will be the cause of dire misfortunes. ''I will send you news of them, ' Ganélon answered. And he said toCharles, 'Let me depart, sire, as I must go. I wish to lose no time. ' 'Go then, ' replied the King, making over him the sign of the cross andgiving him the wand of office. And Ganélon went. It was not long before he overtook the Saracens, who had lingered, hoping he might join them, and Blancandrin began to sing the praisesof Charles and his conquests. 'He is a wonderful man, ' answeredGanélon, 'and of such a strong will that no man may strive againstit. ' 'How brave are these Franks, ' went on Blancandrin; 'but your nobleswere ill-advised in the counsel they gave the King upon this matter. It bodes evil to Charles and to many beside him. ' 'None of them merit this blame, ' said Ganélon, 'save Roland only, andthe shame will be on his head. His pride is so great that he thinks nosword can touch him, but until he is really dead peace we can neverhave. ' Here the Saracen glanced at Ganélon beside him. 'He is a fineman, ' thought he, 'but there is cunning in his eye, ' and thenBlancandrin spoke. 'Let us understand each other plainly, ' he said;'is it your wish to be avenged of Roland? Then, by the beard ofMahomet, deliver him into our hands. King Marsile is a generousmaster, and knows how to repay those who serve him. ' Ganélon heard hiswords, and bent his head in silence. But the silence did not last long: before they had arrived atSaragossa, Ganélon had made an agreement with Blancandrin, that theywould find some means of causing Roland to perish. This decided, theyrode through the gates of the town, and dismounted from their horses. In the shadow of a pine, a throne was placed covered with soft silkfrom Alexandria, and on it sat he who was once the master of the wholeof Spain. Twenty thousand Saracens stood around him, but not a soundwas made, so eager they were to hear Charles's answer. Blancandrinadvanced to the King's throne, leading Ganélon by the wrist. 'Greeting, great King, ' said he; 'we delivered your message toCharles, and he raised his two hands to heaven, and answered nothing. But he has sent you one of his great lords, and he will tell you if itis peace or no peace. ' 'Let him speak, ' replied Marsile, 'and we will listen. ' Ganélon waited a little before he spoke, for he knew that one carelessword might prove his own ruin. 'Greeting, ' he said, when at last hehad made ready his speech. 'This is the message sent you byCharlemagne. You must receive Holy Baptism, and Charles will allow youto do homage for half of Spain. The other half he gives to Roland, hisnephew, and a proud neighbour you will find him. If these terms do notplease you, he will lay siege to Saragossa, and will seize yourperson, and carry you to Aix, the capital of the Empire, where youwill die a shameful death. ' When he heard this, Marsile trembled withrage, and drawing a dart he would have thrown it at Ganélon had notsomeone held him from behind. Ganélon looked on, his hand on hissword, which he drew a little from its scabbard. 'Sword, ' said he, 'you are sharp and bright. While I wear you at the Court of thisKing, the Emperor can never say that I have died alone in a foreignland. But before I die you shall drink the blood of the best in hisarmy. ' The Infidels who were standing by prayed Marsile to go back to hisseat in order that the matter might be decided, 'You put yourself inthe wrong, ' said the old Caliph, 'when you wish to strike this Frank. ' 'Sire, ' answered Ganélon, 'I will suffer this insult patiently, butnot all the treasure of your kingdom should hinder my delivering themessage of my master. ' With that he threw from his shoulders hismantle of zibeline, but kept light hold of his sword. 'See, ' said theSaracens, 'did you ever behold a prouder warrior?' Ganélon drew nearthe King and repeated the message that Charles had given him. When hehad finished he held out the letter, and Marsile, who had studied inthe best schools of learning, broke the seal and read it to himself. 'Listen to this, my lords, ' he cried, 'and say if ever you heard suchmadness! Charles bids me think of Basil and Bazan, whose heads I cutoff, up there in the mountains. And if I wish my own life to bespared, I am to send him my uncle, the Caliph, to deal with as hethinks fit. ' The Saracens heard the message in grim silence, which wasbroken by the voice of the King's son. 'Ganélon must be mad indeed togive such a message as that, ' said he, 'and he deserves death for hisboldness. Deliver him to me, and I will do justice on him. ' Ganélonunderstood his words but said nothing, only he quietly placed his backagainst a pine tree, and played with the hilt of his sword. King Marsile rose and went into his orchard, followed by his bestcouncillors, Jorfalon his son, his uncle the Caliph, and others whomhe most trusted. 'Summon the Frank also, ' Blancandrin whispered in hisear, 'for he has promised to throw in his lot with us. ' 'Bring him, 'answered the King, and Blancandrin brought him into the orchard, wherethe web of treason was woven. 'Noble Ganélon, ' said Marsile, 'I acted foolishly towards you justnow, when, in my anger, I sought to strike you. Let me offer you themantle of marten fur in amends. It has just arrived from a farcountry, and is worth five hundred pounds in gold. ' 'I accept itgladly, ' replied Ganélon as the King hung the cloak round his neck, 'and may you be rewarded in as splendid a gift!' 'Ganélon, ' continued the King, 'I wish you to be my friend, though itwill not be wise to show you openly my goodwill. Tell me aboutCharlemagne, and whether what I have heard of him is really the truth. They say he is very old, nearly two hundred years, and that he haswandered from one country to another and been in the thick of everyfight, and has made the most powerful Kings beggars. When will he growtired of all these wars? It is time that he rested himself at Aix. ' 'No, ' said Ganélon, 'those who told you that Charlemagne was like thatdid not speak truly. My tongue could never tell of his goodness andhis honour towards all men. Who could ever paint what Charlemagne is?I would rather die than leave his service. ' 'What you say is wonderful, ' replied Marsile, 'but after all he hasdone, will repose never seem sweet to him?' 'Not while his nephew Roland lives, ' said Ganélon. 'There is not sucha fighter under heaven, and his comrade Oliver is famous also for hisprowess. The twelve peers whom the Emperor so dearly loves, withtwenty thousand picked men from the van of the army--truly Charlemagnemay rest in peace, and fear no man. ' 'Fair lord, ' answered Marsile, 'my subjects are the finest you cansee, and at any moment I can summon four hundred thousand men to givebattle to Charlemagne. ' 'You will not conquer him this time, ' said Ganélon, 'and in a fightthousands of your soldiers would be killed. Hear my counsel. SendCharles yet more gold and silver, and offer twenty other hostages, oncondition he returns himself to France, leaving his rear-guard behindhim. This, being the post of danger, will be claimed by his nephewRoland, whose comrade Oliver is always by his side. It will be easy tomanage that the two Counts shall meet their deaths, and Roland andOliver once dead the King will have no more heart for war. ' 'Fair lord, ' replied Marsile, 'what shall I have to do in order tokill Roland?' 'That I can easily tell you, ' answered Ganélon. 'When Charlemagne haspassed safely through the mountains, with the most part of hissoldiers, his baggage and his hostages, then have a hundred thousandof your Infidels ready to fall upon Roland and his rear-guard oftwenty thousand men. The Franks will fight hard, but they cannot standagainst such numbers, though of their foes many will be left upon thefield. Then lose not a moment, but give them battle a second time. They will be too few and too weak to fight long, and for the rest ofyour life you will have peace. If you kill Roland, you will have cutoff the Emperor's right arm. Farewell to the splendid armies of theFranks; never more will such forces be gathered together; never willCharles wear again his golden crown, but all Spain shall be in peace. ' Marsile heard the words of Ganélon, and stooped and kissed his neck, and ordered his costliest treasures to be brought before him. Then hesaid: 'There is no further need of speech between us; swear that Ishall find him in the rear-guard, and I shall swear that you shallhave your revenge. ' And Ganélon swore. But Marsile was not contentwith the oath that Ganélon made. He commanded that a copy of the Koranshould be brought, the sacred book of Mahomet, and placed it on achair of ivory, which stood under an olive tree. With his hand on thebook Marsile also took his oath, that if among the rear-guard ofCharlemagne's army he found Roland, he would fall upon him with allhis host and compass his death, and that of the twelve peers ofFrance. So the bond of treachery was sealed. Then the Infidels crowdedround, and one offered Ganélon his sword, and another his helmet, while the Queen brought bracelets of precious stones as gifts for hiswife. Marsile asked his treasurer if he had made ready the presentsthat were to be sent to Charles, and pressing Ganélon in his arms, hedeclared that not a day should pass without his friend likewisereceiving presents, if only he would give his help in the slaying ofRoland. 'You keep me too long, ' was Ganélon's answer, and he mountedhis horse and went. All this while the Emperor Charles was marching towards France, but hehalted at a small town which long ago had been taken by Roland, waiting till he heard some tidings of Ganélon, and received the newsthat Marsile had agreed to do homage for Spain. At length, one morningat dawn, a messenger came to the King's tent telling him that Ganélonhad arrived, and Charles hastened forth with Roland and Oliver, DukeNaimes and a thousand more, to meet Ganélon. 'Greeting, ' said thetraitor, bowing low; 'I bring you the keys of Saragossa, and twentyhostages, and great gifts. The noble King Marsile beseeches you not toblame him, because the Caliph, his uncle, has not come with me. I haveseen--seen with my own eyes--three hundred thousand men all coveredwith armour sail away in ships with the Caliph for their leader, because they could neither defend their own faith nor forswear it. Buthardly were they out of sight of land than a fierce tempest overtookthem, and they were all lost. The Caliph must have died with the rest, or the King would have bade him come with me. As to the King himself, sire, before a month has passed he will be in France, ready to receivebaptism in your presence. And he will become your vassal, and dohomage for the kingdom of Spain. ' 'You have done wisely, ' said Charles, 'and your reward shall begreat. ' So trumpets were sounded and tents were struck, and the hostmarched with gaiety in their hearts to France the Fair. [Illustration: The Dream of Charlemagne] 'My war is finished, ' said the King, as his army gladly turned theirbacks on Spain, and at nightfall spread their tents and slept till daybegan. But little he knew that four hundred thousand Unbelievers, withshields slung from their necks and swords in their hands, were ridingsilently through the mountain passes with the intent of hidingthemselves in a wood till the moment came. There they were, and theFranks knew nothing of it, nor what would come. Charles slept, and in his sleep he dreamed that Ganélon took his stoutlance of ash wood from his hands and brandished it in the air, thenbroke it with his fists. After this dream came another. He was nolonger shut fast in by the mountains, but was at home in France, standing in his chapel at Aix. Here a bear appeared before him and bitso deep into his arm that it reached the bone. Then from the otherside, from the Ardennes, there sprang a leopard and would have tornhim in pieces, had not a greyhound come to his aid, and attacked firstthe bear and then the leopard. 'A fight! a fight!' cried the Franks, but they knew not which would be victorious. And all the while Charlesslept soundly. With the dawn a thousand horns awoke the sleepers, andthe clamour of a camp began. 'My lords, ' said Charles, calling all hisbarons together, 'you see these narrow defiles through which we mustpass? To whom shall I give the command of the rear-guard which mustprotect the rest of my army?' 'To Roland, to Roland my stepson, ' cried Ganélon. 'No Knight is sobrave as he, and we may trust to him the safety of our host. ' Charleslistened and looked him in the face. 'You must be the devil himself, 'he said, 'for you seem as if your body was shaken by some evilpassion. If Roland goes to the rear, who then shall command the van?' 'Ogier, the Dane, ' answered Ganélon. 'There is no better man. ' When Count Roland heard his name he pressed forward. 'Fair stepfather, I owe you much love for proposing me to lead the rear-guard of thearmy. Charles the King shall lose nothing through me; not a horse or amule shall fall till his price is paid in blows received by theInfidels. ' 'You speak well, ' said Ganélon, 'and what you say is true. ' Then Roland turned to Charlemagne: 'Give me, O King, the bow which youhold in your hand. I will promise not to let it fall, as Ganélon didyour glove. ' But the King sat silent, with his head bent, and tears ran down hischeeks. At last Naimes drew near and spoke to him, and among them allCharles had no more faithful friend. 'You have heard, sire, what CountRoland said. If he is to lead the rear-guard--and there is no man thatcan do it better--give him the bow that you have drawn, for which heasks. ' So the King gave it to him, and Roland took it gladly. 'Fairnephew, ' said the King, 'I wish to leave half of my army behind withyou; keep it close to you, it will be your safeguard. ' 'No, ' answered the Count; 'to accept the half of your army would be toshame my race. Leave me twenty thousand Franks, and you will pass thedefiles in safety. While I live you need fear no man. ' Quickly CountRoland girded on his armour, girded on his sword Durendal, the comradeof many fights, and mounted his horse Veillantif, whom all men knew. 'We will follow you to death, ' cried the Franks as they saw him. ButRoland answered them nothing. The first to come to his side wasOliver, his old companion, then Turpin the Archbishop, the CountGautier, and many more, and after that they chose twenty thousand men, the best that Charles had with him. Some of them he sent, under CountGautier, to drive the Unbelievers from the hill-top, and that same daythey fought a fierce battle. And while Charles and his army enteredthe pass of Roncevalles, Roland took up his ground and prepared forthe fight, which he knew must come shortly. And Ganélon, the traitor, knew it too. High were the mountains, and dark the valleys; terrible were thedefiles amidst the black rocks. The army marched slowly and with greatdifficulty; fifteen miles away you could hear the sound of theirtramping. But when they caught sight of Gascony, of France, where theyhad left their homes and their wives, there was not a man among themwho did not weep for happiness. Charles alone shed tears of sorrow, for he thought of his nephew in the passes of Spain. 'Ganélon hasbetrayed us, ' said he to Duke Naimes, 'and he has betrayed Roland too. It was he who caused him to stay behind with the rear-guard, and if Ilose him--O God! I shall never find such another. ' The nephew of Marsile had craved a boon, that he and eleven of hiscomrades should measure themselves against the Twelve Peers of France, and that none but himself should strike the first blow at Roland. Thenoblest subjects of Marsile flocked at his call, and a gay show theymade when ready for battle, and mounted on horses as eager for thefray as themselves. So great was the noise that the sound reached evento the French camp. 'I think, comrade, that it will not be long beforewe fight with the Saracens, ' said Oliver. 'May it be as you say, ' answered Roland; 'it is our duty to make astand here for the King, as one should be ready to suffer all painsfor one's liege lord. For him one must endure heat and cold, hungerand thirst, and strike hard blows with all one's might, and take heedthat no evil song can be made on us after we are dead. The right is onthe side of the Christians. Look to yourselves, for you will never seea bad example from me. ' THE BATTLE Oliver had climbed a hill, from which he could see into the plains ofSpain. 'Roland, ' cried he, 'do you see those shining helmets andglittering swords? It is Ganélon who has done this, and it was he whohad you left here. ' 'Be silent, Oliver, ' answered Roland. 'He is my stepfather. I will nothear him ill spoken of. ' Then Oliver went down the hill and told hissoldiers what he had seen. 'No battle will ever be like this one, ' hesaid; 'you will need all your strength to keep your ground and not bedriven back. ' 'Cursed be he who runs away, ' answered they. 'There isnot one of us but knows how to die. ' 'The Infidels are many, ' said Oliver again, 'and our Franks are butfew. Roland, blow your horn; Charles will hear it and come to ourhelp. ' 'You are mad to say that, ' replied Roland, 'for in France I shouldlose all my glory. No; but my sword Durendal knows how to strike, andour Franks will fight hard, and with what joy! It was an ill day forthe Unbelievers when they came here, for none, I tell you, none willescape. ' 'The Unbelievers are many, ' said Oliver again, 'and we are very few. Roland, my friend, sound your horn; Charles will hear it, and come toour help. ' 'I should be mad if I did so, ' answered Roland. 'In France, when theyknew it, I should lose all my glory! No; but my sword Durendal knowshow to strike, and our Franks will fight hard, and with what joy! Itwas an ill day for the Unbelievers when they came here, for none, Itell you, none will escape death. ' 'O Roland, I pray you sound your horn, and Charles will hear it as hepasses the defiles, and the Franks, I will swear it, will come to ourhelp. ' 'Now God forbid, ' said Roland, 'that through me my parents should beshamed, or that I should bring dishonour on the fair land of France. No; but my sword Durendal knows how to strike. The Unbelievers havecome to their death, and they will find it. ' 'I see no dishonour, ' said Oliver. 'With my own eyes have I beheld theSaracens of Spain; the mountains and the valleys alike are full ofthem. And how few are we!' 'Then we shall have the more fighting, ' answered Roland. 'God forbidthat I should turn my Franks into cowards! Rather death thandishonour. The more we kill, the better the Emperor will love us. ' Roland was brave, but Oliver was wise also, and the souls of both wereas high as their words. 'Look round you, and think for a moment, ' saidOliver; 'they are close to us, and Charles is far. Ah! if you wouldonly have sounded your horn, the King would have been here, and ourtroops would not have been in danger. The poor rear-guard will nevermore be again such as it is to-day. ' 'You speak foolishly, ' answered Roland. 'Cursed be he whose heart isafraid. We will be strong to hold our ground. From us will come theblows, from us the battle. ' When Roland saw that he must give battle to the Infidels, he calledhis Franks and bade Oliver stand beside him. 'Do not say these things, my friend and comrade, ' said he. 'The Emperor has left us twentythousand picked men, with not one craven heart amongst them. For ourliege lord, one must be ready to suffer cold and heat, hunger andthirst, and cheerfully shed his blood and endure every ill. Strikewith your lance, Oliver, as I shall strike with Durendal, the swordwhich was given me by the King himself. And if I am slain, the man whowins it may say, "it was the sword of a noble vassal. "' Then from a little hill Turpin the Archbishop spoke to them. 'Charleshas left us here; he is our King, and it is our duty to die for him. Christianity is in danger, and you must defend it. You cannot escape abattle; then fight, and ask God's pardon for your sins. In His Name, Iwill give you absolution, and already they wait for you in Paradise. 'The Franks got off their horses and knelt on the ground, and theArchbishop blessed them. After this they mounted again, and placedthemselves in order of battle. Like lightning Roland on his horse Veillantif swept along the defiles, his face bright and smiling, his lance in rest. Oliver his friend wasclose behind him, and the Franks said to each other, 'Look at ourchampion!' He glanced proudly at the Infidels, but when his eyes fellupon the Franks they were soft and gentle. 'Go slowly, noble barons, 'said he; 'the Unbelievers to-day are seeking their martyrdom, and youwill find richer booty than ever King of France did before. ' 'Words of mine are useless, ' said Oliver; 'you would not let Charlesknow of our peril, so you cannot blame him for our danger. Ride ashard as you can, and think only of two things, how best to give andreceive blows. And do not forget the battle cry of King Charles. ' 'Montjoie! Montjoie!' shouted the Franks, as the two armies cametogether with a crash. It were long to tell of that battle and of the brave deeds that weredone both by Christians and Unbelievers. Roland was there where thestrife was hardest, and struck with his lance till the wood snapped. Then he drew Durendal from the scabbard and drove a bloody paththrough the ranks of the Infidels. Oliver and the Twelve Peers werenot far behind him, and the ground was red from the corpses of thepagans. 'Well fought, well fought!' cried the Archbishop, 'Montjoie, Montjoie!' Oliver seemed to be everywhere at once. His lance was broken in two, and there was only the head and a splinter remaining, but it dealtmore death blows than the sword of many another man. 'What are youdoing, comrade?' cried Roland, when for a moment their horses touched. 'It is not wood that is needed in this battle, but well-temperedsteel! Where is your sword Hauteclair, with its guard of gold and itshandle of crystal?' 'I have no time to draw it, ' said Oliver. 'There are too many blows tostrike. ' Fiercer and fiercer grew the combat; thicker and thicker the corpseslay on the ground. Who could count the Franks who were stretchedthere, never more to see their wives or their mothers, or the comradesthat awaited them in the defiles? But the number of the dead Saracenswas greater even than theirs. And while they fought on Spanish soil, astrange tempest arose in France, thunder and wild winds, and atrembling of the earth; walls fell down, and at mid-day there wasdarkness. Men whispered to each other: 'It is the end of the world. 'No, no; the end of all things was not yet, it was nature mourning forthe death of Roland. At length the Saracens turned and fled, and theFranks pursued them, and Margaris the Valiant was left alone. Hislance was broken, his shield pierced with holes, his sword-bladebloody, while he himself was sorely wounded. Heavens! what a warriorhe would have made if he had only been a Christian. He rode fast toMarsile the King, and cried to him to mount his horse, and rally hismen, and bring up fresh soldiers to deal the Franks a last blow, whilethey were exhausted from the long fight. 'It will be easy to revengethe thousands that they have slain, ' said he; 'but if you let themslip now the tide of battle may turn against us. ' The King Marsile sent for fresh forces, and at sight of them theFranks embraced each other for the last time, while the Archbishoppromised them a speedy entrance into Paradise. 'The Emperor willavenge the treachery of Ganélon, ' cried Roland, 'whether we live ordie, but the worst part of the fight is before us, and we shall needall our strength to beat back the Unbelievers. They must not telltales of cowardice in the fair land of France. ' Then they spurredtheir horses and advanced in line, crying 'Montjoie! Montjoie!' 'Count Roland is not as other men, ' said King Marsile, 'and as he isnot content with two battles, we will give him a third. To-day Charleswill cease to have power over Spain, and France will bow her head withshame. ' And he gave his orders to the vanguard to go forward, while hehimself waited on a little hill till the moment came to charge. Fiercewas the shock as the two armies met, and bravely did their leadersfight, hand to hand and sword to sword. None struck harder than Turpinthe Archbishop, who cursed his foes as he bore them from theirsaddles. 'He fights well, ' said the Franks who watched his blows. Butthe Franks had fought long, and were faint and weary. They had lostmuch blood, and their arms were weak to strike. 'See how our brothersfall, ' they whispered one to another, and Roland heard their groans, and his heart was near breaking. Thousands lay dead, thousands morewere wounded, but still the battle went on. Horses without riderswandered about the field neighing for their masters. Then Marsile badethe trumpets sound, and his army gathered round the great standardwith the Dragon, borne by a Saracen named Abimus. When Turpin theArchbishop caught sight of him, he dashed straight towards the banner, and with one blow of his mighty sword stretched the Unbeliever dead onthe ground before the Dragon. 'Montjoie! Montjoie!' he cried, and theFranks heard, and said one to the other, 'Heaven send that Charles hasmany like him!' The lances of the Franks were broken, and theirshields were for the most part split in two, but three hundred nakedswords still were left to deal blows at the shining helmets of theInfidels. 'Help! help! O King!' cried the Saracens, and Marsile heard, and answered, 'Better die than flee before these Franks. Let no onethink of himself, but all press round Roland. If Roland dies, Charlesis conquered. If Roland lives, all is over for us!' But Roland, withOliver at his side, swept a clear space with Durendal, and none mightcome near him; the Archbishop kept his enemies at bay with his lance. Four times the Franks endured the shock of the onset, but at the fifththey were borne down by numbers, and now only sixty remained upon theground. Then Roland turned to Oliver and said, 'Fair sir and dearest friend, well may we pity France who will henceforth be widowed of such bravewarriors. O Charles, my King, why do you not come to us? Oliver, tellme, how can we let him know what straits we are in?' 'There is noway, ' said Oliver, 'and death rather than dishonour. ' 'I will sound my horn, ' said Roland, 'and Charles will hear, and comeback through the defiles. I know that the Franks will retrace theirsteps and come to our aid. ' 'That would be a shameful thing for them, ' replied Oliver; 'all ourkinsfolk would blush for us for ever, and we should likewise blush forourselves. When I begged you to do it you would not, and now the timeis past. ' 'The battle is sore, ' said Roland, 'I shall sound the horn, andCharles will hear it. ' 'You refused to do it while yet there was time, ' answered Oliver. 'Ifthe Emperor had come then, so many of our best warriors would not belying dead before us. It is not his fault that he is not here. But ifyou sound the horn now, I will never give you my sister, the fairAude, for your wife. ' 'Why do you bear such malice?' said Roland. [Illustration: ROLAND WINDS HIS HORN IN THE VALLEY OF RONCESVALLES] 'It is your fault, ' answered Oliver. 'Courage and madness are notthe same thing, and prudence is always better than fury. If so manyFranks lie dead, it is your folly which has killed them, and now wecan no longer serve the Emperor. If you would have listened to me, Charles would have been here, and Marsile and his Saracens would havebeen slain. Your courage, Roland, has cost us dear! For yourself, youwill be killed and France be covered with dishonour. And before nightfalls our friendship will be ended. ' Then he wept, and Roland weptalso. The Archbishop had been near, and heard their words. 'Do not quarrelat this hour, ' he said. 'Your horn could not save them now. Charles istoo far; it would take him too long to come. Yet sound it, for he willreturn and avenge himself on the Unbelievers. And they will take ourbodies and put them on biers, and lay them on horses, and will bury uswith tears of pity among the mountains, building up high walls roundus, so that the dogs and the wild boar shall not devour us. ' 'What yousay is good, ' answered Roland, and he lifted his horn, and its mightyvoice rang through the mountains and Charles heard the echo thirtymiles away. 'Our men are fighting, ' he cried, but Ganélon answered, 'If another man had said that, we should have called him a liar. 'Count Roland was sorely wounded and the effort to sound the horncaused the blood to pour from his mouth. But he sounded it once more, and the echoes leaped far. Charles heard it in the defiles, and allhis Franks heard it too. 'It is Roland's horn, ' said the King, 'and heis fighting. ' 'He is not fighting, ' answered Ganélon; 'you are old, and your wordsare those of a child. Beside, you know how great is the pride ofRoland; it is a marvel that God has suffered him to live so long. Fora hare, Roland would sound his horn all day, and at this moment he ismost likely laughing with his Twelve Peers over the fright he hascaused us. And again, who is there who would dare to attack Roland?No one. March on, sire; why make halt? France is still distant. ' Count Roland suffered grievous pain and a great wound was across hisforehead. He sounded his horn for the third time, and Charles and hisFranks heard it. 'That horn carries far, ' said he, and Naimesanswered, 'It is Roland who is calling for help. A battle is going on;some one has betrayed him. Quick, sire, he has called often enough. Sound your war-cry and hasten to his help. ' Then the Emperor orderedhis trumpets to be sounded, and his army gathered itself together andgirded on their armour with what speed they might, and each man saidto the other, 'If only we are in time to save Roland from death, whatblows we will strike for him. ' Alas, they are too late, too late! But before the march back there was something for the Emperor to do. He sent for his head cook to appear in his presence, and he deliveredthe traitor Ganélon into his custody, and told him to treat hisprisoner as he liked, for he had shown himself unworthy to mix withwarriors. So the head cook did as he pleased with him, and beat himwith sticks and put a heavy chain about his neck. And thus he guardedhim till Charles came back. How tall the mountains seemed to the returning army! how deep thevalleys, and how swift the streams! but all the while the trumpetswere sounded, that Roland might hear them and take heart. And as herode, Charles had only one thought, 'If Roland is slain, shall I findone man alive?' Roland stood looking at the mountains and at the plains, and whereverhis eyes fell his dead comrades lay before him. Loudly he mournedtheir loss, and then he turned to Oliver, saying, 'Brother, we mustdie here with the rest of the Franks. ' He spurred his horse and blewhis horn, and dashed into the ranks of the foe, shouting 'Montjoie!Montjoie!' The remnant that was left closed eagerly round him, and thebattle-cries were fierce and loud. If Marsile and his host fledbefore them, others not less valiant remained behind, and Roland knewthat the hour of his doom was come. And in valour, Oliver was no whitbehind him, but flung himself into the thickest of the battle. It wasthe Caliph who gave Oliver his death blow. 'Charles made a mistakewhen he left you to guard these defiles, ' said he, 'but your life willpay for many that you have slain. ' But Oliver was not dead yet, andthe taunt of the Caliph stung his blood. With all the strength he hadleft, he swung his sword Hauteclair on high, and it came down upon theCaliph's helmet with a crash, cleaving it clean through. 'Ah, pagan, 'said he, 'you will never boast now of the prizes you have taken inbattle. ' Then 'Roland! Roland!' he cried, and Roland came. When he sawOliver before him, livid and bleeding, he swayed on his horse as if heshould faint. Oliver's sight was weak and troubled from loss of blood, and not hearing Roland's voice he mistook him for an enemy, and struckhim a hard blow on his helmet. This blow restored Roland to hissenses, and he sat upright. 'My friend, ' said he, 'why have you donethis? I am Roland, who loves you well, and never did I think you couldlift your hand against me. ' 'I hear you, ' answered Oliver, 'I hear you speak, but I cannot seeyou. If I have struck you, forgive me, for I knew it not. ' 'I forgive you from my heart, ' said Roland, and they embraced eachother for the last time. The agony of death was falling upon Oliver; his sight had failed, hishearing was fast failing too. Slowly he dismounted from his horse andlaid himself painfully on the ground, making, in a loud voice, theconfession of his sins. Then he prayed God to bless Charlemagne, fairFrance, and Roland his friend, and after that his soul left him. AndRoland returned and found him dead, and wept for him bitterly. At lasthe stood up and looked around. Of all the twenty thousand men, notone was left except himself, and Turpin and Gautier. And these threeplaced themselves shoulder to shoulder, and sent many an Infidel tojoin his dead brothers. But the wounds they received in their bodieswere without number, and at length the Archbishop tottered and fell. But they had not slain him yet: with a mighty struggle he rose to hisfeet and looked round for Roland. 'I am not conquered yet, ' he said;'a brave man dies but never surrenders. ' Then with his good sword herushed into the _mêlée_ dealing death around him. Roland fought askeenly as his friend, but the moments seemed long till Charles broughtthem help. Again he sounded his horn, though the wound in his headburst out afresh with his effort. And the Emperor heard it, andstopped for an instant on his march. 'My lords, ' he said, 'things aregoing badly with us; we shall lose my nephew Roland to-day, for I knowby the way he blows his horn that he has not long to live. Spur yourhorses, for I would fain see him before he dies. And let every trumpetin the army sound its loudest!' The Unbelievers heard the noise of thetrumpets, which echoed through the mountains and valleys, and theywhispered fearfully to each other, 'It is Charles who is coming, it isCharles!' It was their last chance, and a band of their best warriorsrode straight at Roland. At that sight the strength rushed back intohis veins, and he waited for them proudly. 'I will fight beside you, 'he said to Turpin, 'and till I am dead I will never leave you. Letthem strike as hard as they will; Durendal knows how to strike back. ' 'Shame be upon every man who does not fight his best, ' answered theArchbishop, 'for this is our last battle. Charles draws near, and willavenge us. ' The Infidels said afterwards that an army could not have wrought theruin that was done that day by the Archbishop and Roland. Veillantifreceived thirty wounds in his body and then fell dead under hismaster. But Roland leaped off, and smote the Saracens, who turned andfled before him. He was too weak to follow after them, and turned tosee if the Archbishop still breathed. Kneeling by his side he unlacedTurpin's golden helmet, and bound up his gaping wounds. Then hepressed him closely to his heart and laid him gently on the ground. 'Ofriend, we must take farewell of each other, now all our comrades havegone before us. But let us do all we can for their bodies, whichcannot be left lying here. I will myself go and seek their corpses, and bring them here and place them in rows before you. ' 'Go, ' answered the Archbishop, 'but do not stay long. Thanks be toGod, the victory remains with you and me. ' Alone Roland searched the battle-field; he went up the sides of themountains, he descended into the plains, and everywhere he saw thedead faces of his friends. One after another he brought them, and laidthem at the feet of Turpin, and at the sight of their faces theArchbishop wept sore. Then he held up his hand to bless them for thelast time. 'Noble lords, ' he said, 'you have fallen upon evil days. May God receive your souls into His Paradise. As for me, among all thepains I suffer, the worst is that never shall I see my Emperor again. ' Under a pine, close to a sweet-briar, the corpse of Oliver was lying, and Roland raised him in his arms and bare him to the Archbishop, where he laid him on a shield, near to the other peers. Then his heartbroke with a cry, and he fell fainting beside Oliver. At the sight ofRoland's grief the Archbishop's own sorrow grew double, and hestretched out his hand for the horn which lay near him. A stream randown the valley of Roncevalles, and he dragged himself towards it, tofetch water to revive Roland. But he was too weak from the blood hehad lost to reach the river, and he fell where he stood. 'Pardon formy sins, ' he said, and died, the servant of God and of Charles. Thecry was heard by Roland, who was slowly coming back to life, and herose to his feet and went to the dead Archbishop and crossed his handsupon his breast. 'Ah, noble Knight, ' he said, 'in God's hands I leaveyou, for never since the Apostles has He had a more faithful servant. May your soul henceforth be free from sorrow, and may the Gates ofParadise stand wide for you to enter in!' As he spoke, Roland knew that his own death was not far off. He madehis peace with God, and took his horn in one hand and Durendal in theother. Then he mounted a small hill where stood two pine trees, butfell almost unconscious as soon as he reached the top. But a Saracenwho had watched him, and had feigned to be dead, sprang up and seeinghim cried, 'Conquered! he is conquered, the nephew of Charles! and hisfamous sword will be carried into Arabia'; so he grasped Durendaltightly in his fist, and pulled Roland's beard in derision. If theSaracen had been wise he would have left Roland's beard alone, for athis touch the Count was brought back to consciousness. He felt hissword being taken from him, and with his horn, which was always besidehim, he struck the Saracen such a blow on his helmet that he droppedDurendal, and sank dead to the earth. 'Coward, ' said Roland, 'who hastold you that you might dare to set hands on Roland, living or dead?You were not worthy a blow from my horn. ' Still death was pressingcloser and closer, and Roland knew it. He rose panting for breath, hisface as white as if he was already in the grave, and took Durendal outof its scabbard. Ten times he struck it hard on a brown rock beforehim, but the steel never gave way. 'O my faithful Durendal, do youknow that the hour of our parting has come?' he cried. 'You havegained many battles for me, and won Charles many kingdoms. You shallnever serve another master after I am dead. ' Again he smote the rockwith all his force, but the steel of Durendal glanced aside. WhenRoland saw that he could not break it, he sat down and wept andlamented sore, calling back to him all the fights that they had foughttogether. Yet another time he struck, but the steel held good. Deathwas drawing nearer; what was he to do? Under a pine tree he laidhimself down to die, his head resting on the green grass, his faceturned towards the Infidels. Beneath him he placed Durendal and hishorn. Alone on the mountain, looking towards Spain, he made theconfession of his sins, and offered up his last prayer. Then he heldup his right hand, and the Angels came and bore his soul to Paradise. THE PURSUIT OF DIARMID _THE PURSUIT OF DIARMID_ Fionn, the son of Cumhaill, rose early from his bed and went and satupon the clearing of grass that stretched at the foot of the hill ofAllen, where was the favourite palace of the Irish Kings of Leinster. He had stolen out alone, while his attendants were sleeping, but soonhe was missed and two of his men followed him to the green plain. 'Why have you risen so early?' said Ossian as he came up. 'Since my wife died, ' answered Fionn, 'little sleep has come to me, and better I like to be sitting by the hill-side than to tossrestlessly between walls. ' 'Why did you not tell us?' answered Ossian, 'for there is not a girlin the whole land of Erin whom we would not have brought you by fairmeans or foul. ' Dearing, who had till now kept silence, then spoke. 'I myself know ofa wife who would be a fitting mate even for Fionn, son ofCumhaill--Grania, the daughter of Cormac, who is fairer of speech andform than the daughters of other men. ' Fionn looked up quickly at Dearing's words. 'There has been strife for long between me and Cormac, ' said he, 'andit is not seemly that I should ask anything of him which might berefused. Therefore go you and Ossian and, as from yourselves, see ifthis marriage pleases him. It were better that he should refuse you, rather than me. ' 'Farewell then, ' said Ossian, 'but let no man know of our journey tillwe come back again. ' So the two went their ways, and found Cormac, King of Erin, holding agreat council on a wide plain, with the chiefs and the great noblesgathered before him. He welcomed Ossian and Dearing with courtesy, andas he felt sure they bore some message, he bade the council meet againon the morrow. When the nobles and chiefs had betaken themselves totheir homes, Ossian told the King of Erin that they had come to knowhis thoughts as to a marriage between his daughter and Fionn, son ofCumhaill. 'There is not the son of a king or of a great prince, a hero or achampion in the whole of Erin, ' answered Cormac, 'whom my daughter hasnot refused to wed, and it is I whom all hold guilty for it, though itis none of my doing. Therefore betake yourselves to my daughter, andshe will speak for herself. It is better that you be displeased withher than with me. ' Thereupon Ossian and Dearing were led by the King to the dwelling ofthe women, and they found Grania lying on a high couch. 'Here, OGrania, ' said the King, 'are two of the men of Fionn, the son ofCumhaill, and they have come to ask you as wife for him. What is youranswer?' 'If he be a fitting son-in-law for you, why should he not be a fittinghusband for me?' said Grania. And at her words, her father ordered abanquet to be made in the palace for Ossian and Dearing, and sent themback to Fionn with a message summoning him to a tryst in a fortnight'stime. When Ossian and Dearing were returned into Kildare, they found Fionnand his men, the Fenians, on the hill of Allen, and they told themtheir tale from the beginning to end. And the heart of Fionn grewlight as he heard it, and the fortnight of waiting stretched longbefore him. But everything wears away at last, and so did thosefifteen days; and on the last, Fionn assembled seven battalions of hisFenians from wherever they might be, and they set forth in troopsfor the great plain where Cormac, King of Erin, had given them tryst. [Illustration: GRANIA QUESTIONS THE DRUID] The King had made ready a splendid feast, and welcomed the new-comersgladly, and they ate and drank together. When the feast was over theDruid Derry sang songs before Grania, and she, knowing he was a man ofwisdom, asked him why Fionn had come thither. 'If you know not that, 'said the Druid, 'it is no wonder that I know it not. ' 'I wish to learn it from you, ' answered Grania. 'Well then, ' replied the Druid, 'it is to ask you for wife that he iscome. ' 'I marvel, ' said Grania, 'that it is not for Ossian that he asks me. For my father himself is not as old as Fionn. But tell me, I pray you, who is that softly spoken man with the curling black hair and ruddycountenance, that sits on the left hand of Ossian, the son of Fionn?' 'That is Diarmid, son of Dowd, the best lover in the whole world. ' 'It is a goodly company, ' said Grania, and ordered her lady to bringher the golden goblet chased with jewels. When it was brought shefilled it up with the drink of nine times nine men, then bade herhandmaid carry it to Fionn and say that she had sent it to him, andthat he was to drink from it. Fionn took the goblet with joy, but nosooner had he drunk than he fell down into a deep slumber; and thesame thing befel also Cormac, and Cormac's wife, and as many as drankof the goblet sent by Grania. When all were sleeping soundly, she rose softly and said to Ossian, 'Imarvel that Fionn should ask such a wife as I, for it were fitter thathe should give me a husband of my own age than a man older than myfather. ' 'Say not so, O Grania, ' answered Ossian, 'for if Fionn were to hearyou, he would not have you, neither should I dare to ask for you. ' 'Then you will not listen to word of marriage from me?' asked Grania. 'I will not, ' answered Ossian, 'for I must not lay my hand on whatFionn has looked on. ' Then Grania turned her face to Diarmid Dowd and what she said was, 'Will you receive courtship from me, O Son of Dowd, since Ossian willnot receive it?' 'I will not, ' answered Diarmid, 'for whatever woman is betrothed toFionn, I may not take her. ' 'I will put you under bonds of destruction, O Diarmid, ' said Grania, 'if you take me not out of this house to-night. ' 'Those are indeed evil bonds, ' answered Diarmid, 'and wherefore haveyou laid them on me, seeing there is no man less worthy to be loved byyou than myself?' 'Not so, O son of Dowd, ' said Grania, 'and I will tell you wherefore. ' 'One day the King of Erin held a muster on the great plain of Tara, and Fionn and his seven battalions were there. And a goaling match wasplayed, and all took part, save only the King, and Fionn, and myselfand you, O Diarmid. We watched till the game was going against the menof the kingdom of Erin, then you rose, and, taking the pole of the manwho was standing by, threw him to the ground, and, joining the others, did thrice win the goal from the warriors of Tara. And I turned thelight of my eyes upon you that day, and I never gave that love to anyother from that time to this, and will not for ever. So to-night wewill pass through my wicket-gate, and take heed you follow me. ' After she had spoken, Diarmid turned to Ossian and his companions. 'What shall I do, O Ossian, with the bonds that have been laid on me?' 'Follow Grania, ' said Ossian, 'and keep away from the wiles of Fionn. ' 'Is that the counsel of you all to me?' asked Diarmid. 'It is the counsel of us all, ' said they. Then Diarmid bade them farewell, and went to the top of the Fort, andput the shafts of his two javelins under him, and rose like a birdinto the air, and found himself on the plain where Grania met him. 'Itrow, O Grania, ' said he, 'this is an evil course upon which you arecome, for I know not to which corner of Erin I can take you. Return tothe town, and Fionn will never harm you. ' 'I will never go back, ' answered Grania, 'and nothing save death shallpart us. ' 'Then go forward, ' said Diarmid. The town was a mile behind them when Grania stopped. 'I am weary, sonof O'Dowd. ' 'It is a good time to weary, Grania, for your father's house is stillnigh at hand, and I give you my word as a warrior that I will nevercarry you or any woman. ' 'You need not do that, ' answered Grania, 'for my father's horses arein a fenced meadow by themselves, and have chariots behind them. Goand bring two horses and a chariot, and I will wait for you here. ' And Diarmid did what Grania bade him, and he brought two of thehorses, and they journeyed together as far as Athlone. 'It is the easier for Fionn to follow our track, ' said Diarmid atlast, 'now we have the horses. ' 'Then leave them, ' cried Grania, 'one on each side of the stream, andwe will travel on foot. ' So they went on till they reached Galway, andthere Diarmid cut down a grove, and made a palisade with seven doorsof wattles, and gathered together the tops of the birch trees and softrushes for a bed for Grania. * * * * * When Fionn and all that were in Tara awoke and found that Diarmid andGrania were not among them, a burning rage seized upon Fionn. At oncehe sent out trackers before him, and he followed them himself withhis men, till they reached the land of Connaught. 'Ah, well I knowwhere Grania and Diarmid shall be sought, ' cried Fionn. And Ossian andDearing heard him, and said to each other, 'We must send Diarmid awarning, lest he should be taken. Look where Bran is, the hound ofFionn, and he shall take it, for he does not love Fionn better than heloves Diarmid, so, Oscar, tell him to go to Diarmid who is in Derry. 'And Oscar told that to Bran, and Bran understood, and stole round tothe back part of the army where Fionn might not see him; then hebounded away to Derry and thrust his head into Diarmid's bosom as helay asleep. At that Diarmid awoke and sprang up and woke Grania, and told her thatBran had come, which was a token that Fionn himself was coming. 'Flythen, ' said Grania; but Diarmid would not fly. 'He may take me now, 'said he, 'seeing he must take me some time. ' At his words Grania shookwith fear, and Bran departed. All this while the friends of Diarmid took counsel together, and theydreaded lest Bran had not found them, and they resolved to give themanother warning. So they bade the henchman Feargus to give threeshouts, for every shout could be heard over three counties. AndDiarmid heard them, and awoke Grania, and told her that it was awarning they had sent him of Fionn. 'Then take that warning, ' saidshe. 'I will not, ' answered Diarmid, 'but will stay in this wood tillFionn comes. ' And Grania trembled when she heard him. By-and-by the trackers came back to Fionn with news that they had seenDiarmid and Grania, and though Ossian and Diarmid's friends tried topersuade Fionn that the men had been mistaken, Fionn was not to bedeceived. 'Well did I know the meaning of the three shouts of Feargus, and why you sent Bran, my own hound, away. But it shall profit himnothing, for Diarmid shall not leave Derry till he has paid me forevery slight he has put upon me. ' 'Great foolishness it is of you, O Fionn, ' said Oscar, 'to think thatDiarmid would stay in this plain waiting to have his head taken fromhim. ' 'Who else would have cut down the trees, and have made a palisade ofthem, and cut seven doors in it? Speak, O Diarmid, is the truth withme or with Oscar?' 'With you, O Fionn, ' said Diarmid, 'and truly I and Grania are here. ' When he heard this, Fionn bade his men surround Diarmid and take him, and Diarmid rose up and kissed Grania three times in presence of Fionnand his men, and Fionn, seeing that, swore that Diarmid should pay forthose kisses with his head. But Angus, the foster-father of Diarmid, knew in what straits hisfoster-son was, and he stole secretly to the place where Diarmid washidden with Grania, and asked him what he had done to bring his headinto such danger. 'This, ' said Diarmid; 'Grania, the daughter ofCormac, King of Erin, has fled with me against my will to escapemarriage with Fionn. ' 'Then let one of you come under my mantle, ' answered Angus, 'and Iwill carry you out of your prison. ' 'Take Grania, ' answered Diarmid. 'If I live, then will I follow you, but if not, carry her to her father, and let him deal with her asseems good. ' After that Angus put Grania under his mantle and they went their ways, and neither Fionn nor his Fenians knew of it. When Angus and Grania had left him, Diarmid girded his arms upon him, and standing at one of the seven wattled doors, asked who stoodbehind. 'No foe to you, ' answered a voice, 'but Ossian, the son ofFionn, and Oscar, the son of Ossian, and others who are your friends. Come out, and none will do you hurt. ' 'I will not open the door until I find out where Fionn himself is. 'And so it befel at six of the doors, and Diarmid would not open them, lest his friends should come under the wrath of Fionn. But as he drewnear the seventh, and put his question, the answer came loud: 'Hereare Fionn, the son of Cumhaill, and four hundred of his servants, andwe bear you no love, and if you come out we will tear your bones insunder. ' 'I pledge my word, ' said Diarmid, 'that yours is the first door bywhich I will pass, ' and he rose into the air on the shafts of hisjavelins, with a bound as light as a bird's, and went far beyond Fionnand his people, and they knew nothing of it. Then he looked back andshouted that he had got the better of them, and followed after thetrack of Angus and Grania. He found them warm in a hut with a fire in it, watching a wild boarroasting on a spit, and Grania's soul almost left her body for joy atseeing Diarmid. They told their stories before the fire, and whenmorning broke Angus rose and said to Diarmid, 'I must now depart, Oson of O'Dowd, and this counsel I leave you. Go not into a tree havingbut one trunk, when you fly before Fionn. And go not to a cave of theearth having only one door, or to an island which can only be reachedby one channel. And in whatever place you cook your meal, there eat itnot; and in whatever place you eat, there lie not; and in whateverplace you lie down to sleep, there rise not on the morrow. ' So saying, he bade them farewell, and went his way. The next day Diarmid and Grania journeyed up the Shannon, and theykilled a salmon, and crossed the river to eat it, as Angus had toldthem. Soon they met a youth called Muadan, who wished to take servicewith them; and he was strong, and carried them over the rivers acrosstheir path. When evening came they found a cave, where Muadan spreadout soft rushes and birch twigs for Diarmid and Grania to lie on, andas soon as they were asleep he stole into the next wood, and broke along straight rod from a tree, and put a hair line and a hook uponit, and a holly berry on the rod, and fished in the stream. In threecasts he had taken three fish. That night they ate a good supper, andwhile Diarmid and Grania slept, Muadan kept watch for them. At dawn Diarmid woke Grania and told her to watch while Muadan slept, as he was going to climb a hill near by, and see where they had bestgo. He soon stood on the top and looked round about him. In front of himwas a great company of ships bearing towards him out of the west. Theylanded at the foot of the hill where Diarmid stood, and he swiftly randown to meet them and to ask of what country they were. 'We are three royal chiefs, ' said they, 'and are sent by Fionn to takean enemy of his whom he has outlawed, called Diarmid O'Dowd. And withus are three fierce hounds whom we will loose upon his track. Fireburns them not, nor water drowns them, nor weapons wound them, and ofus there are two thousand men. Moreover, tell us who you yourself are, and if you have any tidings of the son of O'Dowd. ' 'I am but a warrior walking the world with the strength of my arm andthe blade of my sword. But I warn you, you will have no common man todeal with if you meet Diarmid, whom but yesterday I saw. ' 'Well, no one has been found yet, ' said they. 'Is there wine in your ships?' asked Diarmid. 'There is, ' answered they. 'If you would bring a tun of it here, I would do a trick for you. ' Sothe wine was sent for, and Diarmid raised the cask up and drank fromit, and took it up to the top of the hill and stood on it, and itglided with him to the bottom. And that trick he did thrice, standingon the tun as it came and went. But the strangers only scoffed, andthey told him they could do a much better trick than that, and one ofthem jumped on the tun. Then, before it could move, Diarmid gave thetun a kick, and the young man fell, and the tun rolled over andcrushed him. And in like manner he did to many more, and the rest fledback to their ships. The next morning they came to Diarmid where he stood on the hill, andhe asked if they would like him to show them any more tricks, but theysaid they would rather hear some news of Diarmid first. 'I have seen aman who met him to-day, ' answered Diarmid, and thereupon he laid hisweapons on the ground and bounded upwards upon his javelin, comingdown lightly beyond the host. 'If you call that a feat, then you have never seen a feat, ' said ayoung warrior of the green Fenians--for so were they called from thecolour of their armour. And he rose in like manner on his javelin andcame down heavily on it, and it pierced his heart. Diarmid drew outthe javelin, and another man took it and tried to do the same thing, and he also was slain, and so to the number of fifty. And they went totheir ships while Diarmid returned to Muadan and Grania. As soon as Diarmid awoke he went to the forest and cut two forkedpoles, which he took to the hill and placed upright, and he balancedthe sword of Angus across the top. Then he rose lightly over and camedown safely over it. 'Is there any man among you who can do that?'asked he of the men who had come up from their ships. 'That is a foolish question, ' answered one, 'for no man ever did afeat in Erin which one of us could not do, ' and he arose and leaptover the sword, but his foot caught in it, and he was cut in half. After that others tried, but none jumped that sword and lived. 'Haveyou any tidings of the son of O'Dowd?' asked the rest at last. 'I have seen him that saw him to-day, ' answered Diarmid. 'I will seektidings of him to-night. ' And he returned to Grania. When the sun rose Diarmid put on his coat of mail which no sword couldpierce, and girded on the sword of Angus, and took his two javelins, whose stroke none could cure. Grania trembled at this brave sight, butDiarmid soothed her fears, and went off to meet the Fenians. 'What tidings of the son of O'Dowd?' said they. 'Show us where he is, that we may take his head to Fionn. ' 'The body and life of Diarmid are under my protection, and I will notbetray him. ' 'Then we will take your head, as Fionn is your enemy, ' said they. 'Take it if you can, ' answered Diarmid, and he drew his sword andstruck at the head of the man next him, and it rolled away from thebody. Then he rushed on the host, and slew them right and left, andnone lived to tell the tale but the three green chiefs and a few menwho went back to their ships. And they returned the next morning andrenewed the fight, but Diarmid vanquished them, and binding them fast, left them where they were. For he knew that there were only four menin the world that could loose them. After this Diarmid called to Grania and Muadan to come with him, andthey travelled till Grania grew weary, and Muadan carried her on hisback to the foot of a great mountain. And there they rested on thebank of the stream. Meanwhile the few men who had been left alive abandoned their ship, and sought the three chiefs who were lying bound on the hill. Theytried to loosen the bands of the captives, but only drew them tighter. Soon they saw the witch-messenger of Fionn coming over the tops of thehills skimming from one to the other as lightly as a swallow. 'Who has made this great slaughter?' said she. 'Who are you that ask?' said they. 'I am Deirdre, the witch-messenger of Fionn, and he has sent me tolook for you. ' 'We know not who the man was, ' answered they, 'but his hair was blackand curly, and his countenance ruddy. And he has bound our threechiefs, so that we cannot loose them. ' 'It was Diarmid himself, ' said she; 'so loosen your hounds on histrack, and I will send Fionn and his Fenians to help you. ' The men went down to their ships, and brought out their hounds, andloosened them on the track of Diarmid. The hounds made straight forthe door of the cave, and the men followed them; and the hounds leftthe cave, and set forth westwards. But Diarmid knew not of their coming till he saw silken bannerswaving, and three mighty warriors marching at the head. And he wasfilled with hatred of them, and went his ways, and Muadan took Graniaon his back and bore her a mile along the mountain. It was not long before they heard the hound coming, and Muadan badeDiarmid follow Grania, and he would keep the hound at bay. And when hehad slain the hound, he departed after Diarmid and Grania. Then the second hound was loosened, and Diarmid waited till he cameclose, so that he could take sure aim; and he cast his javelin intothe hound and it fell dead like its fellow, and having drawn hisjavelin, he followed after Grania. They had not gone much farther before the third hound was upon them. He bounded straight over the head of Diarmid, and would have seizedGrania, but Diarmid took hold of his two hind legs, and swung him sofiercely against a rock that he was slain on the spot. And when thatwas done, Diarmid put on his arms, and slipped his little finger intothe silken string of the javelin, and cast it straight at a youth in agreen mantle that had outstripped his fellows, and slew him; and so tothe rest, while Deirdre, the witch, wheeled and hovered about themall. Now when news of the green Fenians that were bound by Diarmid reachedFionn he summoned his men, and they took the shortest ways till theyreached the hill of slaughter. Then Fionn spoke, and what he said was, 'O Ossian, loose the three chiefs for me. ' 'I will not, ' replied Ossian, 'for Diarmid bound me not to loose anywarrior that he should bind. ' 'O Oscar, loose them, ' said Fionn. 'Nay, ' answered Oscar, 'rather would I place more bands upon them. 'And so said the other two, and, before their eyes, the chiefs died oftheir bondage. So Fionn ordered their graves to be dug, and their flaglaid upon their stone, and the heart of Fionn was heavy. He raised his head and saw drawing near Deirdre, the witch, her legstrembling, her tongue raving, and her eyes dropping out of her head. 'I have great and evil tidings for you, ' said she, and she told him ofall the slaughter Diarmid had made, and how she herself had hardlyescaped. 'Whither went the son of O'Dowd?' asked Fionn. 'I know not, ' said she. At that Fionn and his Fenians departed, andwandered far before they could hear news of Diarmid. On the road that led to the county of Galway, Fionn saw fifty stoutwarriors coming towards him. 'I know not who they are, ' said Fionn, 'yet I think they are enemies of mine'; and, indeed, this proved to beso, for the leaders of the company told Fionn that his father andtheir fathers had fought in battle. 'Then you must give me payment forthe death of my father, ' said Fionn, 'and in return you shall havepower among the Fenians. ' 'But we have neither silver, nor gold, nor herds, O Fionn, ' answeredthe two young men. 'I want none of these, ' replied Fionn; 'the payment I ask is but thehead of a warrior, or a handful of berries from the magic tree ofDooros. ' 'Take counsel from me, ' cried Ossian, 'for it is no light matter tobring to Fionn that which he asks of you. The head is the head ofDiarmid, son of Dowd, and if there were two thousand of you instead offifty, Diarmid would not let it go. ' 'And what are the berries that Fionn asks of us?' said they. 'Those berries would never have been heard of but for the jealousy oftwo women of different tribes, each of whom swore that her husbandcould hurl a pole farther than the other. So all the rest of thetribes came out to take part in the goaling match, and the game lastedlong, and neither won a goal. At last the tribe of the Tuatha DeDenann saw that the Fenians were stronger than they, and they wentaway bearing their provisions with them--nuts, and apples, andfragrant berries. And as they passed near the river Moy one of theberries fell, and turned into a quicken tree. No disease or sicknesscan touch anyone who eats three of its berries, and were he a hundredyears old, the eater of them shall become no more than thirty. 'Since those days the tribe has set a guard over it. He is a crookedgiant, with an eye in the midst of his forehead. No weapon can woundhim, and he can only die of three strokes from his own iron club. Atnight he sleeps on the top of the tree, and by day watches at thefoot. Around him is a wilderness, and the Fenians dare not hunt there, for fear of that terrible one. These are the berries which Fionn asksof you. ' But Aod, the son of Andala, spoke and declared that he would ratherdie seeking those berries than return to his own land with his headbowed in shame. So he and Angus his cousin took farewell of Ossian andwent their ways, and as they drew near the forest they came on thetrack of Diarmid; and they followed to the tent, where they found himwith Grania. 'Who are you?' asked Diarmid. [Illustration: Diarmid Seizes The Giant's Club] 'We are Aod and Angus of the Clan Moirna, ' said Aod, 'and it isyour head that we seek, Diarmid, son of O'Dowd. For Fionn will eitherhave that, or a handful of berries from the quicken tree. ' 'Neither task is easy, ' answered Diarmid, 'and woe to him that fallsunder the power of Fionn. He it was who slew your father, and surelythat is payment enough. And whichever of those things you take him, you shall never have peace. ' 'What berries are those that Fionn wants?' asked Grania, 'and whycannot they be got for him?' Then Diarmid told her the story, and howthe country round was laid waste. 'But when Fionn put me under hisban, ' continued he, 'the giant gave me leave to hunt there if I would, but forbade me to touch the berries. And now, O children of Moirna, will you fight me or seek the berries?' 'We will fight you first, ' said they. They fought long and well, but Diarmid got the better of them both, and bound them on the spot where they fell. 'You struck valiantly, 'said Grania to Diarmid, 'but I vow that even if the children of Moirnago not after those berries, I will never rest in my bed till I haveeaten them. ' 'Force me not to break faith with the giant, ' answered Diarmid, 'forhe would not give them me more readily for that. ' 'Loose our bonds, ' said the children of Moirna, 'and we will go withyou, and give ourselves for your sake. ' 'Not so, ' answered Diarmid, 'for the sight of him might kill you. ' 'Then let us go to watch you fight, before you cut off our heads. ' AndDiarmid did so. They found the giant asleep before the tree, and Diarmid pushed himwith his foot. The giant raised his head and looked at him: 'Are you fain to breakpeace, O Diarmid?' 'Not I, ' answered he, 'but Grania my wife is ill, and she longs forthe taste of your berries, and it is to get a handful of them that Iam now come. ' 'If she should die, ' said the giant, 'she should have none. ' 'I may not do you treachery, ' replied Diarmid, 'therefore I tell you Iwill have them by fair means or foul. ' The giant having heard that, stood up and dealt Diarmid three mightystrokes with his club, so that he staggered. Then, flinging down hisweapons, he sprang upon the giant and grasped the club between hishands, hurling the giant to the ground by the weight of his body. Without giving him time to rise, Diarmid struck three blows with theclub at the giant's head and he died without a word. Aod and Angus had watched the combat, and now came forth. 'Bury thegiant under the brushwood of the forest, ' said Diarmid, 'so thatGrania may not see him, and then go and bring her to me, for I am veryweary. ' And the young men did so. 'There, Grania, are the berries you askedfor, ' said Diarmid when she came, but she swore that she would nottaste a berry except he plucked it for her. So he plucked the berriesfor her and for the children of Moirna, and they ate their fill ofthem. 'Now go, ' said he, 'take as many berries as you can to Fionn, and tell him that it was you who slew the giant. ' And they gave thanksto Diarmid and left him, and he and Grania went to sleep on the top ofthe tree where the sweetest berries grew. The children of Moirna reached Fionn, and bowed before him. 'We haveslain the giant, ' said they, 'and have brought you the berries, andnow we shall have peace for the death of our father. ' Fionn took theberries into his hand, and stooped down and smelt them. 'I swear, ' hecried, 'that it was Diarmid O'Dowd who gathered these berries, andfull sure I am that it was he who slew the giant. I will follow himto the quicken tree, and it shall profit you nothing to have broughtthe berries to me. ' With seven battalions of his Fenians, he marched along Diarmid's tracktill he reached the foot of the quicken tree, and finding the berrieswith no watch on them, they ate their fill. The sun was hot, and Fionnsaid he would stay at the foot of the tree till it grew cooler, aswell he knew that Diarmid was at the top. 'You judge foolishly, 'answered Ossian, 'to think that Diarmid would stay up there when heknows that you are bent on his death. ' In spite of the heat and his long march, Fionn could not sleep, andcalled for a chess-board, and bade Ossian play with him. Fionn was themost skilled, and at length he said, 'There is but one move that cansave you the game, O Ossian, and I dare all that are by to show youthat move. ' And in the top of the tree Diarmid heard him, and said, 'OOssian, why am I not there to show you?' 'It is worse for you to be here in the power of Fionn, than for Ossianto lack that move, ' answered Grania. But Diarmid plucked one of the berries, and aimed it at the man whichshould be moved, and Ossian moved it, and turned the game againstFionn. And so he did a second time, and a third, when Ossian was instraits, and he won the game and the Fenians sent up a great shout. 'I marvel not at your winning, O Ossian, seeing that Oscar is doinghis best for you, and that the skilled knowledge of Dearing, and theprompting of Diarmid, are all with you. ' 'Now your eyes must be blinded, O Fionn, to think that Diarmid wouldstay in that tree when you are beneath him. ' 'Which of us has the truth on his side, O Diarmid?' said Fionn, looking up. 'Never did you err in your wisdom, O Fionn, ' answered Diarmid, 'andtruly, I and Grania are here. ' Then, in presence of them all, hekissed Grania three times. 'Thou shalt give thy head for those threekisses, ' said Fionn. So Fionn and the four hundred that were with him surrounded thequicken tree, and he bade them on pain of death not to let Diarmidpass through them. Further, he promised to whichever man should go upthe tree and fetch down Diarmid, he would give him arms and armour, and whatever place his father held among the Fenians. But Angus heardwhat Fionn said, and being somewhat of a wizard, came to Diarmid'shelp, without being seen of the Fenians. And one man after anotherrolled down the tree. Howbeit, both Diarmid and Angus felt that this was no place forGrania, and Angus said he would take her with him. 'Take her, ' answered Diarmid; 'if I be alive this evening I willfollow you. If not, send Grania to her father at Tara. ' And with thatAngus bade farewell to Diarmid, and flung his magic mantle overhimself and Grania, and they passed out and no man knew aught of themtill they reached the river Boyne. When they were safely gone, Diarmid, son of O'Dowd, spoke from the topof the tree. 'I will go down to you, O Fionn, and to the Fenians, andwill deal slaughter and discomfiture upon you and your people, seeingthat I know your wish is to allow me no escape, but to work my deathafter some manner. Moreover, I have no friend who will help or protectme, since full often have I wrought havoc among the warriors of theworld, for love of you. For there never came on you battle or strait, but I would plunge into it for your sake, and for that of the Fenians. Therefore I swear, O Fionn, that thou shalt not get me for nothing. ' 'Diarmid speaks truth, ' said Oscar. 'Grant him, I pray you, mercy andforgiveness. ' [Illustration: Diarmid & Grania in the Quicken Tree] 'I will not, ' answered Fionn, 'till he has paid for every slight putupon me. ' 'It is a foul shame in thee to say that, ' said Oscar, 'and I pledgethe word of a soldier that unless the heavens fall upon me or theearth opens under my feet, I will not suffer you nor your Fenians tostrike him a single blow, and I will take him under my protection, andkeep him safe in spite of you all. Therefore, O Diarmid, come down outof the tree, since Fionn will not grant you mercy. 'I will pledge thatno evil will come to you to-day. ' So Diarmid rose, and stood upon the topmost bough of the tree, andleapt light and birdlike, by the shafts of his spears, and passed outfar beyond Fionn and the Fenians of Erin. And he and Oscar went theirway, and no tidings were heard of them till they reached Grania andAngus on the banks of the Boyne. After Diarmid and Oscar had departed, Fionn ordered a ship to be madeready, and as soon as it was done he marched on board with a thousandof his warriors and set sail for the north of Scotland. When hearrived at the harbour nearest the King's palace, he moored his shipand took the path to the palace, where the King received him kindly, and gave him food and drink. Then Fionn told the King why he was come. 'And truly you should give me a host, ' said he, 'for Diarmid it waswho slew your father and two brothers and many of your men besides. ' 'That is so, ' answered the King, 'and I will give you my two sons, with a thousand men to each of them. ' Joyful was Fionn to hear this, and he departed with his company, and nothing was known of them tillthey reached the Boyne, where Fionn challenged Diarmid and Angus tobattle. 'What shall I do touching this, O Oscar?' asked Diarmid. 'We will give them battle and slay them all, ' answered Oscar. On the morrow Diarmid and Oscar rose, and put on their armour and wenttheir way to the place of combat, where they bound the rims of theirshields together, so that they might not be parted in the fight. Nextthey proclaimed battle against Fionn, and the Scots said they wouldland and fight them first. They rushed together, and Diarmid passedunder them and through them and over them, as a whale would go throughsmall fish. And all of them fell by Diarmid and Oscar before nightcame, while they themselves had neither cut nor wound. When Fionn saw that great slaughter he and his men put out to sea, andsailed to the cave where dwelt an old woman, Fionn's nurse. And hetold her his story from the beginning. 'I will go with you, ' said she, 'and will practise magic against him. ' They came to the Boyne, and the witch threw magic over Fionn and hisFenians, so that the men of Erin knew not they were there; and thatday Diarmid was hunting alone, for he had parted from Oscar the daybefore. Now the witch knew this, and she flew to where a water-lilyleaf lay with a hole in the middle of it, and as the wind lifted theleaf from the surface of the water she cast deadly darts at Diarmidthrough the hole, and did him great hurt. And every evil that had comeupon him was little compared with that evil. Then he felt that unlesshe could strike her through the hole in the leaf she would slay him onthe spot; so he lay down on his back and took his javelin in his hand, and reached her through the hole, and she fell dead. After that he cut off her head and carried it with him to Angus. The next day Diarmid rose early and Angus with him, and they went toFionn and asked if he would make peace with Diarmid, and also toCormac, King of Erin, with a like question; and they agreed thereto, and asked Diarmid what terms he wanted. Diarmid demanded several ofthe best baronies in Ireland, and he got them, and they blotted outall Diarmid had done during the sixteen years of his outlawry, andCormac gave his other daughter to Fionn that he might let Diarmid be, and there was peace for many years, and Diarmid prospered mightily, and had four sons and one daughter. THE GREEN BOAR But one day a restless spirit seized on Grania, and she told Diarmidthat it was a shame to them that the two greatest men in Erin, Cormacand Fionn, had never visited their house, and she wished to give asplendid feast and to bid them to it. And this was done: for a yearGrania and her daughter were preparing the feast, and when it wasready the guests came, and stayed feasting for a year. It was on the last day of the year that in his sleep Diarmid heard thevoice of a dog that caused him to start and to wake Grania. 'What isthe matter?' said she, and Diarmid told her. 'May you be kept safely, 'answered Grania; 'lie down again. ' So Diarmid lay down, but no sleepwould come to him, and by-and-by he heard the hound's voice again, butagain Grania kept him from seeking it. This time he fell into a deepslumber, and a third time the hound bayed, and he woke and said toGrania, 'Now it is day, and I will go. ' 'Well, then, ' said she, 'takeyour large sword and the red javelin. ' But Diarmid answered, 'No, Iwill take the little sword that bites, and the small javelin, and myfavourite hound on a chain. ' So he went without stopping to the top of a mountain, where Fionnstood alone. Diarmid asked if he was hunting, and Fionn said no, butthat after midnight a company of Fenians had come out, and one of thehounds had crossed the track of the wild boar of Ben Gulbain, whichhad slain thirty Fenians that morning. 'He is even now coming up this mountain against us, ' added he, 'so letus leave the place. ' 'I will never leave the place for him, ' answered Diarmid. 'Know you not that when you were a child a wizard prophesied that youshould live as long as a green boar without ears or tail, and that itwas by him that you should fall at last?' 'No, I knew nothing of these things, but for all that I will not leavethe mountain, ' answered Diarmid. And Fionn went his way, and Diarmidstood alone on the top. 'It was to slay me that you made this hunt, OFionn; and if it is fated that I die here, die I must. ' The wild boar came tearing up the mountain, and behind him followedthe Fenians. Diarmid slipped his hound, but it profited him nothing, for he did not await the boar, but fled before him. 'Woe unto him thatdoeth not the counsel of a good wife, ' said Diarmid to himself, 'forGrania bade me take my best hound and my red javelin. ' Then he aimedcarefully at the boar's head, and smote him in the middle of hisforehead; but he did not so much as cut one of his bristles, far lesspierce his skin. At that Diarmid felt his heart quail like those ofweaker men, and he drew his sword and dealt the boar a stout blow, butthe sword broke in two; and the beast stood unharmed. With a spring hethrew himself upon Diarmid, so that he tripped and fell, and somehowwhen he rose up he was sitting astride the back of the boar, with hisface looking towards the tail. The boar tried to fling him off butcould not, though he rushed down the hill and jumped three timesbackwards and forwards out of the river at the foot; but Diarmid neverstirred, and at last the boar dashed up the hill again, and Diarmidfell from his back. Then the boar sprang upon Diarmid with a mightyspring, and wounded him mortally; but Diarmid swung his brokensword about his head as he lay, and hit the boar such a blow on hishead that where he stood there he fell dead. [Illustration: The Death of Diarmid] Not long after that Fionn and his Fenians came up and watched Diarmid, who was dying fast. 'It pleases me well to see you in that plight, ODiarmid, ' said Fionn, 'and I grieve that all the fair women of Erincannot see you also. ' 'If you wished you could still heal me, O Fionn, ' answered Diarmid. 'How could I heal you, O Diarmid?' 'Easily, ' answered Diarmid. 'Was it not given to you that whoevershould drink from the palms of your hands should become young andwhole again?' 'You have not deserved that I should give you that drink, ' said Fionn. 'That is not true, O Fionn, well have I deserved it of you. Was it notI who avenged you and slew fifty of your enemies who tried to set onfire the house wherein you were holding your great feast? Had I askedyou for such a drink then, you would have given it to me, and now Ideserve it no less. ' 'Not so, ' answered Fionn; 'you have deserved ill at my hands sincethat time, and little reason have I to give you drinks or any goodthing. For did you not bear away Grania from me before all the men ofErin the night you were set as guard over her in Tara?' 'The guilt of that was not mine, O Fionn, but Grania besought me, elseI would not have failed to keep my charge for all the bonds in theworld. And well do I deserve you should give me a drink, for many isthe day since I came among the Fenians in which I have perilled mylife for your sake. Therefore you should not do me this foultreachery. And soon a dire defeat will come upon the Fenians, and fewchildren will be left to them to carry on the race. It is not for youthat I grieve, O Fionn, but for Ossian and for Oscar, and for therest of my faithful comrades. And you shall lack me sorely yet, OFionn. ' 'I am near of kin to you, O Fionn, ' said Oscar, 'but you shall not doDiarmid this wrong. Further, I swear that were any other prince in theworld to have done this to Diarmid, we would have seen whose hand wasstrongest and who should bring him a drink. ' 'I know no well upon this mountain, ' answered Fionn. 'That is not true, ' replied Diarmid, 'for nine paces from this is thebest well of pure water in the world. ' So Fionn went to the well and filled his palms with water; but he hadonly come half way to where Diarmid lay when he let the water run downbetween his fingers. 'The water would not stay in my hands, ' he said, as he reached the rest. 'You spilt it of your will, ' answered Diarmid. For the second time Fionn set out to fetch the water, but returning hethought of Grania, and let it run upon the ground. Diarmid saw andsighed piteously. 'I swear by my sword, ' cried Oscar, 'that if thistime you bring not that water either you or I, O Fionn, shall leaveour body here. ' And Fionn trembled when he heard those words, and brought back thewater, but as he came to his side the life went out of Diarmid. Andthe company of the Fenians raised three exceeding great cries; whileOscar looked fiercely at Fionn, and told him it had been better forthe Fenians had Fionn himself died, and not Diarmid. Then Fionn leftthe top of the mountain, leading Diarmid's hound, and his Fenians cameafter. But Ossian and Oscar and two others returned and laid theirfour mantles over Diarmid, and when they had done that they went theirways after Fionn. Now Grania was standing on the ramparts of her house when she sawFionn and the Fenians approaching. She said to herself that if Diarmidwere alive it was not Fionn who would lead his hound, and at thisthought she swooned and fell heavily over the battlements. Ossian'sheart was full of pity, and he bade Fionn and the Fenians to go, andran himself to help her, but she lifted her head and begged that Fionnwould leave her the hound of Diarmid. Fionn said No, he would not; butOssian took the stag-hound from Fionn's hand and put it into Grania's, and then followed after the Fenians. When they had gone, Grania uttered a loud and grievous cry that washeard far round, so that the people came to her and asked her what wasthe matter, and when she told them that Diarmid was dead they sat downand wailed also. After that Grania sent five hundred men to bring herthe body of Diarmid. That night it was shown to Angus in a dream that Diarmid was dead onBen Gulbain; and he was carried by the wind, and reached the place atthe same moment as Grania's men, who knew him, and held out theinsides of their shields to him in token of peace. And they sent upthree exceeding great cries, which were heard even at the gates ofheaven. Then Angus spoke: 'There has not been one night since I took you, aninfant of nine months old, to the Boyne that I have not watched overyou, O Diarmid, until last night, when Fionn did you basely to death, for all you were at peace with him. ' And he told Grania's men hehimself would bear Diarmid's body to the Boyne. So the dead man wasplaced on a gilded bier with his javelins over him pointed upwards, and the men of Grania returned to their mistress, and said as Angushad bade them. The first thing she did was to send messengers to her sons, who livedeach in his own house, and bade them come with their followings to thehouse of Grania, for that their father Diarmid had been foully slainby Fionn. They all came forthwith, and after they had eaten and drunkshe pointed to the weapons and arms of Diarmid, and said they weretheirs, and by them they should learn all arts of brave men, till theyshould reach their full strength, and after that they should avengethemselves on Fionn. The sayings of Grania were whispered in the ears of Fionn, and a greatfear fell upon him. He called his Fenians together, and told them howthe sons of Diarmid had gone to their mother, and returned to theirown homes again. 'It is to rebel against me that they have done this, 'and he asked counsel in the matter. 'The guilt is yours and no otherman's, ' spoke Ossian, 'and we will not stand by you, for you slewDiarmid in time of peace. ' Without Ossian, Oscar, and their men Fionn knew that he could notconquer Grania, and resolved to try what cunning would do. So heslipped away secretly, and went to her house, and greeted her withsoft words, in reply to her bitter ones. But so cunning was he that atlast her wrath broke down, and she agreed to go with him back to hisFenians. It was a long while before the Fenians knew who that could be walkingby the side of Fionn, but when they did they laughed and mocked tillGrania bowed her head for shame. 'This time, O Fionn, you will guardher well, ' said Ossian. For seven years the sons of Diarmid exercised themselves in all theskill of a warrior, and then they came back to Grania's house. Therethey learned how long ago Grania had fled with Fionn, and in wraththey set out to seek Fionn, and proclaimed battle against him. Fionnsent Dearing to ask how many men it would take to fight them, and theyanswered that each one of them would fight a hundred. So Fionn broughtfour hundred men, and the young men rushed under them and through themand over them, till there was not a man left. 'What shall we doconcerning these youths, O Grania, ' said Fionn, 'for I have not menenough to go through many such fights?' 'I will visit them, ' answered Grania, 'and will try to make peacebetween you. ' And Fionn bade her offer them terms such as no man then living wouldrefuse, yet for long the young men did refuse them. But at the lastthe prayers of Grania prevailed, and peace was made, and Fionn andGrania lived together till they died. [3] [Footnote 3: From the Transactions of the Ossianic Society. ] SOME ADVENTURES OF WILLIAM SHORT NOSE _SOME_ _ADVENTURES OF WILLIAM SHORT NOSE_ William Short Nose was also styled William of Orange, quite adifferent man from the one who came to be King of England, althoughthey both took their title from the same small town in the south ofFrance. This William of Orange spent his life battling with theSaracens in the south of France, and a very hard task he had, fortheir numbers seemed endless, and as fast as one army was beatenanother was gathered together. Now by a great effort the Infidels had been driven back south in theyear 732, but before a hundred years had passed they had again crossedthe Pyrenees and were streaming over France, south of the Loire, and, what was worse, the men of Gascony were rising too. Someone had tomeet the enemy and to crush the rebels, and of all the subjects ofKing Louis, the son of the Emperor Charles, no one was so fit to leadthe army of the Franks as William Short Nose, Count of Orange, husbandof the Lady Gibourc. It was at the Aliscans that he met them, and a great host they were, spreading over the country till whichever way you looked you saw menflocking round the Golden Dragon, which was the banner of theSaracens. But it was not Count William's way to think about numbers, and he ordered his trumpeters to sound the charge. Spurring his horse, he dashed from one part of the fight to the other, striking andkilling as he went, and heeding as little the wounds that he got asthose that he gave, and _they_ were many. The Franks whom he ledfollowed after him, and slew the Pagans as they came on; but theChristians were in comparison but a handful, and their enemies as thesands of the sea. The young warriors whom William had brought with himwere prisoners or dying men, and from far he saw Vivian, whom he lovedthe best, charging a multitude with his naked sword. 'Montjoie!Montjoie!' cried he, 'O noble Count! O Bertrand my cousin, come to myaid! O my Lady Gibourc, never more shall my eyes look upon you!' Bertrand heard and pressed to his side. 'Ride to the river, ' he said, 'and I will protect you with my life'; but Vivian was too weak even tosit on his horse, and fell half fainting at the feet of Bertrand. At this moment there rode at them a large troop of Saracens, headed bytheir King Haucebier, and the Christian Knights knew that all waslost. 'It is too late now for me to think of life, ' said Vivian, 'butI will die fighting, ' and again they faced their enemies tillBertrand's horse was killed under him. Then Vivian seized the horse ofa dead Infidel, and thrust the bridle into Bertrand's hand, 'Fly, forGod's sake, it is your only chance. Where is my uncle? If he is deadwe have lost the battle. ' But Bertrand did not fly, though every instant made the danger moredeadly. 'If I forsake you, if I take flight, ' he said, 'I shall bringeternal shame upon myself. ' 'No, no, ' cried Vivian, 'seek my uncle down there in the Aliscans, andbring him to my aid. ' 'Never till my sword breaks, ' answered Bertrand, and laid about himharder than ever. And to their joy they heard a war cry sounding intheir ears, and five Frankish Counts, cousins of Vivian and ofBertrand, galloped up. Fight they did with all their might, but nonefought like Vivian. 'Heavens! what a warrior!' cried the Counts asthey saw his blows, while the Saracens asked themselves if the manwhom they had killed at mid-day had been brought back to life by thehelp of devils. 'If we let them escape now we shall be covered withshame before Mahomet, ' said they, 'but ere night falls William shallacknowledge that he is conquered. ' 'Indeed!' said Bertrand, and with his cousins he fell upon them tillthey fled. The Counts were victors on this field, but, wounded and weary as theywere, another combat lay before them, for a force of twenty thousandSaracens was advancing from the valley. Their hearts never failedthem, but they had no strength left; the young Counts were all takenprisoners, except Vivian, who was left for dead by the side of afountain where he had been struck down. 'O Father in Heaven, ' he said, feeling his life going from him, 'forgive me my sins, and help myuncle, if it is Thy holy will. ' William Short Nose was still fighting, though he knew that the victorylay with the Unbelievers and their hosts. 'We are beaten, ' he said tothe fourteen faithful comrades that stood by him. 'Listen as you will, no sound of our war cry can be heard. But by the Holy Rood, theInfidels will know no rest while I am alive. I will give myforefathers no cause for shame, and the minstrels shall not tell intheir songs how I fell back before the enemy. ' They then gave battle once more, and fought valiantly, till all laydead upon the ground, save only William himself. Now the Count knew that if the Infidel was ever to be vanquished andbeaten out of fair France he must take heed of his own life, for thetask was his and no other man's; so he turned his horse's head towardsOrange, and then stopped, for he saw a troop of freshly landedSaracens approaching him along the same road. 'The whole world is full of these Infidels!' he cried in anger;'cursed be the day when they were born. Fair God, you alone can saveme. My Lady Gibourc, shall I ever again behold you? My good horse, 'added he, 'you are very tired. If you had had only five hours' rest, Iwould have led you to the charge; but I see plainly that I can get nohelp from you, and I cannot blame you for it, as you have served mewell all day, and for this I thank you greatly. If ever we reachOrange you shall wear no saddle for twenty days, your food shall bethe finest corn, and you shall drink out of a golden trough. But howshould I bear it if the Pagans captured you and carried you to Spain?' And the horse understood as well as a man, and he threw up his head, and pawed the ground, and his strength came back to him as of old. Atthis sight William Short Nose felt more glad than if he had been givenfourteen cities. But no sooner had he entered a valley that led along the road toOrange than he saw a fresh body of Pagans blocking one end. He turnedto escape into another path, but in front of him rode a handful of hisenemies. 'By the faith that I swore to my dear Lady Gibourc, ' he said, 'I had better die than never strike a blow, ' and so went straight atTelamon, their leader, on his horse Marchepierre. 'William!' cried theSaracen, 'this time you will not escape me. ' But the sun was in hiseyes, and his sword missed his aim. Before he could strike anotherblow William had borne him from his horse and galloped away onBausant. The mountain that he was climbing now was beset with Infidels, likeall the rest, and William looked in vain for a way of escape. Hejumped from his horse and rubbed his flanks, saying to him the while, 'Bausant, what will you do? Your sides are all bloody, and you canscarcely stand; but remember, if once you fall it means my death. ' Atthese words Bausant neighed, pricked up his ears and shook himself, and as he did so the blood seemed to flow strongly in his veins, as ofold. Then the Count rode down into the field of the Aliscans, andfound his nephew Vivian lying under a tree. [Illustration: VIVIAN'S LAST CONFESSION] 'Ah! my God, ' cried William, 'what sorrow for me! To the end of mylife I shall mourn this day. Earth, do thou open and swallow me! LadyGibourc, await me no longer, for never more shall I return to Orange!' So he lamented, grieving sore, till Vivian spoke to him. The Count wasfull of joy to hear his words, and, kneeling beside the youth, tookhim in his arms, and bade him, as no priest was there, confess hissins to him, as to his own father. One by one Vivian remembered themall, then a mist floated before his eyes, and, murmuring a farewell tothe Lady Gibourc, his soul left the world. William laid him gently down on his shield, and took another shieldfor covering, and turned to mount his horse, but at this his heartfailed him. 'Is it you, William, that men look to as their leader, and whom theycall Fierbras, who will do this cowardly deed?' he said to himself, and he went back to his nephew's side, and lifted the body on to hishorse, to bury it in his city of Orange. He had done what he could to give honour to Vivian, but he might aswell, after all, have left him where he fell, for in a fierce combatwith some Pagans on the road the Count was forced to abandon hisnephew's body and fight for his own life. He knew the two Saracenswell as brave men, but he soon slew one, and the other he unhorsedafter a struggle. 'Come back, come back, ' cried the Unbeliever; 'sell me your horse, fornever did I behold his like! I will give you for him twice his weightin gold, and set free besides all your nephews that have been takenprisoners. ' But William loved his horse, and would not have partedwith him to Charles himself; so he cut off the Saracen's head with hissword, and mounted his horse Folatisse, taking the saddle and bridleoff Bausant so that he might the more easily escape from the Pagans. At length, after fighting nearly every step of the way, he saw thetowers of Orange before him, and his palace, Gloriette, where dwelthis wife, the Lady Gibourc. 'Ah, with what joy did I leave thesewalls, ' he said to himself, 'and how many noble Knights have I lostsince then! Oh! Gibourc, my wife, will you not go mad when you hearthe tidings I have brought!' And, overcome with grief, the Count bowedhis head on the neck of his horse. When he recovered himself he rode straight to the City Gate, andcommanded the porter to let him in. 'Let down the drawbridge, ' calledhe, 'and be quick, for time presses. ' But he forgot that he hadchanged his own arms, and had taken instead those of Aeroflé theSaracen; therefore the porter, seeing a man with a shield and pennonand helmet that were strange to him, thought he was an enemy, andstood still where he was. 'Begone!' he said to William; 'if youapproach one step nearer I will deal you a blow that will unhorse you!Begone, I tell you, and as quick as you can, or when William ShortNose returns from the Aliscans it will be the worse for you. ' 'Fear nothing, friend, ' replied the Count, 'for I am William himself. I went to the Aliscans to fight the Saracens, and to help Vivian; butall my men are dead, and I only am left to bring these evil tidings. So open the gates, for the Saracens are close behind. ' 'You must wait a moment, ' answered the porter, and he quitted theturret where he had been standing and hastened to the chamber of theLady Gibourc. 'Noble Countess, ' cried he, 'there knocks at thedrawbridge a Knight in pagan armour, who seems fresh from battle, forhis arms are bloody. He is tall of stature and bears himself proudly, and he says he is William Short Nose. I pray you, my lady, come withme and see him for yourself. ' The face of Gibourc grew red when she heard the porter's words, andshe left the Palace and mounted the battlements, where she calledacross the fosse, 'Warrior, what is your will?' 'Oh, lady!' answered he, 'open the gate, and that quickly. Twentythousand Saracens are close upon my track; if they reach me, I am adead man. ' 'You cannot enter, ' replied Gibourc. 'I am alone here except for thisporter, a priest, a few children, and some ladies whose husbands areall at the war. Neither gate nor wicket will be opened until thereturn of my beloved lord, William the Count. ' Then William bowed hishead for a moment, and two tears ran down his cheeks. 'My lady, I am William himself, ' said he. 'Do you not know me?' 'Infidel, you lie, ' replied Gibourc. 'Take off your helmet, and let mesee who you are!' But the Count in his thought felt the earth trembling under his feetfrom the steps of the accursed ones. 'Noble Countess, ' cried he, 'thisis no time to parley. Look round you! Is not every hill covered withPagans?' 'Ah, now I know you are not William, ' answered she, 'for all thePagans in the world would never have stirred him with fear. By St. Peter! neither gate nor wicket shall be opened till I have seen yourface. I am alone and must defend myself. The voices of many men arealike. ' Then the Count lifted his helmet: 'Lady, look and be content. I amWilliam himself. Now let me in. ' Gibourc knew that it was indeed the Count who had returned, and wasabout to order the gates to be opened when there appeared in sight atroop of Saracens escorting two hundred prisoners, all of them youngKnights, and thirty ladies with fair white faces. Each one was loadedwith chains, and they cowered under the blows of their captors. Theircries and prayers for mercy reached the ears of Gibourc, and, changing her mind, she said quickly: 'There is the proof that you arenot William my husband, the "Strong Arm, " whose fame has spread far!For _he_ would never have suffered his brethren to be so shamefullyentreated while he was by!' 'Heavens!' cried the Count, 'to what hard tests does she put me! Butif I lose my head I will do her bidding, for what is there that Iwould _not_ do for the love of God and of her!' Without a word more heturned, and, relacing his helmet, spurred his horse at the Saracenswith his lance in rest. So sudden and fierce was his attack that theforemost riders fell back on those behind, who were thrown intoconfusion, while William's sword swept him a path to the centre, wherethe prisoners stood bound. The Pagans expected the city gates to openand a body of Franks to come forth to destroy them, and withoutwaiting another moment they turned and fled. Though the prisoners werefree, William pursued the enemy hotly. 'Oh, fair lord!' called Gibourc, who from the battlements had watchedthe fight, 'come back, come back, for now indeed you may enter. ' AndWilliam heard her voice, and left the Saracens to go where they wouldwhile he struck the chains off the prisoners, and led them to thegates of Orange, while he himself rode back to the Saracens. Not again would the Lady Gibourc have reason to call him coward. And Gibourc saw, and her heart swelled within her, and she repentedher of her words. 'It is my fault if he is slain, ' she wept. 'Oh, comeback, come back!' And William came. Now the drawbridge was let down before him, and he entered the cityfollowed by the Christians whom he had delivered, and the Countessunlaced his helmet, and bathed his wounds, and then stopped, doubting. 'You cannot be William after all, ' said she, 'for William would havebrought back the young kinsmen who went with him; and Guy and Vivian, and all the young Barons of the country side. And William would havebeen encircled by minstrels singing the great deeds he had done. ' [Illustration: THE CAPTIVES William Short-nose rides to the rescue] 'Ah, noble Countess, you speak truth, ' answered he. 'Henceforth mylife will be spent in mourning, for my friends and comrades who wentto war with me are lying dead at the Aliscans. Vivian is dead also, but Bertrand and Guy, Guichard the bold, and Gerard the brave, arecaptives in the Saracen camp. ' Great was the sorrow in the city of Orange, great likewise was thesorrow in the palace of her lord, where the ladies of the Countessmourned for their husbands. But it was Gibourc herself who first driedher tears, and roused herself from her grief for Vivian and otherswhom she had loved well. 'Noble Count, ' she said, 'do not lose yourcourage, and let the Infidels crush your spirit. Remember it is notnear Orleans, in safety, that your lands lie, but in the very midst ofthe Saracens. Orange never will have peace till they are subdued. Sosend messengers to Paris, to your brother-in-law King Louis, and toyour father Aimeri, asking for aid. Then march upon the Saracens, andrescue the captives that are in their hands before they are carriedacross the sea. ' 'Heavens!' cried William, 'has the world ever seen so wise a lady?' 'Let no one turn you from your road, ' she went on. 'At the news ofyour distress Ermengarde of Pavia, whom may God bless, and Aimeri withthe white beard, and all the Barons that are your kin, will fly toyour help. Their numbers are as the sands of the sea. ' 'But how shall I make them believe in what has befallen us?' answeredWilliam. 'Gibourc, sweetheart, in France they would hold any man madwho brought such a message. If I do not go myself I will send nobody, and go myself I will not, for I will not leave you alone again for allthe gold in Pavia. ' 'Sir, you must go, ' said Gibourc, weeping. 'I will stay here with myladies, of whom there are plenty, and each will place a helmet on herhead, and hang a shield round her neck, and buckle a sword to herside, and with the help of the Knights whom you have delivered weshall know how to defend ourselves if the Unbelievers should seek totake the city by assault. ' William's heart bounded at her words; he took her in his arms, andpromised that he himself would go, and more, that he would never liesoft nor eat delicately nor kiss the cheek of any lady, however fair, till he returned again to Orange. Thus William Short Nose set forth and the next day passed throughOrleans. There he met with his brother Ernaut, who had ridden homefrom escorting King Louis back to Paris. Ernaut promised his help andthat of his father and brothers, but counselled William to go to Laon, where a great feast would be held and many persons would be assembled. The Count followed Ernaut's counsel, but refused the troop of Knightsand men-at-arms which Ernaut offered him, liking rather to ride alone. He made his entrance into Laon on Sunday, and the people laughed athim and made jests on his tall thin horse; but William let them laugh, and rode on until he reached the Palace. There he alighted under anolive tree, and, fastening his horse to one of the branches, took offhis helmet and unbuckled his breastplate. The people stared as theypassed by, but nobody spoke to him. Someone told the King that a strange man without a squire or even aman-at-arms was sitting before the Palace under an olive tree. TheKing's face grew dark as he heard their tale, for he loved to keep hisgardens for his own pleasure. 'Sanson, ' he called to one of hisguards, 'go and find out who this stranger is and whence he comes, butbeware of bringing him hither. ' Sanson hastened to do his errand, and William answered, 'My name isone that is known to France. I am William Short Nose, and I come fromOrange. My body is worn out with much riding; I pray you hold my horseuntil I have spoken to King Louis. ' 'Noble Count, ' replied Sanson, 'let me first return to the King andtell him who you are. And be not angry, I beseech you, for such are myorders. ' 'Be quick, then, my friend, ' said William, 'and do not neglect to tellthe King that I am in great distress. This is the time to show hislove for me; and if he truly does love me, let him come to meet mewith the great lords of his Court. If he does not come, I have noother hope. ' 'I will tell him what you say, ' said Sanson, 'and if it rests with meyou shall be content. ' Then Sanson went back to the King. 'It is William, the famousWilliam!' he said, 'and he wishes you to go out to meet him. ' 'Never!' answered Louis. 'Will he always be a thorn in my side? Woe beto him who rejoices at his coming. ' So the King sat still, and on the steps of the Palace there gatheredKnights and Nobles in goodly numbers, and hardly one but wore a mantleof ermine or marten, a helmet set with precious stones, a sword or ashield which had been given him by William himself. But now they wererich and he was poor, so they mocked at him. 'My lords, ' said William, 'you do ill to treat me so. I have loved youall, and you bear the tokens of my love about you at this moment. If Ican give you no more gifts, it is because I have lost all I have inthe world at the Aliscans. My men are dead, and my nephews areprisoners in the hands of the Saracens. It is the Lady Gibourc whobade me come here, and it is she who asks for help through me. Havepity on us, and help us. ' But without a word, they rose up and wentinto the Palace, and William knew what their love was worth. The young men told Louis of the words that the Count had spoken, andthe King rose and leaned out of the window. 'Sir William, ' said he, 'go to the inn, and let them bathe your horse. You seem in a sorryplight, without a groom or esquire to help you. ' William heard and vowed vengeance. But if the King and the courtiershad no hearts, in his need a friend came to him, Guimard, a citizen ofLaon, who took the Count home and offered him rich food. But becauseof his vow to the Lady Gibourc, he would only eat coarse bread, anddrink water from the spring; and as soon as it was light he rose upfrom his bed of fresh hay, and dressed himself. 'Where are you going?'asked his host. 'To the Palace, to entreat the aid of the King, and woe be to him whotries to stop me. ' 'May God protect you, Sir, ' answered Guimard. 'To-day the King crownsBlanchefleur, your sister, who no doubt loves you well. And he givesher the Vermandois for her dower, the richest land in all fair France, but a land that is never at peace. ' 'Well, ' said William, 'I will be present at the ceremony. Indeed theycannot do without me, for all France is under my care, and it is myright to bear her standard in battle. And let them beware how theymove me to wrath, lest I depose the King of France and tear the crownfrom his head. ' The Count placed a breastplate under his jerkin and hid his swordunder his cloak. The gates of the Palace opened before him and heentered the vaulted hall. It was filled with the greatest nobles inthe land, and ladies with rich garments of silk and gold. Lords andladies both knew him, but not one gave him welcome--not even hissister, the Queen. His fingers played with his sword, and he had muchado not to use it. But while his wrath was yet kindling the heraldsannounced that his father Aimeri had come. The Lord of Narbonne stepped on to the grass with Ermengarde, hisnoble Countess, his four sons, and many servants. King Louis and theQueen hastened to meet them, and amid cries of joy they mounted thesteps into the hall. Aimeri sat beside the King of Saint-Denis, andthe Countess was seated next the Queen, while the Knights placedthemselves on the floor of the hall. And William sat also, but aloneand apart, nursing his anger. At last he rose, and, advancing to the middle of the floor, he saidwith a loud voice: 'Heaven protect my mother, my father, my brothersand my friends; but may His curse alight on my sister and on the King, who have no hearts, and have left me to be the butt of all the mockersof the Court. By all the Saints! were not my father sitting next him, this sword should ere now have cloven his skull. ' The King listened, pale with fright, and the Queen wished herself at Paris or at Senlis. The rest whispered to each other, 'William is angry, something willhappen!' When Ermengarde and Aimeri saw their son standing before them greatjoy filled their souls. They left their seats and flung themselves onhis neck, and William's brother also ran to greet him. The Count toldthem how he had been vanquished at the Aliscans, how Vivian had beenkilled, and he himself had fled to Orange, and of the distress inwhich he had left Gibourc. 'It was at her bidding I came here to askaid from Louis, the base King, but from the way he has treated me Isee plainly that he has no heart. By St. Peter! he shall repent beforeI go, and my sister also. ' The King heard and again waxed cold with fear; the nobles heard andwhispered low, 'Who is strong enough to compass this matter? No man, be he the bravest in France, ever went to his help and came back totell the tale. Let him abandon Orange, and let the King give himinstead the Vermandois. ' It was the Lady Ermengarde who broke the silence. 'O God, ' she cried, 'to think that the Franks should be such cowards! And you, Sir Aimeri, has your courage failed you also? Have no fear, fair son William, Ihave still left gold that would fill thirty chariots, and I will giveit to those who enrol themselves under your banner. I myself will donbreastplate and shield, and will fight in the front rank of yourarmy. ' Aimeri smiled and sighed as he listened to her words, and his sonsshed tears. William answered nothing, but remained standing in the middle of thehall, his eyes fixed on his sister sitting on her throne, with a smallgolden crown upon her head, and on her husband King Louis. 'This, then, O King, is the reward of all I have done! WhenCharlemagne your father died, and all the Barons of the Empire met atParis, you would have lost your crown if I had not forced them toplace it upon your head. ' 'That is true, ' answered the King, 'and in remembrance of yourservices I will to-day bestow on you a fief. ' 'Yes, ' cried Blanchefleur, 'and no doubt will deprive me of one. Anice agreement, truly! Woe to him who dares carry it out. ' 'Be silent, woman without shame!' said William. 'Every word you speakproclaims the depth of your baseness! You pass your days wrapped inrich clothing, eating costly food, and drinking rare wines, and littleyou care that we endure heat and cold, hunger and thirst, and sufferwounds and death so that your life may be easy. ' Then he boundedforwards and tore off the crown, and, drawing his sword, would havecut off her head had not Ermengarde wrenched the weapon from hishands. Before he could seize it again the Queen darted away and tookrefuge in her chamber, where she fell fainting on the floor. It was her daughter Alix, the fair and the wise, who raised her up andbrought her back to consciousness; then heard with shame the tale shehad to tell. 'How could you speak so to my uncle, the best man thatever wore a sword?' asked Alix. 'It was he who made you Queen ofFrance, and the words that you uttered must have been taught you bydevils. ' 'Yes, my daughter, you say truth, ' answered the Queen, 'I have doneill, and if it rests with me I will make peace with my brother'; andshe wept over her wicked speech, while Alix, red and white as theroses in May, went down into the hall, where the Franks were stillwhispering together, and calling curses on the head of William. They all rose as the maiden entered; Aimeri, her grandfather, took herin his arms, and her four uncles kissed her cheek. Her presence seemedto calm the anger and trouble which before had reigned throughout thehall, and Ermengarde flung herself at William's feet and besought hispardon for the Queen. William raised his mother from her knees, buthis anger was not soothed. 'I have no love for the King, ' he said, 'and before night I will break his pride, ' and he stood where he hadbeen always standing, his face red with wrath, leaning on his nakedsword. Not a sound was heard, and the eyes of all were fixedbreathlessly upon William. Then in her turn Alix stepped forward andknelt at his feet. 'Punish me in my mother's place, ' said she, 'andcut off my head if you will, or send me into exile, but let there bepeace, I pray you, between you and my father and mother. Her ill wordstowards you did not come from her heart, but were put into her mouthby devils. ' At the voice of Alix William's wrath melted, but at first he wouldpromise nothing. 'Fair son William, ' said Ermengarde again, 'becontent. The King will do what you desire, and will aid you to theuttermost. ' 'Yes, I will aid you, ' answered the King. So peace was made, the Queen was fetched, and they all sat down to agreat feast. In this manner the pride of the King was broken. [Illustration: The Lady Alix stays the wrath of William-Shortnose] But when one man is shifty and another is hasty wrath is not apt toslumber long, and treaties of peace are easier made than kept. Whenthe feast was over William pressed King Louis to prepare an army atonce, so that no time might be lost in giving battle to the Infidels, but the King would bind himself to nothing. 'We will speak of itagain, ' said he; 'I will tell you to-morrow whether I will go or not. ' At this answer William grew red with rage, and holding out a wand hesaid to the King, 'I give you back your fief. I will take nothing fromyou, and henceforth will neither be your friend nor your vassal. ' 'Keep your fief, ' said Ernaut to his brother, 'and leave the King todo as he will. I will help you and my brothers also, and between ustwenty thousand men shall march to the Aliscans, and deal death to anyInfidels we shall find there. ' 'You speak weak words, ' cried Aimeri; 'he is Seneschal of France, andalso her Standard Bearer; he has a right to our help, and if thatfails a right to vengeance. ' And Alix approved of his saying, and theQueen likewise. The King saw that none was on his side and from fear of Aimeri and ofhis sons he dared refuse no longer. 'Count William, for love of you Iwill call together my army, and a hundred thousand men shall obey yourcommands. But I myself will not go with you, for my kingdom needs mebadly. ' 'Remain, Sire, ' answered William, 'I myself will lead the host. ' Andthe King sent out his messengers, and soon a vast army was gatheredunder the walls of Laon. It was on one of these days when the Count stood in the great hallthat there entered from the kitchen a young man whom he had never seenbefore. The youth, whose name was Rainouart, was tall; strong as awild boar, and swift as a deer. The scullions and grooms had playedoff jests upon him during the night, but had since repented themsorely, for he had caught the leaders up in his arms and broken theirheads against the walls. The rest, eager to avenge their comrades'death, prepared to overcome him with numbers, and in spite of hisstrength it might have gone ill with Rainouart had not Aimeri deNarbonne, hearing the noise, forbade more brawling. Count William was told of the unseemly scuffle, and asked the King whoand what the young man was who could keep at bay so many of hisfellows. 'I bought him once at sea, ' said Louis, 'and paid a hundredmarks for him. They pretend that he is the son of a Saracen, but hewill never reveal the name of his father. Not knowing what to do withhim, I sent him to the kitchen. ' 'Give him to me, King Louis, ' said William, smiling, 'I promise you heshall have plenty to eat. ' 'Willingly, ' answered the King. Far off in the kitchen Rainouart knew nothing of what was passingbetween the King and the Count, and his soul chafed at the sound ofthe horses' hoofs, and at the scraps of talk he heard let fall by theKnights, who were seeing to the burnishing of their armour before theystarted to fight the Unbelievers. 'To think, ' he said to himself, 'that I, who am of right King of Spain, should be loitering here, heaping logs on the fire and skimming the pot. But let King Louis lookto himself! Before a year is past I will snatch the crown from hishead. ' When the army had finished its preparations and was ready to march hemade up his mind what to do, and it was thus that he sought outWilliam in the great hall. 'Noble Count, let me come with you, Iimplore you. I can help to look after the horses and cook the food, and if at any time blows are needed I can strike as well as any man. ' 'Good fellow, ' answered William, who wished to try what stuff he wasmade of, 'you dream idle dreams! How could you, who have passed yourdays in the warmth of the kitchen, sleeping on the hearth when youwere not busy turning the spit--how could you bear all the fatigueof war, the long fasts, and the longer watches? Before a month hadpassed you would be dead by the roadside!' [Illustration: ALIX KISSES RAINOUART] 'Put me to the proof, ' said he, 'and if you will not have me I will goalone to the Aliscans, and fight barefoot. My only weapon will be aniron-bound staff, and I promise you it shall kill as many Saracens asthe best sword among you all. ' 'Come then, ' answered the Count. The next morning the army set forth, and Alix and the QueenBlanchefleur watched them go from the steps of the Palace. When Alixsaw Rainouart stepping proudly along with his heavy staff on hisshoulder her heart stirred, and she said to her mother, 'See, what agoodly young man! In the whole army there is not one like him! Let mebid him farewell, for nevermore shall I see his match. ' 'Peace! my daughter, ' answered the Queen, 'I hope indeed that he maynever more return to Laon. ' But Alix took no heed of her mother'swords, but signed to Rainouart to draw near. Then Alix put her armsround his neck, and said, 'Brother, you have been a long time atCourt, and now you are going to fight under my uncle's banner. If everI have given you pain, I ask your pardon. ' After that she kissed him, and bade him go. At Orleans William took leave of his father Count Aimeri and hismother Ermengarde, the noble Countess, who returned to their home atNarbonne, and also of his brothers, who promised to return to meetWilliam under the walls of Orange, which they did faithfully. Hehimself led his army by a different road, and pressed on quickly tillhe came in sight of his native city. But little of it could he see, for a great smoke covered all the land, rising up from the burningtowers which the Saracens had that morning set on fire. Enter the citythey could not, for Gibourc and her ladies held it firm, and, armedwith helmets and breastplates, flung stones upon the head of anySaracen who appeared on the walls. So the Unbelievers fell back andtook the way to the Aliscans, there to build as quickly as they mightan engine to bring up against the tower and overthrow it. When William beheld the smoke, and whence it came, he cried 'Orange isburning! Holy Saint Mary, Gibourc is carried captive! To arms! Toarms!' And he spurred his horse to Orange, Rainouart running by hisside. From her tower Gibourc saw through the smoke a thousand bannerswaving and the sparkle of armour, and heard the sound of the horses'hoofs, and it seemed to her that the Infidels were drawing near anew. 'Oh, William!' cried she, 'have you really forgotten me? Noble Count, you linger overlong! Never more shall I look upon your face. ' And sosaying she fell fainting on the floor. But something stirred the pulses of Gibourc, and she soon sat upagain, and there at the gate was William the Count, with Rainouartbehind him. 'Fear nothing, noble lady, ' said he, 'it is the army ofFrance that I have brought with me. Open, and welcome to us!' The newsseemed so good to Gibourc that she could not believe it, and she badethe Count unlace his helmet, so that she might indeed be sure that itwas he. William did her bidding, then like an arrow she ran to thegate and let down the drawbridge, and William stepped across it andembraced her tenderly. Then he ordered his army to take up itsquarters in the city. Gibourc's eyes had fallen upon Rainouart, who had passed her on hisway to the kitchen, where he meant to leave his stout wooden staff. 'Tell me, ' said she to the Count, 'who is that young man who bearslightly on his shoulder that huge piece of wood which would weigh downa horse? He is handsome and well made. Where did you find him?' 'Lady, ' answered William, 'he was given me by the King. ' 'My Lord, ' said Gibourc, 'be sure you see that he is honourablytreated. He looks to me to be of high birth. Has he been baptized?' 'No, Madam, he is not a Christian. He was brought from Spain as achild, and kept for seven years in the kitchen. But take him, I prayyou, under your protection, and do with him as you will. ' The Count was hungry, and while waiting for dinner to be served hestood with Gibourc at the windows which looked out beyond the city. Anarmy was drawing near; thousands of men, well mounted and freshlyequipped. 'Gibourc!' cried the Count joyfully, 'here is my brotherErnaut de Gironde, with his vassals. Now all the Saracens in the worldshall not prevent Bertrand from being delivered to-morrow. ' 'No, ' answered Gibourc, 'nor Vivian from being avenged. ' On all sides warriors began to arrive, led by the fathers of those whohad been taken prisoners with Bertrand, and with them came Aimeri deNarbonne and the brothers of William. Glad was the heart of the Countas he bade them welcome to his Palace of Gloriette, and ordered afeast to be made ready, and showed each Knight where he should sit. It was late before the supper was served, but when every man had histrencher filled Rainouart entered the hall, armed with his staff, andstood leaning against a pillar, watching the noble company. 'Sir, 'said Aimeri, the man whom the Saracens most dreaded, 'who is it that Isee standing there holding a piece of wood that five peasants couldhardly lift? Does he mean to murder us?' 'That youth, ' replied William, 'is a gift to me from King Louis. Noneliving is as strong as he. ' Then Aimeri called Rainouart, and bade himsit at his side, and eat and drink as he would. 'Noble Count, ' saidAimeri, 'such men grow not on every bush. Keep him and cherish him, and bring him with you to the Aliscans. For with his staff he willslay many Pagans. ' 'Yes, ' answered Rainouart, 'wherever I appear the Pagans will falldead at the sight of me. ' Aimeri and William laughed to hear him, butere four days were past they had learnt what he was worth. Rainouart went back to the kitchen and slept soundly, but as he haddrunk much wine the cooks and scullions thought to play jokes uponhim, and lighted some wooden shavings with which to burn hismoustache. At the first touch of the flame Rainouart leapt to hisfeet, seized the head cook by his legs, flung him on to the blazingfire, and turned for another victim, but they had all fled. At daybreak they went to William to complain of the death of theirchief, and to pray for vengeance on his murderer. If the Count wouldnot forbid him the kitchen, not a morsel of food would they cook. ButWilliam only laughed at their threats, and said, 'Beware henceforthhow you meddle with Rainouart, or it will cost you dear. Did I notforbid anyone to mock at him, and do you dare to disobey my orders?Lady Gibourc, take Rainouart to your chamber, and keep him besideyou. ' So the Countess went to the kitchen to look for Rainouart and foundhim sitting on a bench, his head leaning against his staff. She satdown by him and said graciously, 'Brother, come with me. I will giveyou my ermine pelisse and a mantle of marten, and we will have sometalk together. ' 'Willingly, ' answered Rainouart, 'the more as I can hardly keep myhands off these low-born scoundrels. ' He followed Gibourc to her room, and then she questioned him abouthimself and the days of his childhood. 'Have you brothers or sisters?' asked she. [Illustration: THE LADY GIBOURC WITH RAINOUART IN THE KITCHEN] 'Yes, ' he answered, 'beyond the sea I have a brother who is a King, and a sister who is more beautiful than a fairy, ' and as he spokehe bent his head. Something in her heart told Gibourc that this mightbe her brother, but she only asked again, 'Where do you come from?' 'Lady, ' he replied, 'I will answer that question the day I come backfrom the battle which William shall have won, thanks to my aid. ' Gibourc kept silence, but she opened a chest and drew from it a whitebreastplate that had belonged to the Emir Tournefer, her uncle, whichwas so finely wrought that no sword could pierce it. Likewise a helmetof steel and a sword that could cut through iron more easily than ascythe cuts grass. 'My friend, ' she said, 'buckle this sword to yourleft side. It may be useful to you. ' Rainouart took the sword and drewit from its scabbard, but it seemed so light that he threw it downagain. 'Lady, ' he cried, 'what good can such a plaything do me? Butwith my staff between my hands there is not a Pagan that can stand upagainst me, and if one escapes then let Count William drive me fromhis door. ' At this Gibourc felt sure this was indeed her brother, but she did notyet like to ask him more questions, and in her joy and wonder shebegan to weep. 'Lady Countess, ' said Rainouart, 'do not weep. As longas my staff is whole William shall be safe. ' 'My friend, may Heaven protect you, ' she answered, 'but a man withoutarmour is soon cut down; one blow will be his death. So take thesethings and wear them in battle, ' and she laced on the helmet, andbuckled the breastplate, and fastened the sword on his thigh. 'If yourstaff breaks, it may serve you, ' said she. Rainouart's heart was proud indeed when the armour was girded on him, and he sat himself down well pleased at William's table. The Knightsvied with each other in pouring him out bumpers of wine, and afterdinner every man tried to lift his iron-bound staff, but none couldraise it from the ground, except William himself, who by putting forthall his strength lifted it the height of a foot. 'Let me aid you, ' said Rainouart, and catching it up he whirled itround his head, throwing it lightly from hand to hand. 'We are wastingtime, ' he went on. 'I fear lest the Pagans should fly before we comeup with them. If I only have the chance to make them feel the weightof my staff, I shall soon sweep the battle-field clean. ' And Williamembraced him for these words, and ordered the trumpets to be soundedand the army to march. From her window Gibourc watched them go. She saw the Knights, eachwith his following, stream out into the plain, their banners floatingon the wind, their helmets shining in the sun, their shieldsglittering with gold. She heard their horses neigh with delight, asthey snuffed up the air, and she prayed God to bless all this noblehost. After two days' march they came within sight of the Aliscans, but forfive miles round the country was covered by the Pagan army. Williamperceived that some of his men quailed at the number of the foe, so heturned and spoke to his soldiers. 'My good lords, ' he said, 'a fearfulbattle awaits us, and we must not give way an inch. If any man feelsafraid let him go back to his own land. This is no place for cowards. ' The cowards heard joyfully, and without shame took the road by whichthey had come. They spurred their horses and thought themselves safe, but they rejoiced too soon. At the mouth of a bridge Rainouart met them, and he took them forPagans who were flying for their lives. But when he saw that they werepart of the Christian host he raised his staff and barred theirpassage. 'Where are you going?' asked he. 'To France, for rest, 'answered the cowards; 'the Count has dismissed us, and when we reachour homes we shall bathe ourselves and have good cheer, and see to therebuilding of our castles, which have fallen into ill-repair duringthe wars. With William one has to bear pains without end, and atthe last to die suffering. Come with us, if you are a wise man. ' [Illustration: RAINOUART STOPS THE COWARDS] 'Ask someone else, ' said Rainouart; 'Count William has given me thecommand of the army, and it is to him that I have to render account. Do you think I shall let you run away like hares? By Saint Denis! notanother step shall you stir!' And, swinging his staff round his head, he laid about him. Struck dumb with terror at the sight of theircomrades falling rapidly round them they had no mind to go on, andcried with one voice, 'Sir Rainouart, we will return and fight withyou in the Aliscans; you shall lead us whither you will. ' So theyturned their horses' heads and rode the way they had come, andRainouart followed, keeping guard over them with his staff. When theyreached the army he went straight to William, and begged that he mighthave the command of them. 'I will change them into a troop of lions, 'said he. Harsh words and gibes greeted the cowards, but Rainouart soon forcedthe mockers to silence. 'Leave my men alone!' he cried, 'or by thefaith I owe to Gibourc I will make you. I am a King's son, and thetime has come to show you what manner of man I am. I have idled long, but I will idle no longer. I am of the blood royal, and the saying istrue that good blood cannot lie. ' 'How well he speaks!' whispered the Franks to each other, for theydared not let their voices be heard. Now the battle was to begin, for the two armies were drawn up infighting array, and Rainouart took his place at the head of hiscowards opposite the Saracens, from which race he sprang. The charge was sounded, and the two armies met with a shock, and manya man fell from his horse and was trampled under foot. 'Narbonne!Narbonne!' shouted Aimeri, advancing within reach of a crossbow shot, and he would have been slain had not his sons dashed to his rescue. Count William did miracles, and the Saracens were driven so far backthat Rainouart feared that the battle would be ended before he hadstruck a blow. Followed by his troop of cowards Rainouart made straight for theenemy, and before him they fell as corn before a sickle. 'Strike, soldiers, ' shouted he; 'strike and avenge the noble Vivian; woe to theKing Desramé if he crosses my path. ' And a messenger came and said toDesramé, 'It is Rainouart with the iron staff, the strongest man inthe world. ' Rainouart and his cowards pressed on and on, and the Saracens fellback, step by step, till they reached the sea, where their ships wereanchored. Then Rainouart drove his staff in the sand, and by its help swunghimself on board a small vessel, which happened to be the very one inwhich the nephews of William were imprisoned. He laid about him rightand left with his staff, till he had slain all the gaolers, and atlast he came to a young man whose eyes were bandaged and his feet tiedtogether. 'Who are you?' asked Rainouart. 'I am Bertrand of France, nephew of William Short Nose. Four monthsago I was taken captive by the Pagans, and if, as I think, they carryme into Arabia, then may God have pity on my soul, for it is all overwith my body. ' 'Sir Count, ' answered Rainouart, 'for love of William I will deliveryou. ' Bertrand was set free and his companions also. Seizing the weapons ofthe dead Saracens, they scrambled on shore, and, while fighting fortheir lives, looked about for their uncle, whom they knew at last bythe sweep of his sword, which kept a clean space round him. More thanonce Rainouart swept back fresh foes that were pressing forwards tillthe tide of battle carried him away and brought him opposite Desraméthe King. 'Who are you?' asked Desramé, struck by his face, for therewas nothing royal in his dress or his arms. 'I am Rainouart, vassal of William whom I love, and if you do hurt tohim I will do hurt to you also. ' 'Rainouart, I am your father, ' cried Desramé, and he besought him toforswear Christianity and to become a follower of Mahomet; butRainouart turned a deaf ear, and challenged him to continue thecombat. Desramé was no match for his son, and was soon struck from hishorse. 'Oh, wretch that I am, ' said Rainouart to himself, 'I haveslain my brothers and wounded my father--it is my staff which has doneall this evil, ' and he flung it far from him. He would have been wiser to have kept it, for in a moment three giantssurrounded him, and he had only his fists with which to beat themback. Suddenly his hand touched the sword buckled on him by Gibourc, which he had forgotten, and he drew it from its scabbard, and withthree blows clove the heads of the giants in twain. Meanwhile KingDesramé took refuge in the only ship that had not been sunk by theChristians, and spread its sails. 'Come back whenever you like, fairfather, ' called Rainouart after him. The fight was over; the Saracens acknowledged that they were beaten, and the booty they had left behind them was immense. The army, weariedwith the day's toil, lay down to sleep, but before midnight Rainouartwas awake and trumpets called to arms. 'Vivian must be buried, ' saidhe, 'and then the march to Orange will begin. ' Rainouart rode at the head, his sword drawn, prouder than a lion; andas he went along a poor peasant threw himself before him, asking forvengeance on some wretches who had torn up a field of beans which wasall he had with which to feed his family. Rainouart ordered therobbers to be brought before him and had them executed. Then he gaveto the peasant their horses and their armour in payment of the ruinedbeans. 'Ah, it has turned out a good bargain for me, ' said thepeasant. 'Blessed be the hour when I sowed such a crop. ' William entered into his Palace, where a great feast was spread forthe visitors, but one man only remained outside the walls, and thatwas Rainouart, of whom no one thought in the hour of triumph. Hisheart swelled with bitterness as he thought of the blows he had given, and the captives he had set free, and, weeping with anger, he turnedhis face towards the Aliscans. On the road some Knights met him, andasked him whither he was going and why he looked so sad. Then hiswrath and grief burst out, and he told how he mourned that ever he hadslain a man in William's cause, and that he was now hastening to serveunder the banner of Mahomet, and would shortly return with a hundredthousand men behind him, and would avenge himself on France and herKing. Only towards Alix would he show any pity! In vain the Knights tried to soften his heart, it was too sore tolisten. So they rode fast to Orange and told the Count what Rainouarthad said. 'I have done him grievous wrong, ' answered William, and ordered twentyKnights to ride after him. But the Knights were received with threatsand curses, and came back to Orange faster than they had left it, thinking that Rainouart was at their heels. William smiled when he heard the tale of his messengers, and bade thembring his horse, and commanded that a hundred Knights should followhim, and prayed Gibourc to ride at his side. They found Rainouartentering a vessel whose sails were already spread, and all William'sentreaties would have availed nothing had not Gibourc herself imploredhis forgiveness. 'I am your brother, ' cried Rainouart, throwing himself on her neck; 'Imay confess it now, and for you I will pardon the Count's ingratitudeand never more will I remind you of it. ' There was great joy in Orange when William rode through the gates withRainouart beside him, and the next day the Count made him hisSeneschal, and he was baptized. Then William sent his brothers on anembassy to the King in Paris, to beg that he would bestow the hand ofPrincess Alix on Rainouart, son of King Desramé and brother of LadyGibourc. And when the embassy returned Alix returned with it, and themarriage took place with great splendour; but to the end of his life, whenever Rainouart felt cold, he warmed himself in the kitchen. WAYLAND THE SMITH _WAYLAND THE SMITH_ Far up to the north of Norway and Sweden, looking straight at thePole, lies the country of Finmark. It is very cold and very bare, andfor half the year very dark; but inside its stony mountains are richstores of metals, and the strong, ugly men of the country spent theirlives in digging out the ore and in working it. Like many people whodwell in mountains, they saw and heard strange things, which wereunknown to the inhabitants of the lands to the south. Now in Finmark there were three brothers whose names were Slagfid, Eigil, and Wayland, all much handsomer and cleverer than theirneighbours. They had some money of their own, but this did not preventthem working as hard as anyone else; and as they were either veryclever or very lucky, they were soon in a fair way to grow rich. One day they went to a new part of the mountains which was yetuntouched, and began to throw up the earth with their pick-axes; butinstead of the iron they expected to see they found they had lightedupon a mine of gold. This discovery pleased them greatly and theirblows became stronger and harder, for the gold was deep in the rockand it was not easy to get it out. At last a huge lump rolled out attheir feet, and when they picked it up they saw three stones shiningin it, one red and one blue and one green. They took it home to theirmother, who began to weep bitterly at the sight of it. 'What is thematter?' asked her sons anxiously, for they knew things lay open toher which were hidden from others. 'Ah, my sons, ' she said as soon as she could speak, 'you will havemuch happiness, but I shall be forced to part with you. Therefore Ished tears, for I hoped that only death would divide us! Green is thegrass, blue is the sky, red are the roses, golden is the maiden. TheNorns' (for so in that country they called the Fates) 'beckon you to aland where green fields lie under a blue sky, fields wheregolden-haired maidens lie among the flowers. ' Great was the joy of the three brothers when they heard the words oftheir mother; for they hated the looks of the women who dwelt aboutthem, and longed for the tall stature and white skins of the maidensof the south. Next morning they rose early and buckled on their swords and coats ofmail, and fastened on their heads helmets that they had made the daybefore from the lump of gold. In the centre of Slagfid's helmet wasthe green stone, and in the centre of Eigil's was the blue stone, andin the centre of Wayland's was the red stone; and when they were readythey put their reindeer into their sledges, and set out over the snow. When they reached the mountains where only yesterday they had beendigging they saw by the light of the moon a host of little men runningto meet them. They were dressed all in grey, except for their caps, which were red; they had red eyes, too, and black tongues, which neverceased chattering. These were the mountain elves, and when they camenear they formed themselves into a fairy ring, and sang while theydanced round it: Will you leave us? Will you leave us? Slagfid, Eigil, and Wayland, sons of a King. Is not the emerald better than grass? Is not the ruby better than roses? Is not the sapphire better than the sky? Why do you leave the mountains of Finmark? [Illustration: The Three Women By The Stream] But Eigil was impatient and struck his reindeer, that willing beastwhich flies like the wind and needs not the touch of a whip. Itbounded forward in surprise, and knocked down one of the elves thatstood in its path. But the hands of his brothers laid hold of thereins, and stopped the reindeer, and sang again, The Finlander's world, the Finlander's joy, Lies under the earth; Seek not without what we offer within, Despise not the elves, small and dark though they be. The best is within, do not seek it without: The Finlander's world, the Finlander's joy, Lies under the earth. Slagfid struck his reindeer. It bounded forward and struck down an elfwho stood in its road. Then his brothers stood in its path, andstopped the reindeer, and sang: Because Slagfid struck his reindeer, Because Eigil struck his reindeer, Our hatred shall follow you. A time of weal, a time of woe, a time of grief, a time of joy. Because Wayland also forsook us, Though he struck not the reindeer, A time of weal, a time of woe, a time of grief, a time of joy. Farewell, O Finlanders, sons of a King. Their voices died away as they crossed a bright strip of moonlightwhich lay between them and the mountains and were seen no more. The brothers thought no more about them or their words, but wentswiftly on their way south, sleeping at night in their reindeer skins. After many days they came to a lake full of fish, in a place which wascalled the Valley of Wolves, because of the number of wolves which hidthere. But the Finlanders did not mind the wolves, and built a houseclose to the lake, and hunted bears, and caught fish through holes inthe ice, till winter had passed away and spring had come. Then oneday they noticed that the sky was blue and the earth covered withflowers. By-and-by they noticed something more, and that was that three maidenswere sitting on the grass, spinning flax on the bank of a stream. Their eyes were blue, and their skins were white as the snow on themountains, while instead of the mantles of swansdown they generallywore, golden hair covered their shoulders. The hearts of the brothers beat as they looked on the maidens, whowere such as they had often dreamed of, but had never seen; and asthey drew near they found to their surprise that the maidens weredressed each in red, green, and blue garments, and the meadow was sothickly dotted with yellow flowers that it seemed as if it were a massof solid gold. 'Hail, noble princes! Hail, Slagfid, Eigil, and Wayland, ' sang themaidens. Swanvite, Alvilda, and Alruna are sent by the Norns, To bring joy to the princes of Finland. Then the tongues of the young men were unloosed, and Slagfid marriedSwanvite, Eigil Alruna, and Wayland Alvilda. For nine years they all lived on the shores of the lake, and no peoplein the world were as happy as these six: till one morning the threewives stood before their husbands and said with weeping eyes: 'Dear lords, the time has now come when we must bid you farewell, forwe are not allowed to stay with you any longer. We are Norns--or, assome call us, Valkyrie. Nine years of joy are granted to us, but theseare paid for by nine years during which we hover round the combatantson every field of battle. But bear your souls in patience, for onearth all things have an end, and in nine years we will return to beyour wives as before. ' 'But we shall be getting old then, ' answered the brothers, 'and youwill have forgotten us. Stay now, we pray you, for we love you well. ' '_We_ are not mortals to grow old, ' said the Norns, 'and true lovedoes not grow old either. Still, we do not wish you to fall sick withgrieving, so we leave you these three keys, with which you may openthe mountain, and busy yourselves by digging out the treasures itcontains. By the time the nine years are over you will have becomerich men, and men of renown. ' So they laid down the keys and vanished. For a long while the young men only left their houses to seek forfood, so dreary had the Valley of Wolves become. At last Slagfid andEigil could bear it no longer, and declared they would travel throughthe whole world till they found their wives; but Wayland, theyoungest, determined to stay at home. 'You would do much better to remain where you are, ' said he. 'You donot know in which direction to look for them, and it is useless toseek on earth for those who fly through the air. You will only loseyourselves, and starve, and when the nine years are ended who can tellwhere you may be?' But his words fell on deaf ears; for Slagfid and Eigil merely filledtheir wallets with food and their horns with drink, and prepared totake leave of their brother. Wayland embraced them weeping, for hefeared that he would never more see them, and once again he imploredthem to give up their quest. Slagfid and Eigil only shook their heads. 'We have no rest, night or day, without them, ' they said, and theybegged him to look after their property till they came back again. Wayland saw that more words would be wasted, so he walked with them tothe edge of the forest, where their ways would part. Then Slagfidsaid, 'Our fathers, when they went a journey, left behind them a tokenby which it might be known whether they were dead or alive, and I willdo so also. ' So he stamped heavily on the soft ground, and added, 'Aslong as this footmark remains sharp and clear, I shall be safe. If itis filled with water I shall be drowned; if with blood, I shall havefallen in battle. But if it is filled with earth an illness will havekilled me, and I shall lie under the ground. ' Thus he did, and Eigildid likewise. Then they cut stout sticks to aid their journeys, andwent their ways. Wayland stood gazing after them as long as they were in sight, then hewent sadly home. Slagfid and Eigil walked steadily on through the day, and when eveningcame they reached a stream bordered with trees, where they took offtheir golden helmets and sat down to rest and eat. They had gone farthat day and were tired, and drank somewhat heavily, so that they knewnot what they did. 'If I lose my Swanvite, ' said Slagfid, 'I amundone. She is the fairest woman that sun ever looked on, or that manever loved. ' 'It is a lie, ' answered Eigil. 'I know one lovelier still, and hername is Alruna. Odin does not love Freya so fondly as Eigil adoresher. ' 'It is no lie, ' cried Slagfid, 'and may shame fall on him who slandersme. ' 'And I, ' answered Eigil, 'stand to what I have said, and declare thatyou are the liar. ' At this they both drew their swords and fellfighting, till Slagfid struck Eigil's helmet so hard that the jewelflew into a thousand pieces, while Eigil himself fell backwards intothe river. Slagfid stood still, leaning on his sword and looking at the riverinto which his brother had fallen. Suddenly the trees behind himrustled, and a voice came out of them, saying, 'A time of weal, a timeof woe, a time of tears, a time of death'; and though he could seenothing he remembered the mountain elves, and thought how true theirprophecy had been. 'I have slain my brother, ' he said to himself, 'mywife has forsaken me; I am miserable and alone. What shall I do? Goback to Wayland, or follow Eigil into the river? No. After all Imay find my wife. The Norns do not always bring misfortune. ' [Illustration: Slagfid pursues the Wraith over the Mountains] As he spoke a light gleamed in the darkness of the night, and, lookingup, Slagfid saw it was shed by a bright star which seemed to bedrawing nearer to the earth, and the nearer it drew the more its shapeseemed to change into a human figure. Then Slagfid knew that it washis wife Swanvite floating just over his head and encircled by a rimof clear green light. He could not speak for joy, but held out hisarms to her. She beckoned to him to follow her, and, drawing out alute, played on it, and Slagfid, flinging away his sword and coat ofmail, began to climb the mountain. Half way up it seemed to him as ifa hand from behind was pulling him back, and turning he fancied hebeheld his mother and heard her say, 'My son, seek not after vainshadows, which yet may be your ruin. Strive not against the will ofOdin, nor against the Norns. ' The words caused Slagfid to pause for amoment, then the figure of Swanvite danced before him and beckoned tohim again, and his mother was forgotten. There were rivers to swim, precipices to climb, chasms to leap, but he passed them all gladlytill at last he noticed that the higher he got the less the figureseemed like Swanvite. He felt frightened and tried to turn back, buthe could not. On he had to go, till just as he reached the top of themountain the first rays of the sun appeared above the horizon, and hesaw that, instead of Swanvite, he had followed a black elf. He paused and looked over the green plain that lay thousands of feetbelow him, cool and inviting after the stony mountain up which he hadcome. 'A time of death, ' whispered the black elf in his ear, andSlagfid flung himself over the precipice. * * * * * After his brothers had forsaken him Wayland went to bed lonely andsad; but the next morning he got up and looked at the three keys thatthe Norns had left behind them. One was of copper, one was of iron, and one was of gold. Taking up the copper one, he walked to themountain till he reached a flat wall of rock. He laid his key againstit, and immediately the mountain flew open and showed a cave whereeverything was green. Green emeralds studded the rocks, green crystalshung from the ceiling or formed rows of pillars, even the copper whichmade the walls of the cave had a coating of green. Wayland broke off ahuge projecting lump and left the cave, which instantly closed up sothat not a crack remained to tell where the opening had been. He carried the lump home, and put it into the fire till all the earthand stones which clung to it were burned away; and then he fashionedthe pure copper into a helmet, and in the front of the helmet he setthree of his largest emeralds. This occupied some days, and when it was done he took the iron key, and went to another mountain, and laid the key against the rock, whichflew open like the other one. But now the walls were of iron, whichshone like blue steel, while sapphires glittered in the midst. From anopening above, the blue of the sky was reflected in the river beneath, and gentians and other blue flowers grew along the edge. Wayland gazedwith wonder at all these things; then he broke off a piece of theiron, and carried it home with him. For many days after he busiedhimself in forging a sword that was so supple he could wind it roundhis body, and so sharp it could cut through a rock as if it had been astick. In the handle and in the sheath he set some of the finestsapphires that he had brought away with him. When all was finished he laid the sword aside, and returned to themountain, with the golden key. This time the mountain parted, and hesaw before him an archway, with a glimpse of the sea in the distance. Before the entrance roses were lying, and inside the golden wallssparkled with rubies, while branches of red coral filled everycrevice. Vines clambered about the pillars, and bore large bunches ofred grapes. Wayland stood long, looking at these marvels; then he plucked some ofthe grapes, broke off a lump of gold, and set out home again. Next day he began to make himself a golden breastplate, and in it heplaced the jewels, and it was so bright that you could have seen theglitter a mile off. After he had tried all the three keys, and found out the secrets ofthe mountain, Wayland felt dull, and as if he had nothing to do or tothink about. So his mind went back to his brothers, and he wonderedhow they had fared all this time. The first thing he did was to go tothe edge of the forest, and see if he could find the two footprintsthey had left. He soon arrived at the spot where they had takenfarewell of each other, but a blue pool of water covered the trace ofEigil's foot. He turned to look at the impression made by Slagfid, butfresh green grass had sprung up over it, and on a birch-tree near it abird had perched, which sang a mournful song. Then Wayland knew that his brothers were dead, and he returned to hishut, grieving sore. * * * * * It was a long time before Wayland could bring himself to go out, sogreat was his sorrow; but at last he roused himself from his misery, and went to the mountain for more gold, meaning to work hard till thenine years should be over and he should get his wife back again. Allday long he stood in his forge, smelting and hammering, till he hadmade hundreds of suits of armour and thousands of swords, and his fametravelled far, so that all men spoke of his industry. At last he grewtired of making armour, and hammered a number of gold rings, which hestrung on strips of bark, and as he hammered he thought of Alvildahis wife, and how the rings would gleam on her arms when once she cameback again. Now at this time Nidud the Little reigned over Sweden, and was hatedby his people, for he was vain and cowardly and had many other badqualities. It came to his ears that away in the forests lived a manwho was very rich, and worked all day long in pure gold. The King wasone of those people who could not bear to see anyone with things whichhe did not himself possess, and he began to make plans how to get holdof Wayland's wealth. At length he called together his chiefcounsellors, and said to them: 'I hear a man has come to my kingdomwho is called Wayland, famous in many lands for his skill insword-making. I have set men to inquire after him, and I have foundthat when first he came here he was poor and of no account, so he musthave grown rich either by magic or else by violence. I command, therefore, that my stoutest men-at-arms should buckle on their ironbreastplates and ride in the dead of night to Wayland's house, andseize his goods and his person. ' 'King Nidud, ' answered one of the courtiers, 'that you should takehimself and his goods is well, but why send a troop of soldiersagainst one man? If he is no sorcerer, then a single one of yoursoldiers could take him captive; but if, on the other hand, he is amagician, then a whole army could do nothing with him against hiswill. ' At this reply the King flew in a rage, and, snatching up asword, ran it through his counsellor's body; then, turning to therest, told them that they would suffer the same fate if they refusedto submit to his will. So the men-at-arms put on all their armour, and, mounting theirhorses, set forth at sunset to Wayland's house, King Nidud riding attheir head. The door stood wide open, and they entered quietly, indeadly fear lest Wayland should attack them. But no one was inside, and they looked about, their eyes dazzled by the gold on the walls. The King gazed with wonder and delight at the long string of goldenrings, and, slipping the finest off a strip of bark, placed it on hisfinger. At that moment steps were heard in the outer court, and theKing hastily desired his followers to hide themselves and not to stirtill he signed to them to do so. In another moment Wayland stood inthe doorway, carrying on his shoulders a bear which he had killed withhis spear and was bringing home for supper. He was both tired andhungry, for he had been hunting all day; but he had first to skin theanimal, and make a bright fire, before he could cut off some steaksand cook them at the end of the spear. Then he poured some mead into acup and drank, as he always did, to the memory of his brothers. Afterthat he spread out his bear's skin to dry in the wind, and this donehe stretched himself out on his bed and went to sleep. King Nidud waited till he thought all was safe, then crept forth withhis men, who held heavy chains in their hands wherewith to chain thesleeping Wayland. But the task was harder than they expected, and hestarted up in wrath, asking why he should be treated so. 'If you wantmy gold, take it and release me. It is useless fighting against suchodds. ' 'I am no robber, ' said the King, 'but Nidud your sovereign. ' 'You do me much honour, ' replied Wayland, 'but what have I done to beloaded with chains like this?' 'Wayland, I know you well, ' said Nidud. 'Poor enough you were when youcame from Finland, and now your jewels are finer and your drinkingcups heavier than mine. ' 'If I am indeed a thief, ' answered Wayland, 'then you do well to loadme with chains and lead me bound into your dungeons; but if not, I askagain, Why do you misuse me?' 'Riches do not come of themselves, ' said Nidud, 'and if you are not athief, then you must be a magician and must be watched. ' 'If I were a magician, ' answered Wayland, 'it would be easy for me toburst these bonds. I know not that ever I have wronged any man, but ifhe can prove it I will restore it to him tenfold. As to the gifts thatmay come from the gods, no man should grudge them to his fellow. Therefore release me, O King, and I will pay whatever ransom you mayfix. ' But Nidud only bade his guards take him away, and Wayland, seeing thatresistance availed nothing, went with them quietly. By the King'sorders he was thrown into a dark hole fifteen fathoms under ground, and the soldiers then came and robbed the house of all its treasures, which they took to the Palace. The ring which Wayland had made for hiswife, Nidud gave to his daughter Banvilda. One day the Queen was playing the harp in her own room when the Kingcame in to ask her counsel how best to deal with Wayland, as he didnot think it wise to put him to death, for he hoped to make someprofit out of his skill. 'His heart will beat high, ' said the Queen, 'when he sees his good sword, and beholds his ring on Banvilda'sfinger. But cut asunder the sinews of his strength, so that he cannever more escape from us, and keep him a prisoner on the island ofSavarsted. ' The King was pleased with the Queen's words, and sent soldiers tocarry Wayland to the tower on the island. The sinews of his leg werecut so that he could not swim away; but they gave him his boots, andthe chests of gold they had found in his house. Here he was left, withnothing to do from morning till night but to make helmets and drinkingcups and splendid armour for the King. On this island Wayland remained for a whole year, chained to a stoneand visited by no one but the King, who came from time to time to seehow his prisoner was getting on with a suit of golden armour he hadbeen ordered to make. The shield was also of gold, and on it Waylandhad beaten out a history of the gods and their great deeds. He wasvery miserable, for the hope of revenge which had kept him aliveseemed as far off as ever in its fulfilment, and finding a sword hehad lately forged lying close to his hand, he seized it, with theintent of putting an end to his wretched life. He had hardly stretchedout his hand when a bird began to sing at the iron bars of his window, while the evening sun shone into his prison. 'I should like to see theworld once more, ' thought he, and, raising himself on the stone towhich his chain was fastened, he was able to look at what lay beneathhim. The sea washed the base of the rock on which the tower was built, and on a neck of land a little way off some children were playingbefore the door of a hut. Everything was bathed in red light from theglow of the setting sun. Wayland stood quite still on the top of the stone, gazing at the scenewith all his eyes, yet thinking of the land of his birth, which was sodifferent. Then he looked again at the sea, which was already turningto steel, and in the distance he saw something moving on the waves. Asit came nearer he discovered it was a young Nixie, or water sprite, and she held a lyre in her hand, and sang a song which blended withthe murmur of the waves and the notes of the bird. And the song putnew life and courage into his heart, for it told him that if he wouldendure and wait the pleasure of the gods, joy would be his one day. The Nixie finished her song, and smiled up at Wayland at the windowbefore turning and swimming over the waves till she dived beneaththem. That same instant the bird flew away, and the moon was coveredby a cloud. But Wayland's heart was cheered, and when he lay down torest he slept quietly. Some days later the King paid another visit, and suddenly espied thethree keys which had been hidden in a corner with some of Wayland'stools. He at once asked Wayland what they were, and when he would nottell him the King grew so angry that, seizing an axe, he declared thathe would put his prisoner to death unless he confessed all he knew. There was no help for it, and Wayland had to say how he came by themand what wonders they wrought. The King heard him with delight andwent away, taking the keys with him. No time was lost in preparing for a journey to the mountains, and whenhe reached the spot described by Wayland he divided his followers intothree parties, sending two to await him some distance off, and keepingthe third to enter the mountain with himself, if the copper key didthe wonders it had done before. So he gave it to one of the bravest ofhis men, and told him to lay it against the side of the mountain. Theman obeyed, and instantly the mountain split from top to bottom. TheKing bade them enter, never doubting that rich spoils awaited him; butinstead the men sank into a green marsh, which swallowed up many ofthem, while the rest were stung to death by the green serpents hangingfrom the roof. Those who, like the King, were near the entrance aloneescaped. As soon as he had recovered from the terror into which this adventurehad thrown him he commanded that it should be kept very secret fromthe other two parties, and desired Storbiorn, his Chamberlain, to takethe key of iron and the key of gold and deliver them to the leaders ofthe divisions he had left behind, with orders to try their fortune indifferent parts of the mountain. 'Give the keys to me, my lord King, 'answered Storbiorn, 'and I shall know what to do with them. Thesemagicians may do their worst, my heart will not beat one whit thefaster; and I will see all that happens. ' So he went and gave hismessage to the two divisions, and one stayed behind while Storbiornwent to the mountain with the other. When they arrived the man who held the key laid it against the rock, which burst asunder, and half the men entered at Storbiorn's command. Suddenly an icy blue stream poured upon them from the depths of thecavern and drowned most of them before they had time to fly. Onlythose behind escaped, and Storbiorn bade them go instantly to the Kingand tell him what had befallen them. Then he went to the third troopand marched with them to the rock, where he gave the golden key to oneof the men, and ordered him to try it. The rock flew open at once, andStorbiorn told the men to enter, taking care, however, to keep behindhimself. They obeyed and found themselves in a lovely golden cave, whose walls were lit up by thousands of precious stones of every hue. There was neither sight nor sound to frighten them, and evenStorbiorn, when he saw the gold, forgot his prudence and his fears, and followed them in. In a moment a red fire burst out with a terrificnoise, and clouds of smoke poured over them, so that they fell downchoked into the flames. Only one man escaped, and he ran back as fastas he could to the King to tell him of the fate of his army. All this time Wayland was working quietly in his island prison waitingfor the day of his revenge. The suit of golden armour which the Kinghad commanded kept him busy day and night, and, besides the wonderfulshield with figures of the gods, he had wrought a coat of mail, ahelmet, and armour for the thighs, such as never had been seen before. The King had invited all his great nobles to meet him at the Palacewhen he returned from the mountain, that they might both see hisarmour and behold all the precious things he should bring with himfrom the caverns. When Nidud reached his Palace the Queen and Banvilda, their daughter, came forth to meet him, and told him that the great hall was alreadyfull of guests, expecting the wonders he had brought. The King saidlittle about his adventures, but went into the armoury to put on hisarmour in order to appear before his nobles. Piece by piece hefastened it, but he found the helmet so heavy that he could hardlybear it on his head. However, he did not look properly dressed withoutit, so he had to wear it, though it felt as if a whole mountain waspressing on his forehead. Then, buckling on the sword which Waylandhad forged, he entered the hall, and seated himself on the throne. TheEarls were struck dumb by his splendour, and thought at first that itwas the god Thor himself, till they looked under the helmet and sawthe ugly little man with the pale cowardly face. So they turned theireyes gladly on the Queen and Princess, both tall and beautiful andglittering with jewels, though inwardly they were not much better thanthe King. A magnificent dinner made the nobles feel more at ease, and theybegged the King to tell them what man there was in Sweden so skilledin smith's work. Now Nidud had drunk deeply of mead, and longed torevenge himself on Wayland, whom he held to have caused the loss ofhis army; so he gave the key of the tower to one of his Earls, andbade him take two men and bring forth Wayland, adding that if the nexttime he visited the tower he should find a grain of gold missing, theyshould pay for it with their lives. The three men got a boat, and rowed towards the tower, but on the wayone who, like the King, had drunk too much mead, fell into the sea andwas drowned. The other two reached the tower in safety, and findingWayland, blackened with dust, busy at his forge, bade him come just ashe was to the boat. With his hands bound they led him before the King, and Eyvind the Earl bowed low and said, 'We have done your desire, SirKing, and must now hasten back to look for Gullorm, who fell into thesea. ' 'Leave him where he is, ' replied Nidud; 'if he is not drowned by nowhe will never drown at all, but in token of your obedience to myorders I will give you each these golden chains. ' [Illustration: Wayland mocked by the Queen and Banvilda] The guests had not thought to see the man who had made such wonderfularmour helpless and a cripple, and said so to the King. 'He was oncehandsome and stately enough, ' answered Nidud, 'but I have bowed hisstubborn head. ' And the Queen and her daughter joined in saying, 'Themaidens of Finland will hardly fancy a lover who cannot standupright. ' But Wayland stood as if he heard nothing till the King's sonsnatched a bone from the table and threw it at his head. Then hispatience gave way, and, seizing the bone, he beat Nidud about the headwith it till the straps of the helmet gave way and the helmet itselffell off. The guests all took his side, and said that, though acripple, he was braver than many men whose legs were straight, andbegged the King to allow him to go back to his prison without beingteased further. But the King cried that Wayland had done mischiefenough, and must now be punished, and told them the story of his visitto the mountain and the loss of his followers. 'It would be a smallpunishment to put him to death, ' he said, 'for to so wretched acripple death would be welcome. He may use the gold that is left, buthenceforth he shall only have one eye to work with, ' and the Princesscame forward and carried out the cruel sentence herself. And Waylandbore it all, saying nothing, but praying the gods to grant himvengeance. One night Wayland sat filled with grief and despair at his window, looking out over the sea, when he caught sight of two red lights, bobbing in his direction. He watched them curiously till they vanishedbeneath the tower; and soon the key of the outer door turned, and twomen, whom he knew to be the King's sons, Gram and Skule, talked softlytogether. He kept very still, so that they might think he was asleep, and he heard Skule say: 'Let us first get the golden key from him, andwhen we have taken from the chest as much as we can carry we will puthim to death, lest he should betray us to our father. ' Then Waylandtook a large sword which lay by his side and hid it behind his seat, and he had scarcely done so when the princes entered the prison. 'Goodgreeting to you, ' said Gram. 'Nidud our father has gone a journey intothe country, and as he is so greedy of wealth that he will give usnone, we have come here to get it for ourselves. Hand us the key andswear not to tell our father, or you shall die. ' 'My good lords, ' answered Wayland, 'your request is reasonable, and Iam not so foolish as to refuse it. Here is the key, and in the name ofthe gods I will swear not to betray you. ' The brothers took the key, and opened the chest that stood by Wayland, which was still half full of gold. It dazzled their eyes, and theyboth stooped down so as to see it better. This was what Wayland hadwaited for, and, seizing his sword, he cut off their heads, which fellinto the chest. He then shut down the lid, and dug a grave for thebodies in the floor of his dungeon. Afterwards he dried the skulls inthe sun, and made them into two drinking cups wrought with gold. Theeyes he set with precious stones and fashioned into armlets, while theteeth he filed till they were shaped like pearls, and strung like anecklace. As soon as the King came back from his journey he paid a visit toWayland, who produced the drinking cups, which he said were made ofsome curious shells washed up in a gale close to his window. Thearmlet he sent as a present to the Queen, and the bracelet to thePrincess. [Illustration: The Merman warns Banvilda in vain. ] After some days had passed, and Gram and Skule had not returned, theKing ordered a search to be made for them, and that very evening somesailors brought back their boat, which had drifted into the open sea. Their bodies, of course, were not to be found, and the King ordered asplendid funeral feast to be prepared to do them honour. On thisoccasion the new drinking cups were filled with mead, and, besides hernecklace, Banvilda wore the ring which her father had taken longago from Wayland's house. As was the custom, the feast lasted long, and the dead Princes were forgotten by the guests, who drank deeplyand grew merry. But at midnight their gaiety suddenly came to an end. The King was in the act of drinking from the cup of mead when he felta violent pain in his head and let the vessel fall. The hues of thearmlet became so strange and dreadful that the Queen's eyes sufferedagony from looking at them, and she tore the armlets off her; whileBanvilda was seized with such severe toothache that she could sit attable no longer. The guests at once took leave, but it was not tillthe sun rose that the pains of their hosts went away. In the torture of toothache which she had endured during the nightBanvilda had dashed her arm against the wall, and had broken some ofthe ornaments off the ring. She feared to tell her father, who wouldbe sure to punish her, and was in despair how to get the ring mendedwhen she caught sight of the island on which Wayland's tower stood. 'If I had not mocked at him he might have helped me now, ' thought she. But no other way seemed to offer itself, and in the evening sheloosened a boat and began to row to the tower. On the way she met anold merman with a long beard, floating on the waves, who warned hernot to go on; but she paid no heed, and only rowed the faster. She entered the tower by a false key, and, holding the ring out toWayland, begged him to mend it as fast as possible, so that she mightreturn before she was missed. Wayland answered her with courtesy, andpromised to do his best, but said that she would have to blow thebellows to keep the forge fire alight. 'How comes it that thesebellows are sprinkled with blood?' asked Banvilda. 'It is the blood of two young sea dogs, ' answered Wayland; 'theytroubled me for long, but I caught them when they least expected it. But blow, I pray you, the bellows harder, or I shall never befinished. ' Banvilda did as she was told, but soon grew tired and thirsty, andbegged Wayland to give her something to drink. He mixed somethingsweet in a cup, which she swallowed hastily, and soon fell fast asleepon a bench. Then Wayland bound her hands, and placed her in the boat, after which he cut the rope that held it and let it drift out to sea. This done, he shut the door of the tower, and, taking a piece of gold, he engraved on it the history of all that had happened and put itwhere it must meet the King's eye when next he came. 'Now is my hourcome, ' he cried with joy, snatching his spear from the wall, butbefore he could throw himself on it he heard a distant song and thenotes of a lute. By this time the sun was high in the heavens, yet its brightness didnot hinder Wayland from seeing a large star, which was floatingtowards him, and a brilliant rainbow spanned the sky. The flowers onthe island unfolded themselves as the star drew near, and he couldsmell the smell of the roses on the shore. And now Wayland saw it wasno star, but the golden chariot of Freya the goddess, whose bluemantle floated behind her till it was lost in the blue of the sky. Onher left was a maiden dressed in garlands of fresh green leaves, andon her right was one clad in a garment of red. At the sight Wayland'sheart beat high, for he thought of the lump of gold set with jewelswhich he and his brothers had found in the mountain so long ago. Fairies fluttered round them, mermaids rose from the depths of the seato welcome them, and as Freya and her maidens entered the prisonWayland saw that she who wore the red garment was really Alvilda. 'Wayland, ' said the goddess, 'your time of woe is past. You havesuffered much and have avenged your wrongs, and now Odin has grantedmy prayer that Alvilda shall stay by you for the rest of your life, and when you die she shall carry you in her arms to the country ofWalhalla, where you shall forge golden armour and fashion drinkinghorns for the gods. ' [Illustration: THE CHARIOT OF FREYA] When Freya had spoken, she beckoned to the green maiden, who held inher hand a root and a knife. She cut pieces off the root and laid themon Wayland's feet, and on his eye, then, placing some leaves from hergarland over the whole, she breathed gently on it. 'Eyr the physicianhas healed me, ' cried Wayland, and the fairies took him in their armsand bore him across the waves to a bower in the forest, where hedreamed that Alvilda and Slagfid and Eigil were all bending over him. When he woke Alvilda was indeed there, and he seemed to catch glimpsesof his brothers amid the leaves of the trees. 'Arise, my husband, 'said Alvilda, 'and go straight to the Court of Nidud. He still sleeps, and knows nothing. Throw this mantle on your shoulders, and they willtake you for his servant. ' So Wayland went, and reached the royal chamber, and in his sleep theKing trembled, though he knew not that Wayland was near. 'Awake, 'cried Wayland, and the King woke, and asked who had dared to disturbhim thus. 'Be not angry, ' answered Wayland; 'had you slain Wayland long ago, themisfortune that I have to tell you of would never have happened. ' 'Do not name his name, ' said the King, 'since he sent me thosedrinking cups a burning fever has laid hold upon me. ' 'They were not shells, as he told you, ' answered Wayland, 'but theskulls of your two sons, Sir King. Their bodies you will find inWayland's tower. As for your daughter she is tossing, bound, on thewild waves of the sea. But now I, Wayland, have come to give you yourdeathblow----' But before he could draw his sword fear had slain theKing yet more quickly. So Wayland went back to Alvilda, and they went into another country, where he became a famous smith, and he lived to a good old age; andwhen he died he was carried in Alvilda's arms to Walhalla, as Freyahad promised. THE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD _THE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD_ Many hundreds of years ago, when the Plantagenets were kings, Englandwas so covered with woods that a squirrel was said to be able to hopfrom tree to tree from the Severn to the Humber. It must have beenvery different to look at from the country we travel through now; butstill there were roads that ran from north to south and from east towest, for the use of those that wished to leave their homes, and atcertain times of the year these roads were thronged with people. Pilgrims going to some holy shrine passed along, merchants takingtheir wares to Court, fat Abbots and Bishops ambling by on palfreysnearly as fat as themselves, to bear their part in the King's Council, and, more frequently still, a solitary Knight, seeking adventures. Besides the broad roads there were small tracks and little greenpaths, and these led to clumps of low huts, where dwelt the peasants, charcoal-burners, and plough-men, and here and there some largerclearing than usual told that the house of a yeoman was near. Now andthen as you passed through the forest you might ride by a splendidabbey, and catch a glimpse of monks in long black or white gowns, fishing in the streams and rivers that abound in this part of England, or casting nets in the fish ponds which were in the midst of the abbeygardens. Or you might chance to see a castle with round turrets andhigh battlements, circled by strong walls, and protected by a moatfull of water. This was the sort of England into which the famous Robin Hood wasborn. We do not know anything about him, who he was, or where helived, or what evil deed he had done to put him beyond the King'sgrace. For he was an outlaw, and any man might kill him and never paypenalty for it. But, outlaw or not, the poor people loved him andlooked on him as their friend, and many a stout fellow came to joinhim, and led a merry life in the greenwood, with moss and fern forbed, and for meat the King's deer, which it was death to slay. Peasants of all sorts, tillers of the land, yeomen, and as some sayKnights, went on their ways freely, for of them Robin took no toll;but lordly churchmen with money-bags well filled, or proud Bishopswith their richly dressed followers, trembled as they drew near toSherwood Forest--who was to know whether behind every tree there didnot lurk Robin Hood or one of his men? THE COMING OF LITTLE JOHN One day Robin was walking alone in the wood, and reached a river whichwas spanned by a very narrow bridge, over which one man only couldpass. In the midst stood a stranger, and Robin bade him go back andlet him go over. 'I am no man of yours, ' was all the answer Robin got, and in anger he drew his bow and fitted an arrow to it. 'Would youshoot a man who has no arms but a staff?' asked the stranger in scorn;and with shame Robin laid down his bow, and unbuckled an oaken stickat his side. 'We will fight till one of us falls into the water, ' hesaid; and fight they did, till the stranger planted a blow so wellthat Robin rolled over into the river. 'You are a brave soul, ' saidhe, when he had waded to land, and he blew a blast with his horn whichbrought fifty good fellows, clad in green, to the little bridge. 'Haveyou fallen into the river that your clothes are wet?' asked one; andRobin made answer, 'No, but this stranger, fighting on the bridge, gotthe better of me, and tumbled me into the stream. ' At this the foresters seized the stranger, and would have ducked himhad not their leader bade them stop, and begged the stranger to staywith them and make one of themselves. 'Here is my hand, ' replied thestranger, 'and my heart with it. My name, if you would know it, isJohn Little. ' 'That must be altered, ' cried Will Scarlett; 'we will call a feast, and henceforth, because he is full seven feet tall and round the waistat least an ell, he shall be called Little John. ' And thus it was done; but at the feast Little John, who always likedto know exactly what work he had to do, put some questions to RobinHood. 'Before I join hands with you, tell me first what sort of lifeis this you lead? How am I to know whose goods I shall take, and whoseI shall leave? Whom I shall beat, and whom I shall refrain frombeating?' And Robin answered: 'Look that you harm not any tiller of the ground, nor any yeoman of the greenwood--no, nor no Knight nor Squire, unlessyou have heard him ill spoken of. But if Bishops or Archbishops comeyour way, see that you spoil _them_, and mark that you always hold inyour mind the High Sheriff of Nottingham. ' This being settled, Robin Hood declared Little John to be second incommand to himself among the brotherhood of the forest, and the newoutlaw never forgot to 'hold in his mind' the High Sheriff ofNottingham, who was the bitterest enemy the foresters had. LITTLE JOHN'S FIRST ADVENTURE Robin Hood, however, had no liking for a company of idle men abouthim, and he at once sent off Little John and Will Scarlett to thegreat road known as Watling Street, with orders to hide among thetrees and wait till some adventure might come to them; and if theytook captive Earl or Baron, Abbot or Knight, he was to be broughtunharmed back to Robin Hood. But all along Watling Street the road was bare; white and hard it layin the sun, without the tiniest cloud of dust to show that a richcompany might be coming: east and west the land lay still. At length, just where a side path turned into the broad highway, thererode a Knight, and a sorrier man than he never sat a horse on summerday. One foot only was in the stirrup, the other hung carelessly byhis side; his head was bowed, the reins dropped loose, and his horsewent on as he would. At so sad a sight the hearts of the outlaws werefilled with pity, and Little John fell on his knees and bade theKnight welcome in the name of his master. 'Who is your master?' asked the Knight. 'Robin Hood, ' answered Little John. 'I have heard much good of him, ' replied the Knight, 'and will go withyou gladly. ' Then they all set off together, tears running down the Knight's cheeksas he rode, but he said nothing, neither was anything said to him. Andin this wise they came to Robin Hood. 'Welcome, Sir Knight, ' cried he, 'and thrice welcome, for I waited tobreak my fast till you or some other had come to me. ' 'God save you, good Robin, ' answered the Knight, and after they hadwashed themselves in the stream they sat down to dine off bread andwine, with flesh of the King's deer, and swans and pheasants. 'Such adinner have I not had for three weeks and more, ' said the Knight. 'Andif I ever come again this way, good Robin, I will give you as fine adinner as you have given me. ' 'I thank you, ' replied Robin, 'my dinner is always welcome; still, Iam none so greedy but I can wait for it. But before you go, pay me, Ipray you, for the food which you have had. It was never the custom fora yeoman to pay for a Knight. ' 'My bag is empty, ' said the Knight, 'save for ten shillings only. ' 'Go, Little John, and look in his wallet, ' said Robin, 'and, SirKnight, if in truth you have no more, not one penny will I take, nay, I will give you all that you shall need. ' So Little John spread out the Knight's mantle, and opened the bag, andtherein lay ten shillings and naught besides. 'What tidings, Little John?' cried his master. 'Sir, the Knight speaks truly, ' said Little John. 'Then fill a cup of the best wine and tell me, Sir Knight, whether itis your own ill doings which have brought you to this sorry pass. ' 'For an hundred years my fathers have dwelt in the forest, ' answeredthe Knight, 'and four hundred pounds might they spend yearly. Butwithin two years misfortune has befallen me, and my wife and childrenalso. ' 'How did this evil come to pass?' asked Robin. 'Through my own folly, ' answered the Knight, 'and because of the greatlove I bore my son, who would never be guided of my counsel, and slew, ere he was twenty years old, a Knight of Lancaster and his Squire. Fortheir deaths I had to pay a large sum, which I could not raisewithout giving my lands in pledge to the rich Abbot of St. Mary's. IfI cannot bring him the money by a certain day they will be lost to mefor ever. ' 'What is the sum?' asked Robin. 'Tell me truly. ' 'It is four hundred pounds, ' said the Knight. 'And what will you do if you lose your lands?' asked Robin again. 'Hide myself over the sea, ' said the Knight, 'and bid farewell to myfriends and country. There is no better way open to me. ' At this tears fell from his eyes, and he turned him to depart. 'Goodday, my friend, ' he said to Robin, 'I cannot pay you what I should--'But Robin held him fast. 'Where _are_ your friends?' asked he. 'Sir, they have all forsaken me since I became poor, and they turnaway their heads if we meet upon the road, though when I was rich theywere ever in my castle. ' When Little John and Will Scarlett and the rest heard this they weptfor very shame and fury and Robin bade them fill a cup of the bestwine, and give it to the Knight. 'Have you no one who would stay surety for you?' said he. 'None, ' answered the Knight, 'but only Our Lady, who has never yetfailed to help me. ' 'You speak well, ' said Robin, 'and you, Little John, go to my treasurechest, and bring me thence four hundred pounds. And be sure you countit truly. ' So Little John went, and Will Scarlett, and they brought back themoney. 'Sir, ' said Little John, when Robin had counted it and found it nomore nor no less, 'look at his clothes, how thin they are! You havestores of garments, green and scarlet, in your coffers--no merchant inEngland can boast the like. I will measure some out with my bow. ' Andthus he did. 'Master, ' spoke Little John again, 'there is still something else. Youmust give him a horse, that he may go as beseems his quality to theAbbey. ' 'Take the grey horse, ' said Robin, 'and put a new saddle on it, andtake likewise a good palfrey and a pair of boots, with gilt spurs onthem. And as it were a shame for a Knight to ride by himself on thiserrand, I will lend you Little John as Squire--perchance he may standyou in yeoman's stead. ' 'When shall we meet again?' asked the Knight. 'This day twelve months, ' said Robin, 'under the greenwood tree. ' Then the Knight rode on his way, with Little John behind him, and ashe went he thought of Robin Hood and his men, and blessed them for thegoodness they had shown towards him. 'To-morrow, ' he said to Little John, 'I must be at the Abbey of St. Mary, which is in the city of York, for if I am but so much as a daylate my lands are lost for ever, and though I were to bring the moneyI should not be suffered to redeem them. ' * * * * * Now the Abbot had been counting the days as well as the Knight, andthe next morning he said to his monks: 'This day year there came aKnight and borrowed of me four hundred pounds, giving his lands insurety. And if he come not to pay his debt ere midnight tolls theywill be ours for ever. ' 'It is full early yet, ' answered the Prior, 'he may still be coming. ' 'He is far beyond the sea, ' said the Abbot, 'and suffers from hungerand cold. How is he to get here?' 'It were a shame, ' said the Prior, 'for you to take his lands. And youdo him much wrong if you drive such a hard bargain. ' 'He is dead or hanged, ' spake a fat-headed monk who was the cellarer, 'and we shall have his four hundred pounds to spend on our gardensand our wines, ' and he went with the Abbot to attend the court ofjustice wherein the Knight's lands would be declared forfeited by theHigh Justiciar. 'If he come not this day, ' cried the Abbot, rubbing his hands, 'if hecome not this day, they will be ours. ' 'He will not come yet, ' said the Justiciar, but he knew not that theKnight was already at the outer gate, and Little John with him. 'Welcome, Sir Knight, ' said the porter. 'The horse that you ride isthe noblest that ever I saw. Let me lead them both to the stable, thatthey may have food and rest. ' 'They shall not pass these gates, ' answered the Knight sternly, and heentered the hall alone, where the monks were sitting at meat, andknelt down and bowed to them. 'I have come back, my lord, ' he said to the Abbot, who had justreturned from the court. 'I have come back this day as I promised. ' 'Have you brought my money?' was all the Abbot said. 'Not a penny, ' answered the Knight, who wished to see how the Abbotwould treat him. 'Then what do you here without it?' cried the Abbot in angry tones. 'I have come to pray you for a longer day, ' answered the Knightmeekly. 'The day was fixed and cannot be gainsaid, ' replied the Justiciar, butthe Knight only begged that he would stand his friend and help him inhis strait. 'I am with the Abbot, ' was all the Justiciar would answer. 'Good Sir Abbot, be my friend, ' prayed the Knight again, 'and give meone chance more to get the money and free my lands. I will serve youday and night till I have four hundred pounds to redeem them. ' But the Abbot only swore a great oath, and vowed that the money mustbe paid that day or the lands be forfeited. The Knight stood up straight and tall: 'It is well, ' said he, 'toprove one's friends against the hour of need, ' and he looked the Abbotfull in the face, and the Abbot felt uneasy, he did not know why, andhated the Knight more than ever. 'Out of my hall, false Knight!' criedhe, pretending to a courage which he did not feel. But the Knightstayed where he was, and answered him, 'You lie, Abbot. Never was Ifalse, and that I have shown in jousts and in tourneys. ' 'Give him two hundred pounds more, ' said the Justiciar to the Abbot, 'and keep the lands yourself. ' 'No, by Heaven!' answered the Knight, 'not if you offered me athousand pounds would I do it! Neither Justiciar, Abbot, nor Monkshall be heir of mine. ' Then he strode up to a table and emptied outfour hundred pounds. 'Take your gold, Sir Abbot, which you lent to mea year agone. Had you but received me civilly, I would have paid yousomething more. 'Sir Abbot, and ye men of law, Now have I kept my day! Now shall I have my land again, For aught that you may say. ' So he passed out of the hall singing merrily, leaving the Abbotstaring silently after him, and rode back to his house in Verisdale, where his wife met him at the gate. 'Welcome, my lord, ' said his lady, 'Sir, lost is all your good. ' 'Be merry, dame, ' said the Knight, 'And pray for Robin Hood. ' 'But for his kindness, we had been beggars. ' After this the Knight dwelt at home, looking after his lands, andsaving his money carefully till the four hundred pounds lay ready forRobin Hood. Then he bought a hundred bows and a hundred arrows, andevery arrow was an ell long, and had a head of silver and peacock'sfeathers. And clothing himself in white and red, and with a hundredmen in his train, he set off to Sherwood Forest. On the way he passed an open space near a bridge where there was awrestling, and the Knight stopped and looked, for he himself had takenmany a prize in that sport. Here the prizes were such as to fill anyman with envy; a fine horse, saddled and bridled, a great white bull, a pair of gloves, a ring of bright red gold, and a pipe of wine. Therewas not a yeoman present who did not hope to win one of them. But whenthe wrestling was over, the yeoman who had beaten them all was a manwho kept apart from his fellows, and was said to think much ofhimself. Therefore the men grudged him his skill, and set upon himwith blows, and would have killed him, had not the Knight, for love ofRobin Hood, taken pity on him, while his followers fought with thecrowd, and would not suffer them to touch the prizes a better man hadwon. When the wrestling was finished the Knight rode on, and there underthe greenwood tree, in the place appointed, he found Robin Hood andhis merry men waiting for him, according to the tryst that they hadfixed last year: 'God save thee, Robin Hood, And all this company. ' 'Welcome be thou, gentle Knight, And right welcome to me. ' 'Hast thou thy land again?' said Robin, 'Truth then tell thou me. ' 'Yea, for God, ' said the Knight, 'And that thank I God and thee. ' 'Have here four hundred pounds, ' said the Knight, 'The which you lent to me; And here are also twenty marks For your courtesie. ' But Robin would not take the money. A miracle had happened, he said, and Our Lady had paid it to him, and shame would it be for him to takeit twice over. Then he noticed for the first time the bows and arrowswhich the Knight had brought, and asked what they were. 'A poorpresent to you, ' answered the Knight, and Robin, who would not beoutdone, sent Little John once more to his treasury, and bade himbring forth four hundred pounds, which was given to the Knight. Afterthat they parted, in much love, and Robin prayed the Knight if he werein any strait 'to let him know at the greenwood tree, and while therewas any gold there he should have it. ' HOW LITTLE JOHN BECAME THE SHERIFF'S SERVANT Meanwhile the High Sheriff of Nottingham proclaimed a greatshooting-match in a broad open space, and Little John was minded totry his skill with the rest. He rode through the forest, whistlinggaily to himself, for well he knew that not one of Robin Hood's mencould send an arrow as straight as he, and he felt little fear ofanyone else. When he reached the trysting place he found a largecompany assembled, the Sheriff with them, and the rules of the matchwere read out: where they were to stand, how far the mark was to be, and how that three tries should be given to every man. Some of the shooters shot near the mark, some of them even touched it, but none but Little John split the slender wand of willow with everyarrow that flew from his bow. And at this sight the Sheriff ofNottingham swore a great oath that Little John was the best archerthat ever he had seen, and asked him who he was and where he was born, and vowed that if he would enter his service he would give twentymarks a year to so good a bowman. Little John, who did not wish to confess that he was one of RobinHood's men and an outlaw, said his name was Reynold Greenleaf, andthat he was in the service of a Knight, whose leave he must get beforehe became the servant of any man. This was given heartily by theKnight, and Little John bound himself to the Sheriff for the space oftwelve months, and was given a good white horse to ride on whenever hewent abroad. But for all that he did not like his bargain, and madeup his mind to do the Sheriff, who was hated of the outlaws, all themischief he could. His chance came on a Wednesday when the Sheriff always went huntingand Little John lay in bed till noon, when he grew hungry. Then he gotup, and told the steward that he wanted some dinner. The stewardanswered he should have nothing till the Sheriff came home, so LittleJohn grumbled and left him, and sought out the butler. Here he was nomore successful than before; the butler just went to the buttery doorand locked it, and told Little John that he would have to make himselfhappy till his lord returned. Rude words mattered nothing to Little John, who was not accustomed tobe baulked by trifles, so he gave a mighty kick which burst open thedoor, and then ate and drank as much as he would, and when he hadfinished all there was in the buttery, he went down into the kitchen. Now the Sheriff's cook was a strong man and a bold one, and had nomind to let another man play the king in his kitchen; so he gaveLittle John three smart blows, which were returned heartily. 'Thou arta brave man and hardy, ' said Little John, 'and a good fighter withal. I have a sword, take you another, and let us see which is the betterman of us twain. ' The cook did as he was bid, and for two hours they fought, neither ofthem harming the other. 'Fellow, ' said Little John at last, 'you areone of the best swordsmen that I ever saw--and if you could shoot aswell with the bow I would take you back to the merry greenwood, andRobin Hood would give you twenty marks a year and two changes ofclothing. ' 'Put up your sword, ' said the cook, 'and I will go with you. But firstwe will have some food in my kitchen, and carry off a little of thegold that is in the Sheriff's treasure house. ' They ate and drank till they wanted no more, then they broke the locksof the treasure house, and took of the silver as much as they couldcarry, three hundred pounds and more, and departed unseen by anyone toRobin in the forest. 'Welcome! Welcome!' cried Robin when he saw them, 'welcome, too, tothe fair yeoman you bring with you. What tidings from Nottingham, Little John?' 'The proud Sheriff greets you, and sends you by my hand his cook andhis silver vessels, and three hundred pounds and three also. ' Robin shook his head, for he knew better than to believe Little John'stale. 'It was never by his good will that you brought such treasure tome, ' he answered, and Little John, fearing that he might be ordered totake it back again, slipped away into the forest to carry out a planthat had just come into his head. He ran straight on for five miles, till he came up with the Sheriff, who was still hunting, and flung himself on his knees before him. 'Reynold Greenleaf, ' cried the Sheriff, 'what are you doing here, andwhere have you been?' 'I have been in the forest, where I saw a fair hart of a green colour, and sevenscore deer feeding hard by. ' 'That sight would I see too, ' said the Sheriff. 'Then follow me, ' answered Little John, and he ran back the way hecame, the Sheriff following on horseback, till they turned a corner ofthe forest, and found themselves in Robin Hood's presence. 'Sir, hereis the master-hart, ' said Little John. Still stood the proud Sheriff, A sorry man was he, 'Woe be to you, Reynold Greenleaf, Thou hast betrayed me!' 'It was not my fault, ' answered Little John, 'but the fault of yourservants, master. For they would not give me my dinner, ' and he wentaway to see to the supper. It was spread under the greenwood tree, and they sat down to it, hungry men all. But when the Sheriff saw himself served from his ownvessels, his appetite went from him. 'Take heart, man, ' said Robin Hood, 'and think not we will poison you. For charity's sake, and for the love of Little John, your life shallbe granted you. Only for twelve months you shall dwell with me, andlearn what it is to be an outlaw. ' To the Sheriff this punishment was worse to bear than the loss of goldor silver dishes, and earnestly he begged Robin Hood to set him free, vowing he would prove himself the best friend that ever the forestershad. Neither Robin nor any of his men believed him, but he took a greatoath that he would never seek to do them harm, and that if he foundany of them in evil plight he would deliver them out of it. With thatRobin let him go. HOW ROBIN MET FRIAR TUCK In many ways life in the forest was dull in the winter, and often thedays passed slowly; but in summer, when the leaves grew green, andflowers and ferns covered all the woodland, Robin Hood and his menwould come out of their warm resting places, like the rabbits and thesquirrels, and would play too. Races they ran, to stretch their legs, or leaping matches were arranged, or they would shoot at a mark. Anything was pleasant, when the grass was soft once more under theirfeet. * * * * * 'Who can kill a hart of grace five hundred paces off?' So said Robin to his men in the bright May time; and they went intothe wood and tried their skill, and in the end it was Little John whobrought down the 'hart of grace, ' to the great joy of Robin Hood. 'Iwould ride my horse a hundred miles to find one who could match withthee, ' he said to Little John, and Will Scarlett, who was perhapsrather jealous of this mighty deed, answered with a laugh, 'Therelives a friar in Fountains Abbey who would beat both him and you. ' Now Robin Hood did not like to be told that any man could shoot betterthan himself or his foresters, so he swore lustily that he wouldneither eat nor drink till he had seen that friar. Leaving his menwhere they were, he put on a coat of mail and a steel cap, took hisshield and sword, slung his bow over his shoulder, and filled hisquiver with arrows. Thus armed, he set forth to Fountains Dale. By the side of the river a friar was walking, armed like Robin, butwithout a bow. At this sight Robin jumped from his horse, which hetied to a thorn, and called to the friar to carry him over the wateror it would cost him his life. The friar said nothing, but hoisted Robin on his broad back andmarched into the river. Not a word was spoken till they reached theother side, when Robin leaped lightly down, and was going on his waywhen the friar stopped him. 'Not so fast, my fine fellow, ' said he. 'It is my turn now, and you shall take me across the river, or woewill betide you. ' So Robin carried him, and when they had reached theside from which they had started he set down the friar and jumped forthe second time on his back, and bade him take him whence he had come. The friar strode into the stream with his burden, but as soon as theygot to the middle he bent his head and Robin fell into the water. 'Nowyou can sink or swim as you like, ' said the friar, as he stood andlaughed. Robin Hood swam to a bush of golden broom, and pulled himself out ofthe water, and while the friar was scrambling out Robin fitted anarrow to his bow and let fly at him. But the friar quickly held up hisshield, and the arrow fell harmless. 'Shoot on, my fine fellow, shoot on all day if you like, ' shouted thefriar, and Robin shot till his arrows were gone, but always missed hismark. Then they took their swords, and at four of the afternoon theywere still fighting. By this time Robin's strength was wearing, and he felt he could notfight much more. 'A boon, a boon!' cried he. 'Let me but blow threeblasts on my horn, and I will thank you on my bended knees for it. ' The friar told him to blow as many blasts as he liked, and in aninstant the forest echoed with his horn; it was but a few minutesbefore 'half a hundred yeomen were racing over the lea. ' The friarstared when he saw them; then, turning to Robin, he begged of him aboon also, and leave being granted he gave three whistles, which werefollowed by the noise of a great crashing through the trees, as fiftygreat dogs bounded towards him. 'Here's a dog for each of your men, ' said the friar, 'and I myself foryou'; but the dogs did not listen to his words, for two of them rushedat Robin, and tore his mantle of Lincoln green from off his back. Hismen were too busy defending themselves to take heed of their master'splight, for every arrow shot at a dog was caught and held in thecreature's mouth. Robin's men were not used to fight with dogs, and felt they weregetting beaten. At last Little John bade the friar call off his dogs, and as he did not do so at once he let fly some arrows, which thistime left half a dozen dead on the ground. 'Hold, hold, my good fellow, ' said the friar, 'till your master and Ican come to a bargain, ' and when the bargain was made this was how itran. That the friar was to forswear Fountains Abbey and join RobinHood, and that he should be paid a golden noble every Sundaythroughout the year, besides a change of clothes on each holy day. This Friar had kept Fountains Dale Seven long years or more, There was neither Knight, nor Lord, nor Earl Could make him yield before. But now he became one of the most famous members of Robin Hood's menunder the name of Friar Tuck. HOW ROBIN HOOD AND LITTLE JOHN FELL OUT One Whitsunday morning, when the sun was shining and the birdssinging, Robin Hood called to Little John to come with him intoNottingham to hear Mass. As was their custom, they took their bows, and on the way Little John proposed that they should shoot a matchwith a penny for a wager. Robin, who held that he himself shot betterthan any man living, laughed in scorn, and told Little John that heshould have three tries to his master's one, which John without moreado accepted. But Robin soon repented both of his offer and his scorn, for Little John speedily won five shillings, whereat Robin becameangry and smote Little John with his hand. Little John was not the manto bear being treated so, and he told Robin roundly that he wouldnever more own him for master, and straightway turned back into thewood. At this Robin was ashamed of what he had done, but his pridewould not suffer him to say so, and he continued his way toNottingham, and entered the Church of St. Mary, not without secretfears, for the Sheriff of the town was ever his enemy. However, therehe was, and there he meant to stay. He knelt down before the great cross in the sight of all the people, but none knew him save one monk only, and he stole out of church andran to the Sheriff, and bade him come quickly and take his foe. TheSheriff was not slow to do the monk's bidding, and, calling his mento follow him, he marched to the church. The noise they made inentering caused Robin to look round. 'Alas, alas, ' he said to himself, 'now miss I Little John. ' But he drew his two-handed sword and laid about him in such wise thattwelve of the Sheriff's men lay dead before him. Then Robin foundhimself face to face with the Sheriff, and gave him a fierce blow; buthis sword broke on the Sheriff's head, and he had shot away all hisarrows. So the men closed round him, and bound his arms. Ill news travels fast, and not many hours had passed before theforesters heard that their master was in prison. They wept and moanedand wrung their hands, and seemed to have gone suddenly mad, tillLittle John bade them pluck up their hearts and help him to deal withthe monk. The next morning he hid himself, and waited with a comrade, Much byname, till he saw the monk riding along the road, with a page behindhim, carrying letters from the Sheriff to the King telling of Robin'scapture. 'Whence come you?' asked Little John, going up to the monk, 'and canyou give us tidings of a false outlaw named Robin Hood, who was takenprisoner yesterday? He robbed both me and my fellow of twenty marks, and glad should we be to hear of his undoing. ' 'He robbed me, too, ' said the monk, 'of a hundred pounds and more, butI have laid hands on him, and for that you may thank me. ' 'I thank you so much that, with your leave, I and my friend will bearyou company, ' answered Little John; 'for in this forest are many wildmen who own Robin Hood for leader, and you ride along this road at theperil of your life. ' They went on together, talking the while, when suddenly Little Johnseized the horse by the head and pulled down the monk by his hood. 'He was my master, ' said Little John, 'That you have brought to bale, 'Never shall you come at the King 'For to tell him that tale. ' At these words the monk uttered loud cries, but Little John took noheed of him, and smote off his head, as Much had already smitten offthat of the page, lest he should carry the news of what had happenedback to the Sheriff. After this they buried the bodies, and, takingthe letters, carried them themselves to the King. When they arrived at the Palace, in the presence of the King, LittleJohn fell on his knees and held the letter out. 'God save you, myliege lord, ' he said; and the King unfolded the letters and read them. 'There never was yeoman in Merry England I longed so sore to see, ' hesaid. 'But where is the monk that should have brought these letters?' 'He died by the way, ' answered Little John; and the King asked no morequestions. Twenty pounds each he ordered his treasurer to give to Much and toLittle John, and made them yeomen of the crown. After which he handedhis own seal to Little John and ordered him to bear it to the Sheriff, and bid him without delay bring Robin Hood unhurt into his presence. Little John did as the King bade him, and the Sheriff, at sight of theseal, gave him and Much welcome, and set a feast before them, at whichJohn led him to drink heavily. Soon he fell asleep, and then the twooutlaws stole softly to the prison. Here John ran the porter throughthe body for trying to stop his entrance, and, taking the keys, huntedthrough the cells until he had found Robin. Thrusting a sword into hishand Little John whispered to his master to follow him, and they creptalong till they reached the lowest part of the city wall, from whichthey jumped and were safe and free. 'Now, farewell, ' said Little John, 'I have done you a good turn foran ill. ' 'Not so, ' answered Robin Hood, 'I make you master of my menand me, ' but Little John would hear nothing of it. 'I only wish to beyour comrade, and thus it shall be, ' he replied. * * * * * 'Little John has beguiled us both, ' said the King, when he heard ofthe adventure. HOW THE KING VISITED ROBIN HOOD Now the King had no mind that Robin Hood should do as he willed, andcalled his Knights to follow him to Nottingham, where they would layplans how best to take captive the felon. Here they heard sad tales ofRobin's misdoings, and how of the many herds of wild deer that hadbeen wont to roam the forest in some places scarce one remained. Thiswas the work of Robin Hood and his merry men, on whom the King sworevengeance with a great oath. 'I would I had this Robin Hood in my hands, ' cried he, 'and an endshould soon be put to his doings. ' So spake the King; but an oldKnight, full of days and wisdom, answered him and warned him that thetask of taking Robin Hood would be a sore one, and best let alone. TheKing, who had seen the vanity of his hot words the moment that he haduttered them, listened to the old man, and resolved to bide his time, if perchance some day Robin should fall into his power. All this time and for six weeks later that he dwelt in Nottingham theKing could hear nothing of Robin, who seemed to have vanished into theearth with his merry men, though one by one the deer were vanishingtoo! At last one day a forester came to the King, and told him that if hewould see Robin he must come with him and take five of his bestKnights. The King eagerly sprang up to do his bidding, and the six menclad in monks' clothes mounted their palfreys and rode down to theAbbey, the King wearing an Abbot's broad hat over his crown andsinging as he passed through the greenwood. [Illustration: There is Pith in your arm said ROBIN HOOD] Suddenly at the turn of a path Robin and his archers appeared beforethem. 'By your leave, Sir Abbot, ' said Robin, seizing the King's bridle, 'you will stay a while with us. Know that we are yeomen, who live uponthe King's deer, and other food have we none. Now you have abbeys andchurches, and gold in plenty; therefore give us some of it, in thename of holy charity. ' 'I have no more than forty pounds with me, ' answered the King, 'butsorry I am it is not a hundred, for you should have had it all. ' So Robin took the forty pounds, and gave half to his men, and thentold the King he might go on his way. 'I thank you, ' said the King, 'but I would have you know that our liege lord has bid me bear you hisseal, and pray you to come to Nottingham. ' At this message Robin bent his knee. 'I love no man in all the world So well as I do my King'; he cried, 'and Sir Abbot, for thy tidings, which fill my heart withjoy, to-day thou shalt dine with me, for love of my King. ' Then he ledthe King into an open place, and Robin took a horn and blew it loud, and at its blast seven score of young men came speedily to do hiswill. 'They are quicker to do his bidding than my men are to do mine, ' saidthe King to himself. * * * * * Speedily the foresters set out the dinner, venison, and white bread, and the good red wine, and Robin and Little John served the King. 'Make good cheer, ' said Robin, 'Abbot, for charity, and then you shallsee what sort of life we lead, that so you may tell our King. ' When he had finished eating the archers took their bows, and hungrose-garlands up with a string, and every man was to shoot throughthe garland. If he failed, he should have a buffet on the head fromRobin. Good bowmen as they were, few managed to stand the test. Little Johnand Will Scarlett, and Much, all shot wide of the mark, and at lengthno one was left in but Robin himself and Gilbert of the White Hand. Then Robin fired his last bolt, and it fell three fingers from thegarland. 'Master, ' said Gilbert, 'you have lost, stand forth and takeyour punishment. ' 'I will take it, ' answered Robin, 'but, Sir Abbot, I pray you that Imay suffer it at your hands. ' The King hesitated. 'It did not become him, ' he said, 'to smite such astout yeoman, ' but Robin bade him smite on; so he turned up hissleeve, and gave Robin such a buffet on the head that he rolled uponthe ground. 'There is pith in your arm, ' said Robin. 'Come, shoot a main with me. 'And the King took up a bow, and in so doing his hat fell back andRobin saw his face. 'My lord the King of England, now I know you well, ' cried he, and hefell on his knees and all the outlaws with him. 'Mercy I ask, my lordthe King, for my men and me. ' 'Mercy I grant, ' then said the King, 'and therefore I came hither, tobid you and your men leave the greenwood and dwell in my Court withme. ' 'So shall it be, ' answered Robin, 'I and my men will come to yourCourt, and see how your service liketh us. ' ROBIN AT COURT 'Have you any green cloth, ' asked the King, 'that you could sell tome?' and Robin brought out thirty yards and more, and clad the Kingand his men in coats of Lincoln green. 'Now we will all ride toNottingham, ' said he, and they went merrily, shooting by the way. The people of Nottingham saw them coming, and trembled as they watchedthe dark mass of Lincoln green drawing near over the fields. 'I fearlest our King be slain, ' whispered one to another, 'and if Robin Hoodgets into the town there is not one of us whose life is safe'; andevery man, woman, and child made ready to fly. The King laughed out when he saw their fright, and called them back. Right glad were they to hear his voice, and they feasted and mademerry. A few days later the King returned to London, and Robin dweltin his Court for twelve months. By that time he had spent a hundredpounds, for he gave largely to the Knights and Squires he met, andgreat renown he had for his open-handedness. But his men, who had been born under the shadow of the forest, couldnot live amid streets and houses. One by one they slipped away, tillonly Little John and Will Scarlett were left. Then Robin himself grewhome-sick, and at the sight of some young men shooting thought uponthe time when he was accounted the best archer in all England, andwent straightway to the King and begged for leave to go on apilgrimage to Bernisdale. 'I may not say you nay, ' answered the King, 'seven nights you may begone and no more. ' And Robin thanked him, and that evening set out forthe greenwood. It was early morning when he reached it at last, and listenedthirstily to the notes of singing birds, great and small. 'It seems long since I was here, ' he said to himself; 'it would giveme great joy if I could bring down a deer once more'; and he shot agreat hart, and blew his horn, and all the outlaws of the forest cameflocking round him. 'Welcome, ' they said, 'our dear master, back tothe greenwood tree, ' and they threw off their caps and fell on theirknees before him in delight at his return. THE DEATH OF ROBIN HOOD For two and twenty years Robin Hood dwelt in Sherwood Forest after hehad run away from Court, and naught that the King could say wouldtempt him back again. At the end of that time he fell ill; he neitherate nor drank, and had no care for the things he loved. 'I must go tomerry Kirkley, ' said he, 'and have my blood let. ' But Will Scarlett, who heard his words, spoke roundly to him. 'Not by_my_ leave, nor without a hundred bowmen at your back. For thereabides an evil man, who is sure to quarrel with you, and you will needus badly. ' 'If you are afraid, Will Scarlett, you may stay at home, for me, ' saidRobin, 'and in truth no man will I take with me, save Little Johnonly, to carry my bow. ' 'Bear your bow yourself, master, and I will bear mine, and we willshoot for a penny as we ride. ' 'Very well, let it be so, ' said Robin, and they went on merrily enoughtill they came to some women weeping sorely near a stream. 'What is the matter, good wives?' said Robin Hood. 'We weep for Robin Hood and his dear body, which to-day must letblood, ' was their answer. 'Pray why do you weep for me?' asked Robin; 'the Prioress is thedaughter of my aunt, and my cousin, and well I know she would not dome harm for all the world. ' And he passed on, with Little John at hisside. Soon they reached the Priory, where they were let in by the Prioressherself, who bade them welcome heartily, and not the less becauseRobin handed her twenty pounds in gold as payment for his stay, andtold her if he cost her more she was to let him know of it. Then shebegan to bleed him, and for long Robin said nothing, giving her creditfor kindness and for knowing her art, but at length so much blood camefrom him that he suspected treason. He tried to open the door, for shehad left him alone in the room, but it was locked fast, and while theblood was still flowing he could not escape from the casement. So helay down for many hours, and none came near him, and at length theblood stopped. Slowly Robin uprose and staggered to thelattice-window, and blew thrice on his horn; but the blast was so low, and so little like what Robin was wont to give, that Little John, whowas watching for some sound, felt that his master must be nigh todeath. At this thought he started to his feet, and ran swiftly to the Priory. He broke the locks of all the doors that stood between him and RobinHood, and soon entered the chamber where his master lay, white, withnigh all his blood gone from him. 'I crave a boon of you, dear master, ' cried Little John. 'And what is that boon, ' said Robin Hood, 'which Little John begs ofme?' And Little John answered, 'It is to burn fair Kirkley Hall, andall the nunnery. ' But Robin Hood, in spite of the wrong that had been done him, wouldnot listen to Little John's cry for revenge. 'I never hurt a woman inall my life, ' he said, 'nor a man that was in her company. But now mytime is done, that know I well; so give me my bow and a broad arrow, and wheresoever it falls there shall my grave be digged. Lay a greensod under my head and another at my feet, and put beside me my bow, which ever made sweetest music to my ears, and see that green andgravel make my grave. And, Little John, take care that I have lengthenough and breadth enough to lie in. ' So he loosened his last arrowfrom the string and then died, and where the arrow fell Robin wasburied. [Illustration: ROBIN HOOD SHOOTS HIS LAST ARROW] THE STORY OF GRETTIR THE STRONG _THE STORY OF GRETTIR THE STRONG_ About nine hundred years ago, more or less, there lived in Iceland, ata homestead called Biarg, two old folks named Asmund the Greyhairedand his wife Asdis. At the time our story begins they had two sons, Atli the eldest, and Grettir, besides daughters; sixteen years lateranother son was born to them, named Illugi. Atli was a generalfavourite, in disposition good-natured and yielding, in this the veryopposite of Grettir, who held to his own way, and was, besides, silent, reserved, and rough in manner. But he is described as fair tolook on, broad-faced, short-faced, red-haired and much freckled, notof quick growth in his childhood. There was little love lost betweenhim and his father, but his mother loved the boy right well. Somatters sped till Grettir was ten years old, when, one day, his fathertold him to go and watch the geese on the farm, fifty of them, besidesmany goslings. The boy went, but with an ill grace, and shortlyafterwards the geese were found all dead or dying, with many of theirnecks wrung, at which Asmund was mightily vexed. Again, one evening, being cold, he asked the boy to warm him by rubbing his back, butGrettir, taking up a wool-carder's comb, dropped it down his father'sback. The old man was furiously angry, and would have beaten Grettir, had he not run away, while Asdis, though vexed, tried her best to makepeace between them. Next, Grettir was sent to tend the horses, amongst which was afavourite mare called Keingala, who always preferred the coldest andwindiest spots to graze in; the boy was ill-clad and half-starved withcold, so, by way of paying Keingala out for her uncomfortable choiceof pasture, he drew a sharp knife right across her shoulder and alongboth sides of her back. When Asmund next saw the mare and stroked herback, the hide came off beneath his hand. He taxed Grettir with thedeed, but the boy sneered mockingly and said nothing. Keingala had tobe killed. Such and many other scurvy tricks did Grettir play in hischildhood, but meanwhile he grew in body and strength, though none asyet knew him to be strong beyond his years. This first came to be known shortly afterwards at Midfirth Water, where some ball games were being held on the ice. Grettir was nowfourteen; and was matched to play with one Audun, several years olderthan himself. Audun struck the ball over Grettir's head, so that hecould not catch it, and it bounded far away along the ice; Grettirbrought it back, and in a rage threw it at Audun's forehead; Audunstruck at him with his bat, but Grettir closed with him and wrestled, for a long time holding his own; but Audun was a man of full strength, and at last prevailed. Grettir's next performance brought him intomore trouble. Asmund had a bosom friend named Thorkel Krafla, who paidhim a visit at Biarg on his way to the Thing, or Icelandic parliament, with a retinue of sixty followers, for Thorkel was a great chief, anda man of substance. Each traveller had to carry his own provisions forthe journey, including Grettir, who joined Thorkel's company. Grettir's saddle turned over, however, and his meal bag was lost, norcould he find it, notwithstanding a long search. Just then he saw aman who was in like plight with himself, having also lost his mealsack: his name was Skeggi, one of Thorkel's followers. All of a suddenSkeggi darted off, and Grettir saw him stoop and pick up a mealsack, which Skeggi claimed as his own. Grettir was not satisfied, and theyfought for it; Skeggi cut at Grettir with his axe, but he wrenched itout of his hand, and clove his head in twain. Thorkel then allowedGrettir his choice: whether to go on to the Thing, or return home. Hechose the first alternative; but a lawsuit was set on foot by theheirs of the dead man. Thorkel paid the necessary fines, but Grettirwas outlawed, banished from the country, and had to stay abroad threeyears. Asmund entrusted his son to the keeping of a man called Haflidi, thecaptain of a ship that was sailing for Norway; father and son partedwith but little sorrow between them, but Asdis accompanied the boypart of the way, and gave him a sword which had been owned by Jokul, her grandfather; for which Grettir thanked her well, saying he deemedit better than things of more worth, so he came to the ship. With thesailors he was no more popular than he had been elsewhere, for hewould work only by fits and starts, as he pleased; besides, he had agift of making very biting rhymes, which he indulged in at the expenseof all on board. But when he did condescend to work he was a match forany four, or, as some say, for any eight men by reason of hisstrength. After they had sailed some way east over the sea, and hadmuch thick weather, one night they ran aground on a rock near anisland which turned out to be Haramsey, off Norway. The lord of thatisland was called Thorfinn, son of Karr the Old. When day dawned hesent down a boat to rescue the shipwrecked sailors, who were saved, with their merchandise, but their vessel broke up. Grettir remainedwith Thorfinn some time; and was fond of rambling about the island, going from house to house; and he made friends with one Audun, not, ofcourse, the one who has already been mentioned. One night the two noticed a great blaze on a ness or headland, andGrettir asked the reason of it, adding, that in his country such afire would only burn above hidden treasure. Audun told him he hadbetter not inquire too closely into the matter, which, however, as onemight expect, only whetted his curiosity the more. He was toldaccordingly that on that headland Karr the Old was buried; that atfirst father and son had but one farm on the island, but since Karrdied he had so haunted the place that all the farmers who owned landwere driven away. Thorfinn, therefore, now held the whole island, andto such good purpose, that whosoever enjoyed his protection was notworried by the ghost. Grettir determined to investigate, and providinghimself with spades and tools, set off with Audun to dig into the'barrow, ' as these mounds of earth are called, which northern racesand others used to raise over their dead. Leaving Audun to guard therope by which he descended, Grettir found the interior of the cavernvery dark, and a smell therein none of the sweetest. First he sawhorse-bones, then he stumbled against the arm of a high chair whereinwas a man sitting; great treasures of gold and silver lay heapedtogether, and under the man's feet a small chest full of silver. Allthis Grettir carried towards the rope, but while doing so he wassuddenly seized in a strong grip; whereupon he let go the treasure andrushed at the Thing which lived in the barrow; and now they set on oneanother unsparingly enough. There was a battle, first one, then theother gaining a slight advantage, but at last the barrow-wight fellover on his back with a huge din; whereupon Grettir drew his sword, 'Jokul's gift, ' and cut off Karr's head, laying it beside the thigh, for, in this way only, men said, could a ghost be laid. Grettir tookthe treasure and brought it to Thorfinn, who was not ill-pleased thathis father's tomb had been rifled, for he held that wealth hidden inthe ground was wealth wrongly placed, in which we shall probably agreewith him. [Illustration: GRETTIR FEELS KARR'S GRIP. ] After the events just described, Thorfinn went away with thirty of hismen to one of his farms on the mainland, in order to keep theYule-tide feast (Christmas). His wife and daughter, the latter of whomwas ill in bed, remained at home. Now Thorfinn, some time previously, had taken a leading part in passing a law, the object of which wasthat all berserkers should be outlawed. These berserkers were rovingbands of pirates, brave fighters, but respecting no man's property; onthe contrary, their chief object was to lay violent hands on women andgoods to which they had no title. It is easily to be understood thatThorfinn, in consequence of his action, had incurred their bitterestenmity. One day Grettir observed a ship approaching, rowed by twelvemen; it landed near Thorfinn's boat-stand, wherein was his boat whichwas never launched by less than thirty men; nevertheless these twelvepushed it down to the water's edge, laid their own boat upon it, andbore it into the boat-stand. Grettir's suspicions being aroused, he went down, and after givingthem a hearty welcome, asked who they were. The leader told him he wasknown as Thorir Paunch; that his brother was Ogmund, and the restfellows of theirs. Grettir told them they could not have come at abetter time, if, as he thought, they had some grudge against Thorfinn, for he was away from home, and would not be back till Yule was past, but his wife and daughter were in the house. 'Now am I well enoughminded to take revenge on Thorfinn, ' said Thorir, 'and this man isready enough of tidings, and no need have we to drag the words out ofhim. ' So they all went up to the farm, but the women were distractedwith fear, thinking that Grettir had played false. He, however, induced the berserkers to lay aside their arms, and when evening wascome, brought them beer in abundance, and entertained them with talesand merry jests. After a while he proposed to lead them to Thorfinn'streasure house: nothing loth they followed readily; when they were allinside he managed to slip out and lock them in. He then ran back forweapons: a broad-headed barbed spear, his sword and helmet. Now theberserkers knew they had been entrapped; breaking down the panellingof a wall they rushed out into the passage, where in the nick of timearrived Grettir, who thrust Thorir through with his spear; Ogmund theEvil was pressing close behind, so that the same thrust which piercedthe one transfixed the other also. The remainder defended themselveswith logs and whatever lay ready to hand, or tried to escape; butGrettir slew all of them save two, who for the moment escaped, butwere found next day under a rock, dead from cold and wounds. Shortly afterwards Thorfinn returned, and when he was told of thewondrous deeds of Grettir, who had thus saved the honour of his house, he bade him come to him whenever he needed aid; and the two were nowclose friends; moreover, Grettir's fame began to spread abroad, and hebecame renowned all over Norway. Leaving his friend Thorfinn, he tookpassage in a ship belonging to one Thorkel, who lived in Heligoland. He welcomed Grettir heartily to his house, but with a man calledBiorn, who lived there with him, the Icelander could by no meansagree, nor indeed did others find it easy, for Biorn's temper washasty and difficult. It happened that a savage bear wrought havoc at that time, being sogrim that it spared neither man nor beast, so one night Biorn set outto slay it. The bear was in its cave, in the track leading to whichBiorn lay down, with his shield over him, to wait for the beast tostir abroad as its manner was. But the beast suspected the presence ofthe man, and was slow to move; delayed so long indeed that Biorn fellasleep. Now the bear became brisk enough, sallied forth, hooked itsclaws in Biorn's shield, and threw it over the cliff. Biorn wokesuddenly and ran, just escaping its clutch; but the whole proceedingshad been watched, and he had to endure many taunts and jeers. Grettirwent afterwards and killed the beast, though not without a terriblestruggle, in which they both fell over the rocks, but the bear wasunderneath, and Grettir was able to stab it to the heart. More thanever then on account of this did ill-will against Grettir rankle inBiorn's breast. He sailed west to England, as master of Thorkel'sship; when he returned he met Grettir at a place calledDrontheim-firth. The two took up their old quarrel again, fought onthe strand, and Biorn was killed. At that time Earl Svein was ruling over Norway as regent, the rightfulking being but a boy. At the court in the Earl's service was Biorn'sbrother, Hiarandi, who was exceedingly wroth when he heard of Biorn'sdeath, and begged the Earl's assistance in the matter. Svein thereforesent for Thorfinn and Grettir, but Hiarandi would not agree to anyterms proposed, and lay in wait to take Grettir's life. With fiveothers he sprang out from a certain court gate, dealt a blow at himwith an axe, and wounded him; but Grettir and a companion turned onthem and slew them all save one, who escaped and told the Earl. Thereremained yet another brother of Biorn and Hiarandi to take up thefeud, but he fared no better, and was also slain. Earl Svein was now'wondrous wroth' at this tale, for said he, 'Grettir has now slainthree brothers, one at the heels of the other, and I will not thusbring wrongs into the land so as to take compensation for suchunmeasured misdeeds'; so he would not listen to any proposals byThorfinn to pay blood-money. However, many more added their words toThorfinn's, and prayed the Earl to spare Grettir's life, for, afterall, he had acted in self-defence, and if his life were to be forfeit, there would be slayings throughout the whole land. These arguments atlength prevailed, Grettir was allowed to go in peace, and went back toIceland, the term of his outlawry being expired. Being now grown to man's estate, and having waxed greatly in bodilystrength, he roamed about the country to see if there were any withwhom he might match himself, and took it very ill that he found none. About this time, strange rumours were flying about to the effect thata farm belonging to one Thorhall was haunted. Thorhall was an honestman and very rich in cattle and livestock, but could hardly get ashepherd to stay in his service; whereat, being sore perplexed, hewent for advice to Skapti the Lawman. Skapti promised to get him ashepherd called Glam, a Swede, for which Thorhall thanked him. On hisreturn he missed two dun cows, went to look for them, and on the waymet a man carrying faggots, who said his name was Glam. He was greatof stature, uncouth in appearance, his eyes grey and glaring, and hishair wolf-grey. Thorhall told him Skapti had recommended him, addingthat the place was haunted, but Glam made light of this: 'Such bugswill not scare me, ' quoth he. There was a church at Thorhall-stead, but Glam loathed church-song, being godless, foul-tempered and surly, and no man could abide him, Thorhall's wife least of all. So time woreon till Christmas-eve, when Glam called for his meat, but was toldthat no Christian man would eat meat on that day. He insisted; and thehousewife gave it, though prophesying evil would come of it. Glam tookthe food and went out growling and grumbling. He was heard in the early morning on the hills, but not as the daywore on; then a snowstorm came, and Glam returned not that night noryet the day following, so search parties were sent out, who found thesheep scattered wide about in fens, beaten down by the storm, orstrayed up into the mountains. Then they came to a great beaten placehigh up in a valley, where it seemed as though there had beenwrestling, stones and earth torn up, and signs of a severe struggle;looking closer, they found Glam dead, his body blue and swollen to thesize of an ox. They tried to bring the body down to the church, butcould only move it a very little way; they returned, therefore, andtold how they had tracked steps as great as if a cask bottom had beenstamped down, leading from the beaten place up to beneath sheer rockshigh up the valley, and along the track great stains of blood. Fromthis men thought that the evil wight which had killed Glam had gotsuch wounds as had sufficed for him, but none ever could say forcertain. The second day after Christmas men were sent again to bring Glam'sbody to the church, but though horses were put to drag it, they couldnot move the corpse except down hill, so Glam was buried where he lay. Now within a little time men became aware that Glam lay not quiet; hewalked well-nigh night and day, and took to riding the house roofs atnight, so much so that he nearly broke them in. The folk wereexceedingly afraid thereat; many fainted or went mad, while othersincontinently fled there and then. Another shepherd, big and strong, came to take Glam's place; he was nowise dismayed by the hauntings, but deemed it good sport rather than not when Glam rode thehouse-roofs. But when another Christmas came the shepherd was missed;search was made, and he was found on the hill-side by Glam's cairn, his neck broken, and every bone in his body smashed. Then Glam waxedmore mighty than ever; the cattle bellowed and roared, and gored eachother; the byre cracked, and a cattle-man who had been long inThorhall's service was found dead, his head in one stall and feet inanother. None could go up the dale with horse or hound, because it wasstraightway slain, and it was no easy task to get servants to remainat the steading. Things had come to this pass when Grettir rode over to Thorhall-stead, where the owner gave him good welcome, though warning him that fewcared to stay long under his roof. Grettir's horse was locked up inthe stable, and the first night nothing happened; but on the secondthe stable was broken into, the horse dragged out to the door, andevery bone of him broken. Next night Grettir sat up to watch; and whena third of the night was past, he heard a terrible din as of oneriding the roof, and driving his heels against the thatch so thatevery rafter cracked again. He went to the door, and saw Glam, whosehead, as it appeared to him, was monstrously big. Glam came slowly inand took hold of a bundle lying on the seat, but Grettir planted hisfoot against a beam, seized the bundle also, and pulled against Glamwith such strength that the wrapper was rent between them. Glamwondered who might this be that pulled with such strength against him, when Grettir rushed in, seized him round the waist, and tried to forcehim down backwards; but he shrank all aback by reason of Glam'sstrength, which, indeed, seemed to be almost greater than his own. Awondrous hard wrestling bout was that; but at last Grettir, gatheringup his strength for a sudden effort, drove against Glam's breast, atthe same moment pushing with both feet against the half-sunken stonethat stood in the threshold of the door. For this Glam was not ready, therefore he reeled backwards and spun against the door, so that hisshoulders caught against the upper part of it; the roof burst--bothrafters and frozen thatch--and he fell open-armed backwards out of thehouse with Grettir over him. It was bright moonlight without, with drift scudding over the moon; atthat instant the moon's face cleared, and Glam glared up against her. By that sight only Grettir confessed himself dismayed beyond all thathe had ever seen; nor, for weariness and fear together, could he drawhis sword to strike off Glam's head withal. But Glam was crafty beyondother ghosts, so that now he spoke: 'Exceeding eager hast thou been tomeet me, Grettir, but it will be deemed no wonder if this meeting workthee harm. This must I tell thee, that thou now hast but half thestrength and manhood which was thy lot if thou hadst not met me; I maynot take from thee the strength that was thine before, but this may Irule--that thou shalt never be mightier than thou now art. Hithertothou hast earned fame by thy deeds, but henceforth will wrongs andmanslayings fall on thee, and the most part of thy doings will turn tothy woe and ill-hap, an outlaw shalt thou be made, and ever shall itbe thy lot to dwell abroad. Therefore this fate I lay upon thee, everin those days to see these eyes of mine with thine eyes, and thou wiltfind it hard to be alone, and that shall drag thee unto death. 'Grettir's wits came back to him, and therewith he drew his shortsword, cut off Glam's head, and laid it at his thigh. Glam's body wasburnt, the ashes put into a beast's skin and buried. Thorhall, overjoyed at the deliverance, treated Grettir handsomely, giving him agood horse and decent clothes, for his own had been torn to pieces inthe struggle. Grettir's fame spread far abroad for this deed, and nonewas deemed his equal for boldness and prowess. Yet Glam's curse beganalready to work, for Grettir dared not go out after nightfall, forthen he seemed to see all kinds of horrors. It became a proverb in theland that Glam gives Glam-sight to those who see things otherwise thanas they are, which we now express by the word 'glamour. ' Now Grettir had a strong wish to go to Norway, for Earl Svein had fledthe country after being beaten in a battle, and Olaf the Saint heldsole rule as king. There was also a man named Thorir of Garth who hadbeen in Norway, and was a friend of the king; this man was anxious tosend out his sons to become the king's men. The sons accordinglysailed, and came to a haven at Stead, where they remained some days, during stormy weather. Grettir also had sailed after them, and thecrew bore down on Stead, being hard put to it by reason of foulweather, snow and frost; and they were all worn, weary and wet. Tosave expense they did not put into the harbour, but lay to beside adyke, where, though perished with cold, they could not light a fire. As the night wore on they saw that a great fire was burning on theopposite side of the sound up which they had sailed, and fell totalking and wondering whether by possibility any man might fetch thatfire. Grettir said little, but made ready for swimming; he had on buta cape and sail-cloth breeches. He girt up the cape and tied a ropestrongly round his middle, and had with him a cask; then he leapedoverboard and swam across. There he saw a house, and heard muchtalking and noise, so he turned towards it, and found it to be a houseof refuge for coasting sailors; twelve men were inside sitting round agreat fire on the floor, drinking, and these were the sons of Thorir. When Grettir burst in he knew not who was there, he himself seemedhuge of bulk, for his cape was frozen all over into ice; therefore themen took him to be some evil troll, and smote at him with anythingthat lay to hand; but Grettir put all blows aside, snatched up somefirebrands, and swam therewith back to the ship. Grettir's comradeswere mightily pleased, and bepraised him and his journey and hisprowess. [Illustration: GRETTIR OVERTHROWS THORIR REDBEARD] Next morning they crossed the sound, but found no house, only a greatheap of ashes, and therein many bones of men. They asked if Grettirhad done this misdeed; but he said it had happened even as he hadexpected. The men said wherever they came that Grettir had burnt thosepeople; and the news soon spread that the victims were the sons ofThorir of Garth. Grettir therefore now grew into such bad repute thathe was driven from the ship, and scarcely anyone would say a good wordfor him. As matters were so hopeless he determined to explain all tothe king, and offer to free himself from the slander by handling hotiron without being burned. His ill-luck still pursued him, for whenall was ready in the church where the ceremony was about to takeplace, a wild-looking lad, or, as some said, an unclean spirit, started up from no one knew where, and spoke such impertinent words toGrettir that he felled him with a blow of his fist. After this theking would not allow the ceremony to go on: 'Thou art far tooluckless a man to abide with us, and if ever man has been cursed, ofall men must thou have been, ' said he; and advised him to go back toIceland in the summer. Meanwhile Asmund the Greyhaired died, and wasburied at Biarg, and Atli succeeded to his goods, but was soonafterwards basely murdered by a neighbouring chief who bore himill-will for his many friendships, and grudged him his possessions. Thorir of Garth brought a suit at the Thing to have Grettir outlawedfor the burning of his sons; but Skapti the Lawman thought it scarcelyfair to condemn a man unheard, and spoke these wise words: 'A tale ishalf told if one man tells it, for most folk are readiest to bringtheir stories to the worser side when there are two ways of tellingthem. ' Thorir, however, was a man of might, and had powerful friends;these between them pushed on the suit, and with a high hand ratherthan according to law obtained their decree. Thus was Grettir outlawedfor a deed of which he was innocent. These three pieces of bad newsgreeted him all at once on his return to Iceland: his father's death, his brother's murder, and his own outlawry. One of the first things he did was to avenge his brother's murder, butthere was a price on his head, and he wandered about from place toplace in the wilderness. On one occasion, as he lay asleep, some menof Icefirth came upon him, and though they were ten in number they hadmuch ado to take him; but at last they bound him, and put up agallows, for they intended to hang him. Fortunately for Grettir, atthat moment there rode along the wife of the ruling chief of thatdistrict, who interposed and set him free, on his promise not to stirup strife in that neighbourhood. His next adventure was at a placecalled Ernewaterheath where he had built himself a hut, and lived byfishing in the river. There were other outlaws, who, on hearing thatGrettir was in the neighbourhood, made a bargain with one Grim that heshould slay him. Grim begged Grettir to take him into his hut, whichhe agreed to do, as he was so frightened when alone in the dark;nevertheless, having his suspicions of the man, he kept his shortsword always within reach. One day Grim came back from fishing, andthought Grettir was asleep, for he made no movement when Grim suddenlystamped his foot; thinking he now had his chance, he stole on tip-toeto the bedside, took Grettir's short sword and unsheathed it. But atthe very moment when Grim had it raised aloft to stab Grettir, thesupposed sleeping man sprang up, knocked Grim down, wrenched the swordout of his hand and killed him. Next, Grettir's enemy Thorir of Garthheard of his whereabouts, and prevailed upon one Thorir Redbeard toattempt to slay him. So Redbeard laid his plans, with the object, asit is quaintly phrased, of 'winning' Grettir. He, however, declined tobe 'won, ' for Redbeard fared no better than Grim. He tried to slay theoutlaw while he was swimming back from his nets, but Grettir sank likea stone and swam along the bottom till he reached a place where hecould land unseen by Redbeard. He then came on him from behind, whileRedbeard was still looking for his appearance out of the water; heavedhim over his head, and caused him to fall so heavily that his weaponfell out of his hand. Grettir seized it and smote off his head. Thorir of Garth was anything but satisfied with the result of hisendeavour to have Grettir killed, and gathered together a force ofnearly eighty men to take him; but this time Grettir was forewarned bya friend, and took up a position in a very narrow pass. When Thorir'smen came up and attacked him he slew them one by one till he hadkilled eighteen and wounded many more, so that Thorir said, 'Lo, nowwe have to do with trolls and not men, ' and bade the rest retire. Shortly afterwards he collected some twenty men and rode off again tosearch for Grettir. This time he was within an ace of coming upon theoutlaw unawares; but Grettir and a friend had just time to concealthemselves when Thorir rode by. After the party had passed, an ideaoccurred to Grettir. 'They will not deem their journey good if we benot found, ' he said; so, though much against the advice of his friend, he disguised himself in a slouch hat and other clothes, took a staffand intercepted Thorir's band at a point where he knew they must pass. They asked him whether he had seen any men riding over the heath. 'Yes, ' he said, 'the men you seek I have seen, and you have missedthem only by a very little; they are there on the south side of thesebogs to the left. ' On hearing this, off galloped Thorir and his men, but the bogs were a sort of quagmire, wherein the horses stuck fast;and remained wallowing and struggling for the greater part of the day, while the riders 'gave to the devil withal the wandering churl who hadso befooled them. ' Grettir now deemed it advisable to go about the country in disguise, and, under the name of Guest, came to a place called Sandheaps, muchhaunted by trolls. Two winters before he arrived the husband of thegood-wife had mysteriously disappeared during her absence, none knewwhither; her name was Steinvor. A loud crashing had been heard in thenight about the man's bed, but the folk were too frightened to riseand find out the cause; in the morning Steinvor came back, but herhusband was gone. Again, the next year, while she was away at church, a house-servant remained behind; but he too vanished, and bloodstainswere found about the outer door. Grettir was told of this when he cameto Sandheaps on Christmas-eve, staying there under the name of Guest. Steinvor, as usual, went away to worship, and remained absent thatnight, leaving Grettir at home. He sat up to watch, and about midnighthe heard a great noise outside, shortly after which there came intothe hall a huge troll-wife, with a trough in one hand and a monstrouschopper in the other. Seeing Grettir she rushed at him, but he closedwith her, and there was a terrible wrestling match. She was thestronger, and dragged him from the house, breaking down all thefittings of the door; down she dragged him to the river which flowedthrough the farm, and Grettir, exhausted with the struggle, waswell-nigh at the limit of his endurance. Making one last great effort, he managed to draw his short sword and strike off the hag's arm at theshoulder; then was he free, and she fell into the gulf and was carrieddown the rapids. This, at least, was Grettir's story; but the men ofthe neighbourhood say that day dawned on them while they were stillwrestling, and that therefore the troll burst; for this trolls do, according to Norse tradition, if they happen to be caught above groundby the rising sun. Steinvor came back with the priest, who asked Grettir where he thoughtthe two men were who had disappeared. He replied they were, hethought, in the gulf; but if the priest would help him he would findout. The priest agreed. Accordingly, taking a rope with them, theyfollowed the stream down to a waterfall where they saw a cave up underthe cliff--a sheer rock the cliff was, nearly fifty fathoms down tothe water. The priest's heart misgave him, but Grettir determined tomake the attempt; so, driving a peg into the ground, he made the ropefast to it and bade the priest watch it; then he tied a stone to theend and let it sink into the water. When all was ready, he took hisshort sword and leapt into the water. Disappearing from the priest'sview, he dived under the waterfall--and hard work it was, for thewhirlpool was strong; but he reached a projecting rock on which herested awhile. A great cave was under the waterfall, and the riverfell over it from the sheer rocks. Grettir climbed into the cave, where he found a great fire flaming, and a giant sitting beside it, huge and horrible to look upon. He smote at the new-comer with abroadsword, but Grettir avoided the blow, and returned such a mightystroke with his own sword that the giant fell dead at once. The prieston the bank, seeing blood washed down by the swirling waters, andthinking Grettir was killed, fled in alarm and spread the report ofhis death. Grettir meanwhile stayed in the cave till far on into thenight; he found there the bones of two men, which he put in a bag;swimming with them to the rope, he shook it, but as the priest hadgone he had to draw himself up by strength of hands. He took the bonesto the church, where he left them, returning himself to Sandheaps. When the priest saw Grettir, the latter taxed him with breach of faithin quitting the rope, which charge the priest must needs admit;however, no great harm had resulted, the bones were buried, and thedistrict was freed from hauntings. Grettir received much credit, in sofar as he had cleansed the land from these evil wights who had wroughtthe loss of the men there in the dale. Our hero remained in hiding at Sandheaps, but Thorir of Garth heard ofhim and sent men to take him. Grettir accordingly left the place andwent to Maddervales, to Gudmund the Rich, of whom he begged shelter. Gudmund, however, dared not harbour him, but advised him to seekshelter in an isle called Drangey in Skagafirth. The place, he said, was excellent for defence, for without ladders no one could land. Grettir agreed to go, and went home to Biarg to bid his motherfarewell. His brother, Illugi, was now fifteen years old, a handsomeboy, and he overheard Grettir's conversation with his mother about hisproposed departure to Drangey. 'I will go with thee, brother, ' saidhe, 'though I know not that I shall be of any help to thee, unlessthat I shall be ever true to thee, nor run from thee whiles thoustandest up. ' Asdis bade them farewell, warning Grettir againstsorcery; yet well she knew that she would never see either of her sonsagain. They left Biarg, going north towards Drangey; and on the waymet with a big ill-clad loon called Thorbiorn Noise, a man too lazy towork, and a great swaggerer; but they allowed him to join them. Now Drangey was an island whose cliffs rose sheer up from the sea;there was good pasturage on it, and many sheep and cattle, owned byabout twenty men, who amongst them held the island in shares. Two mencalled Hialti and Thorbiorn Angle, being the richest men, had thelargest shares. When the men got ready to fetch their beasts from theisland for slaughter, they found it occupied, which they thoughtstrange; but supposing the men in possession to be shipwreckedsailors, they rowed to the place where the ladders were, but foundthese drawn up. Persuasion was of no avail, so the baffled ownersretired, and in one way or another made over their respective sharesto Angle, on the understanding that he would free the island fromthese unwelcome intruders. The months wore on, and brought no change;but now Grettir said he would go to the mainland and get victuals. Disguising himself, he carried out his plan, leaving Illugi and Noiseto guard the ladders. Sports were being held at a place calledHeron-ness, and the stranger was asked if he would wrestle. 'Timewas, ' he said, 'when he had been fond of it, but he had now given itup; yet, upon condition of peace and safe conduct being assured to himuntil such time as he returned home, he was willing to try a bout. 'This was agreed to, whereupon he cast aside his disguise, and stoodrevealed as Grettir the outlaw. All saw that they had been beguiled, yet, for their oath's sake, they could do nothing. First Hialti alonetried to throw Grettir, but met with nothing but a mighty fall; thenhe and his brother Angle tried together, but though each of them hadthe strength of two men they were no match for their antagonist, andhad to retire discomfited. Then Grettir went back to Drangey. Two winters had now been spent onthe island, but firewood was hard to come by; Noise was sent down togather drifted logs from the sea, but he grew lazier and grumbled moreand more every day, letting the fire out on one occasion, whereas hisduty was to keep it burning. Grettir determined to swim to themainland and bring back wood; in this he was successful, though thedistance was a sea mile, whereat all said his prowess both on land andsea was marvellous. Meanwhile Angle, having been baffled in a secondattempt to land and drive out Grettir, induced a young man calledHoering, an expert climber, to try to scale the cliffs, promisinghim if successful a very large reward. Angle rowed him over, andHoering did, indeed, scale the precipice, but young Illugi was onthe watch, chased him round the island, and Hoering, sore pressed, leapt over the cliff and was killed. [Illustration: The Witch Thurid cuts a charm on the log. ] About this time, Grettir having been so many years in outlawry, manythought that the sentence should be annulled; and it was deemedcertain that he would be pardoned in the next ensuing summer; but theywho had owned the island were exceedingly discontented at theprospect of his acquittal, and urged Angle either to give back theisland or slay Grettir. Now Angle had a foster-mother, Thurid; she wasold and cunning in witchcraft, which she had learnt in her youth; forthough Christianity had now been established in the island, yet thereremained still many traces of heathendom. Angle and she put out in aten-oared boat to pick a quarrel with Grettir, of which the upshot wasthat the outlaw threw a huge stone into the boat, where the witch laycovered up with wrappings, and broke her leg. Angle had to endure manytaunts at the failure of all his attempts to outplay Grettir. One day, Thurid was limping along by the sea, when she found a large log, partof the trunk of a tree. She cut a flat space on it, carved magiccharacters, or runes, on the root, reddened them with her blood, andsang witch-words over them; then she walked backwards round it, andwiddershins--which means in a direction against the sun--and thrustthe log out to sea under many strong spells, in such wise that itshould drive out to Drangey. In the teeth of the wind it went, till itcame to the island, where Illugi and Grettir saw it, but knowing itboded them ill, they thrust it out from shore; yet next morning was itthere again, nearer the ladders than before; but again they drove itout to sea. The days wore on to summer, and a gale sprang up with wet;the brothers being short of firewood, Noise was sent down to the shoreto look for drift, grumbling at being ordered out in bad weather, when, lo! the log was there again, and he fetched it up. Grettir was angry with Noise, and not noticing what the log was, hewedat it with his axe, which glanced from the wood and cut into his leg, right down to the bone. Illugi bound it up, and at first it seemed asthough the wound was healed. But after a time his leg took to painingGrettir, and became blue and swollen, so that he could not sleep, andIllugi watched by him night and day. At this time Thurid advisedAngle to make another attempt on the island; he therefore gathered aforce of a dozen men together, and set sail in very foul weather, butno sooner had they reached open sea than the wind lulled, so they cameto Drangey at dusk. Noise had been told to guard the ladders, and hadgone out as usual with very ill grace; he thought to himself he wouldnot draw them up, so he lay down there and fell asleep, remaining allday long in slumber till Angle came to the island. Mounting theladders, he and his men found Noise snoring at the top; arousing himroughly, they learned from him what had happened, and how Grettir laysick in the hut with Illugi tending him. Angle thrashed Noise soundlyfor betraying his master, and the men made for the hut. Illugi guardedthe door with the greatest valour, and when they thrust at him withspears he struck off all the spear heads from the shafts. But some ofthe men leapt up on to the roof, tore away the thatch, and broke oneof the rafters. Grettir thrust up with a spear and killed one man, buthe could not rise from his knee by reason of his wound; the othersleapt down and attacked him; young Illugi threw his shield over himand made defence for both in most manly wise. Grettir killed anotherman, whose body fell upon him, so that he could not use his sword;wherefore Angle at that moment was able to stab him between theshoulders, and many another wound they gave him till they thought hewas dead. Angle took Grettir's short sword and struck at the head ofthe body with such force that a piece of the sword-blade was nickedout. So died Grettir, the bravest man of all who ever dwelt inIceland. The gallant young Illugi was offered his life by Angle if he wouldpromise not to try to avenge Grettir; but he scorned the offer, andwas slain next day; the brothers were buried in a cairn on the island. Noise was taken aboard the boat, but bore himself so ill that he toowas killed. Now Angle thought to claim from Thorir of Garth thereward set upon Grettir's head; but the murderer was very ill spokenof in the land: first, because he had used sorcery, which was againstthe law; next, that he had acted a cowardly part in bearing armsagainst a half-dead man. A suit of outlawry was brought against him inthe Thing; but seeing that it would go against him he escaped toNorway. In that country lived an elder half-brother of Grettir, whohad heard of his fate and determined to avenge him; neither knew theother by sight. Angle, however, becoming uneasy, went to Micklegarth(Constantinople), whither he was followed by Thorstein Dromond. Oneday, at a weapon-showing, or exhibition of arms, Angle drew the shortsword which had belonged to Grettir; it was praised by all as a goodweapon, but the notch in the edge was a blemish. Angle related how hehad slain Grettir, and how the notch came to be there. ThereuponThorstein, who was present, knew his man, and asked to be allowed, like the rest, to see the short sword; Angle gave it to him, whereuponThorstein clove his head in two with it, and Angle fell to earth deadand dishonoured. Thus Grettir was avenged. The End. * * * * * EDITED BY ANDREW LANG. * * * * * THE BLUE FAIRY BOOK. With 138 Illustrations. Crown 8vo. Gilt edges, 6s. THE RED FAIRY BOOK. With 100 Illustrations. Crown 8vo. Gilt edges, 6s. THE GREEN FAIRY BOOK. With 99 Illustrations. Crown 8vo. Gilt edges, 6s. THE YELLOW FAIRY BOOK. With 104 Illustrations. Crown 8vo. Gilt edges, 6s. THE PINK FAIRY BOOK. With 67 Illustrations. Crown 8vo. Gilt edges, 6s. THE GREY FAIRY BOOK. With 65 Illustrations. Crown 8vo. Gilt edges, 6s. THE VIOLET FAIRY BOOK. With 8 ColouredPlates and 54 other Illustrations. Crown 8vo. Gilt edges, 6s. THE BLUE POETRY BOOK. With 100 Illustrations. Crown 8vo. Gilt edges, 6s. THE BLUE POETRY BOOK. School Edition, without Illustrations. Fcp. 8vo. 2s. 6d. 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