But hardly had he rested a minute when the defeated knight returned, as fresh as at the start, and attacked Bors with renewed strength. Again the battle went on fiercely. But when Bors saw his antagonist once more retreating towards the chamber door, he cried out,--
"Not so, my good fellow. You played that trick on me once; you shall not again. Back and defend yourself. If you defeat me it shall be by strength, not by magic." And he stationed himself before the door, and drove back his opponent with such fury, that in a moment more he hurled him to the floor.
"Yield, or you die!" he cried, setting his foot on the fallen knight"s head.
"I yield," came the answer.
"What is your name?"
"I am Sir Pedivere of the Straight Marches."
"Then, Sir Pedivere of the Straight Marches, take yourself away. And if you have any of your fellows behind yonder door, bid them to keep out of this room, for I came here to sleep, not to fight. At Whitsunday next, present yourself at King Arthur"s court, and tell him that you have come thither as a prisoner of Sir Bors of the sharp sword."
This, Sir Pedivere swore to do, and left his conqueror to what rest he could get. But this was little, for enchantment surrounded the daring knight. The room suddenly became full of frightful noises and alive with peril. Whence they came he knew not, whether through doors or windows, but a flight of arrows and of crossbow bolts filled the air, whistling shrewdly past his ears, while many of them fell upon him and pierced his flesh through the open places in his armor.
"Who can sleep in such a den of witchcraft as this?" he cried, in a rage, springing from the bed. As he did so one of the doors opened, and a great lion leaped fiercely in, with a hideous roar.
"It is better to fight a lion that one can see, than arrows which n.o.body shoots," cried Bors, and he rushed without hesitation on the dangerous animal.
Sharp was the fight that followed, but of short duration. The lion sprang wildly upon him, and tore the shield from his arm, while the sharp claws rent his flesh. But the knight retorted with a sweeping stroke that cut off the frightful beast"s head, and stretched its tawny body lifeless on the floor.
Then Bors walked to the window to see whither the arrows had come, and as he looked into the castle court he beheld a wondrous sight. For before his eyes stood a dragon, huge and horrible of aspect, in whose forehead were letters of gold which seemed to him to form King Arthur"s emblem. And as he gazed there leaped into the court an old and mighty leopard, which sprang upon the dragon and engaged in desperate battle with the huge monster.
At last the dragon spit out of its mouth a hundred of what seemed small dragons, and these quickly leaped upon the frightful beast and rent it to fragments. Then all the animals disappeared, and an old man came into the court, around whose neck two adders wreathed their folds. In his hand was a harp, upon which he played, while he sang an old song telling how Joseph of Arimathea came to that land. When his song was ended he said to Sir Bors,--
"Go from this land, sir knight, for you shall have no more adventures here. You have played your part well and n.o.bly, and shall do still better hereafter, for wondrous things are reserved for you."
Then Bors saw a dove of whitest plumage fly across the court with a golden censer in its mouth, from which seemed to stream the most delicious perfumes. And the tempest which had raged in the sky suddenly ceased, while from the rent clouds the full moon poured down its white light to the earth.
Next there came into the court four children who bore four tapers, and an old man in their midst with a censer in one hand a spear in the other, and that spear was called the spear of vengeance.
"Go to your cousin, Sir Lancelot," said the old man, "and tell him what you have seen, and that if he had been as clean of sin as he should be, the adventure which all this signifies would have been his. Tell him, moreover, that though in worldly adventures he pa.s.ses all others in manhood and prowess, there are many his betters in spiritual worth, and that what you have seen and done this night he was not deemed worthy of."
Then Bors saw four meanly-dressed gentlewomen pa.s.s through his chamber, and enter an apartment beyond which was lit up with a light like that of midsummer. Here they knelt before an altar of silver with four pillars, where also kneeled a man in the dress of a bishop. And as the knight looked upward he beheld a naked sword hovering over his head, whose blade shone like silver, yielding a flashing light that blinded him as he gazed. As he stood thus sightless, he heard a voice which said,--
"Go hence, Sir Bors, for as yet thou art not worthy to be in this place."
Then the door of that chamber closed, and he went backward to his bed, where he lay and slept undisturbed till morning dawned. But when the regent of King Pellam learned what had happened to his guest in the night, and how he had escaped the perils of the enchanted chamber, he greeted him joyfully, and said,--
"You are the first that ever endured so well that chamber"s mysteries.
And more has been shown to your eyes than any others have seen. Go home, worthy knight. You are chosen for great deeds in the time to come."
Sir Bors thereupon took his horse and rode away, thinking long and deeply on all that had happened to him.
CHAPTER II.
THE MARVEL OF THE FLOATING SWORD.
Many and strange were the events that followed those we have just related, and great trouble and woe came therefrom. For when Sir Bors returned to Camelot and told the story of the wedding of Lancelot and Elaine, much was the secret talk and great the scandal. And when the news came to Guenever"s ears she flamed with wrath.
Not long afterwards, Lancelot returned, still half frenzied with the deception that had been practised upon him. When Guenever saw him she accused him bitterly of being a traitor to love, and harshly bade him leave the court, and never come again within her sight.
This bitter reviling turned Lancelot"s frenzy to a sudden madness. With distracted brain he leaped from a window into a garden, and ran like a wild man through wood and brake, heedless that his clothes were torn and his flesh rent with thorns and briers. Thus hotly burns despised love in the human heart and brain, and thus it may turn the strongest senses away and bring madness to the clearest mind.
On learning what had pa.s.sed, Bors and Hector went to the queen, and accused her harshly of the great wrong she had done to the n.o.ble Lancelot. But she was already torn with remorse, and she knelt before these n.o.ble knights, begging their forgiveness, and praying them pitifully to seek Lancelot and bring him back to the court.
Months pa.s.sed and Lancelot returned not, nor could he be found, though he was sought through many lands. For he kept afar from cities and courts, and roamed through wilds and wastes, where he had many adventures in his madness, and did strange and wild things.
For two years he wandered hither and thither in frenzy, until at length he came to King Pellam"s city of Corbin, and to the castle where dwelt the fair Elaine. Here he was given shelter in a little outhouse, with straw to sleep on, while every day they threw him meat and set him drink, for none would venture near a madman of such savage aspect.
But one day as he slept, Elaine chanced to behold him, and knew him at once for Lancelot. Telling a trusty baron of her discovery, she had the distracted knight borne still sleeping into a tower chamber in which was kept the holy vessel, the Sangreal, concealed from all eyes save those of persons of saintly life. Lancelot was laid near this, and when all had left the chamber a man of sanct.i.ty entered and uncovered the vessel.
Such was its holy influence that it wrought marvellously upon the distracted knight as he lay there asleep and the madness pa.s.sed away from his brain. When he woke he was himself again, as whole a man in mind and body as any that stood upon the earth. For so healing was the virtue of that precious vessel that it not only drove the cloud of madness from his mind, but gave him back all his old might and comeliness of body.
Then, ashamed of his frenzy, and anxious not to be known, Lancelot a.s.sumed the name of the Chevalier Mal Fet, or the knight who has trespa.s.sed, and took up his abode with Elaine and many knights and ladies at a castle given him by King Pellam. This stood on an island in the midst of a deep and clear lake, which Lancelot named the Joyous Isle. And now, filled again with martial fervor, he made it known far and wide that he would joust with any knights that came that way, and that any one who should put him to the worst would receive as a prize a jewel of worth and a jerfalcon.
But none won the prize, though very many n.o.ble knights jousted with the Chevalier Mal Fet.
Last of all came Percivale and Hector, who had been long in search of Lancelot. Learning the challenge, Percivale jousted with Lancelot, and afterwards they fought with swords. So long and even was their combat, that a length both paused for breath. And now Percivale, wondering who this st.u.r.dy knight could be, told his name, and asked for his in return.
At this, Lancelot threw away his weapon, and took his late opponent in his arms, crying out that he was Lancelot du Lake.
Glad was the meeting between these old friends and comrades, and richly were the new-comers entertained in the castle. But in the end they persuaded Lancelot to go with them to Camelot, and the disconsolate Elaine was left to return, with her knights and ladies, to her father"s castle.
After these events years came and went, until many summers and winters had pa.s.sed over England"s fair isle, and age had begun to lay its hand on those who had been young, while those who had been children grew up and became knights and ladies. Then came at length the time fixed by destiny for the adventure of the Sangreal. And thus this adventure began.
When again approached the vigil of Pentecost, and all the fellowship of the Round Table had come to Camelot, and the tables were set to dine, there rode into the great hall a gentlewoman of n.o.ble aspect, whose horse was white with sweat and foam.
She saluted Lancelot and begged him to go with her, though whither and for what purpose she would not say. Stirred by his love of adventure, he armed and rode with her, and before the day"s end reached an abbey of nuns in a secluded valley. Here, as he stood conversing with the abbess, there came in to him twelve nuns, bringing with them a youth who had not yet reached manhood, but was large and powerful of frame, and as handsome of face as any man he had ever seen.
"Sir," said the ladies, with weeping eyes, "we bring you this child, whom we have long nourished, and pray you to make him a knight; for there is no worthier man from whom he can receive the order of knighthood, and we hold him worthy of your sword."
Lancelot looked long at the young squire, and saw that he was seemly, and demure as a dove, and of wonderful beauty of form and features, and his heart went out with great love for the beautiful youth.
"What is his name?" asked Lancelot.
"We call him Galahad."
"Comes this desire from himself?"
"It does," said they all.
"From whom has he sprung?"
"His mother is dead. His father is a full n.o.ble knight, as you shall soon learn."
"Then he shall be knighted by my hand to-morrow at the morning services, for truly he seems worthy of it."