Sir Bors ran towards the food, and so ravenous was his hunger that he would have devoured it instantly. But he bethought him before he had placed any of it to his lips, and dropping it he crossed himself and ran back into the stall and tried not to look forth. He knew that the food was placed there by some fell fiend or demon to tempt him, and if he ate of that unholy food, his soul would be for ever lost.

Anon sweet voices sounded in the courtyard as if to attract him forth, and the smell of the hot food was wafted strongly into the stable. The fiends themselves could not enter, for there was a horse-shoe hung in the proper way upon the lintel of the door, and, moreover, Sir Bors had stuck his sword-point in the ground, and the holy sign of the cross prevented the evil things from crossing the threshold.

All that day did Sir Bors lie half dying, while the fiends tempted him, but the knight was too strong and manful of soul to yield, and would liefer die than become the slave of the powers of the Netherworld.

Then in the twilight he commended his soul to G.o.d, for he felt near to death. When he had finished his prayer, he heard great and horrible cries in the court as of rage and disappointment. Then came an old man at the door of the stable, white of hair and very reverend; and he came and put his hand upon Sir Bors' head and spoke mildly and said:

'Good and faithful knight, sorely tried have ye been, and now you shall have no more adventures here. Full worshipfully have ye done and better shall ye do hereafter. And now your wounds shall be healed and ye shall have good cheer until to-morrow.'

Therewith there was all manner of sweetness and savour in the place, and Sir Bors saw as in a mist a shining vessel borne by a wondrous maiden. He knew that this was the Holy Graal; and he bowed his head, and forthwith he was whole of his wounds.

On the morrow he departed after a night's sweet sleep, and rode to Arthur's court and told of his adventures.

The king and queen and all the fellowship of the Round Table were pa.s.sing glad to see Sir Bors whole and well, and they made much of him, for they felt that he would do things of great renown.

Then at the feast of Pentecost went all the court to the minster to hear their service; and when they returned to the palace the king ordered that dinner should be prepared in the hall of the Round Table, for this was one of the days when he was wont to a.s.semble all his knights at a great feast of knighthood.

While they waited for the horn to sound, warning them that the meal was ready, one came running to the king, saying that a thing of marvel had happened. And Arthur went to the hall of the Round Table with his knights, and there in the seats about the great circular board they found letters of gold written, which said, 'Here should sit Sir Bedevere,' or 'Here should sit Sir Gawaine,' and thus was the name of a knight written in every seat.

In the Siege, or Seat, Perilous, where twice or thrice a reckless knight had dared to sit, but only to be struck dead by a sudden flashing blow of mystery, there were written the words, 'In the four hundredth and fourth and fiftieth year after the pa.s.sion of our Lord, shall he that shall fill this seat come among ye.'

All the knights marvelled and looked each at the other.

'It seemeth me,' said Lancelot, 'that this is the very day on which this seat shall be filled by him for whom it is appointed, for this is the four hundred and fifty-fourth winter since Christ died on the rood.'

It was seen that on each side of the Siege Perilous was written, on the right one, the name of Sir Perceval, and on the left one, the name of Sir Bors.

Then the horn was sounded to dinner, and each knight took the seat appointed for him, and young knights served them. All the sieges round the table were filled except the Siege Perilous.

Men ate and drank soberly, for they felt that an adventure strange and marvellous should happen that day, and so indeed it befell.

For when they had eaten, and the priest was saying in a great silence the grace after meat, suddenly a shrill wind sounded without, and all the doors and windows shut fast. Men looked at each other in the twilight thus caused, and many a face was white with fear.

Then the door opened and an old and reverend man entered, white of beard and head, and clothed also in white; and Sir Bors knew him for the same who had come to him at the Castle of Fiends. By the right hand the ancient man brought a young knight, clad in red armour, with a sword at his side, but with no shield.

'Peace be with you, fair lords,' said the old man. Then turning to the king he said:

'Sir, I bring here a young knight, the which is of king's lineage, whereby the marvels of this court shall be accomplished, and the trial of this thy kingdom shall be brought to a happy end, if that may be.

And the name of him is Galahad.'

'Sir,' said the king, 'ye be right welcome and the young knight with you.'

The old man made the young knight unarm him, and he was in a coat of red sendal, and bare a mantle that was furred with ermine. Then was the young man led by the reverend man to the Siege Perilous, and sat him thereon, and men marvelled to see that the death-stroke did not flash like lightning and slay him.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SIR GALAHAD IS BROUGHT TO THE COURT OF KING ARTHUR]

'Sir,' said the old man to him, 'wit ye well that that is your seat.

For you are he that shall surely achieve the Holy Graal, and such of these your fellows as are pure in heart and humble shall achieve it with you.'

'Sir,' said the king, 'if it may be that ye know, will ye tell us what my knights must do to achieve the Holy Vessel, and thus bring peace into my kingdom in place of war? For many of those that are kings and barons under me are warring with each other, and threaten to rend this island of Britain, and some are forsaking Christ and are turning to the evil faith and cruel worship of the pagan G.o.ds of Britain. And it goeth to my heart to know this, and I have much dread.'

'Sir king,' said the old white man, 'none may tell you what shall be the end of this quest of the Holy Graal, but I can tell you and these your knights what they must do to save this land from the ruin which doth threaten it. Ye know that the Holy Vessel was that wherein Christ ate the lamb on the Thursday before he was hung upon the Cross. And Joseph of Arimathea did bring it here to Britain, and here hath it been for more than four hundred and fifty winters. And while ye and your kingdom did love Christ and did do His word, the Sangreal stayed within your borders. But now ye war with each other, and are evil livers and full of pride and mastery, and if ye do not repent and stay your dishonour, then shall the Holy Vessel pa.s.s from Britain, and ruin and death and civil war shall stalk through the land and leave it desolate.'

Having spoken thus, the old man went from the hall, and none stayed him; for too many there were who knew that they had been the evil livers at whom his words had pointed.

Then uprose Sir Gawaine, who was a faithful knight and true man to his king, though a proud one and a hasty. He was filled with sorrow for the ruin that threatened his fair land.

'Now I do here avow,' he said, 'that to-morrow, without fail, I shall set forth, and I shall labour with all the strength of my body and my soul to go in quest of the Holy Graal, so that if I be fit to see it and to bring it hither, this dear land may be saved from woe.'

So hot were his words that many of the better knights rose also, and raising their right hands did make a like avowal; and those that cared not for the quest felt that they must seem to do as the others did, and so made avowal also, though in their hearts they thought more of pride and earthly power.

'Gawaine, Gawaine,' cried the king, and the great tears stood in his eyes, 'I know ye do right to avow this and to cause these others to avow also; but a great dread is upon me, for I have great doubt that this my fellowship shall never meet again.'

'Fear not,' said Lancelot, 'for bethink ye, my lord, in no better adventure can we find death than in this quest, and of death we are all sure.'

On the morrow the knights armed themselves, and bade farewell to King Arthur and his queen, and there was much weeping and great sorrow. And as the knights rode through the streets of Camelot the crowds stood and wept, both rich and poor. All were full of dread to see so many brave knights depart that never more would return.

Having pa.s.sed through the gates of the town, every knight took the way that he liked best.

Now Sir Galahad was without a shield, and he rode four days without adventure. At evensong on the fourth day he came to an abbey of white monks, and there was given great cheer. He found two other knights of the Round Table at that abbey, the one King Bagdemagus and the other Sir Ulfin; and the three had supper together, and made great cheer one of the other, and spoke of the adventures each would desire to have.

'There is within this abbey, as men tell me, a shield,' said King Bagdemagus, 'which no man may bear about his neck, but he is injured or slain within three days. Yet to-morrow I will adventure to win it.'

In the morning, therefore, after they had heard ma.s.s, King Bagdemagus asked the abbot to show him where was the shield. Then was he led to the high altar in the church, and behind it was hung a shield which glowed with shining whiteness, and in the middle thereof was a red cross which seemed to quiver as if it were living.

'Sir,' said the abbot, 'this shield ought not to hang about any knight's neck unless he be one of the three best knights of the world, and I counsel you to beware.'

'No matter,' said King Bagdemagus, 'I will essay it, for though I am not Sir Lancelot, yet I am a good knight enough.'

This he said in his pride, and took the shield and put the strap about his neck, and bade good-bye to the other twain, and so went forth with his squire.

They had not ridden but two miles or more, when at the opening to a wood Sir Bagdemagus saw a knight in white armour on a horse, riding up and down as if to do battle with any that should venture to go into the forest drive.

When the white knight saw him he called out:

'Who art thou? Thou bearest the shield of a knight peerless, but not the armour.'

'Who am I?' replied King Bagdemagus scornfully. 'I am he that shall give a good account of myself with thee.'

With that he levelled his lance and ran furiously upon the knight. But the other stood still, and when the spear-head was nigh his shield, he lightly turned it aside, and as Sir Bagdemagus swept by, the knight, with a quick fierce stroke of his sword, smote him so hard that the blade bit through the mail even to the shoulder-bone; whereby Sir Bagdemagus fell to the ground in a swoon.

The white knight called the squire to him and said:

'Bear ye this shield to the young knight, Sir Galahad, who is at the white abbey. Greet him from me, and say that it is for him to wear this shield, and none other. And tell him that I shall meet him erelong, if G.o.d wills, and that we shall fare together to that which is appointed for us.'

The squire did as he was bidden, and told Sir Galahad of the white knight's words. Sir Galahad asked him what was the device upon the shield of the white knight, and he answered, 'A red heart.' Then said the young knight, 'It shall be even as he saith.'

Sir Galahad mounted his horse and rode alone, ever northward, for he knew that the Holy Graal was hidden in a castle somewhere in the north among the warring barons. Many days he rode without adventure, until on a day he came to an old and venerable wood, dark and thick and close, where the moss hung like thick beards from the h.o.a.ry branches.