Part 11 (1/2)

”Yes,” added Sir Torre simply, ”since I can't use it you may have it.”

His father laughed. ”Fie, Churl, is that an answer for a n.o.ble knight?

You must pardon him, but Lavaine, my younger boy, is so full of life he will ride in the lists, joust for the diamond, win and bring it in one hour to set upon his sister's golden hair and make her three times as wilful as before.”

”Oh, no, good father! don't shame me before this n.o.ble knight. It was all a joke. Elaine dreamed that some one had put the diamond into her hand and it was so slippery it dropped into a pool of water. Then I told her that if I fought and won it for her she must keep it safer than that. But it was all in fun. However, if you'll give me your leave, I'll ride to Camelot with this n.o.ble knight. I shall not win but I'll do my best to win.”

Lancelot smiled a moment. ”If you'll give me the pleasure of your company over the downs where I lost myself I'll be glad to have you as a friend and guide. You shall win the diamond if you can and then give it to your sister if you wish.”

”Such diamonds are for queens and not for simple little girls,” said Sir Torre.

Elaine flushed at this and Lancelot said, ”If beautiful things are for beautiful people this maiden may wear as fine jewels as there are in the world.”

Then the lily maid lifted her eyes and thought that Lancelot was the greatest man that had ever lived. She loved his bruised and bronzed face seamed across with an old sword-cut.

They took the pet knight of Arthur's court into the rude hall of Astolat where they entertained him with their best meats, wines and minstrel melodies. They told him about the dumb old man at the gate, how ten years ago he had warned Astolat of the heathen fighters coming, and how they had all escaped to the woods and lived in a boatman's hut by the river while the old man had been caught and had his tongue cut off.

”Those were dull days,” said the Lord of Astolat, ”until Arthur came and drove the heathen away.”

”O, great Lord!” cried Lavaine to Lancelot, ”you fought in those glorious wars with Arthur. Tell us about them!”

So Lancelot told him all about the fight all day long at the white mouth of the river Glenn, the four loud battles on the sh.o.r.e of Duglas where the glorious king wore on his cuira.s.s an emerald carved into Our Lady's head. ”On the mount of Badon,” he said, ”I saw him charge at the head of all of his Round Table and break the heathen hosts. Afterward he stood on a heap of the killed, all red, from his spurs to the plumes of his helmet, with their blood, and he cried to me: 'They are broken! they are broken!' In this heathen war the fire of G.o.d filled him, I never saw anyone like him, there is no greater leader.”

”Except yourself,” thought the lily maid Elaine. All through the night she saw his dark, splendid face living before her eyes and early in the morning she arose as if to bid goodbye to Lavaine, stole step after step down the long tower stairs and pa.s.sed out to the court where Lancelot was smoothing the glossy shoulders of his horse. She drew nearer and stood in the dewy light, studying his face as though it was a G.o.d. He had never dreamed she was so beautiful.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”FAIR LORD,” SAID ELAINE.]

”Fair lord,” said Elaine, ”I don't know your name but I believe it is the n.o.blest himself of them all. Will you wear a token of me at the tournament today?”

”No, pretty lady,” said he, ”for I've never worn a token of any woman in the lists; as every one who knows me knows.”

”Then by wearing mine you'll be less likely to be found out this time.”

”That's true, my child, well, I'll wear it. Fetch it out to me. What is it?”

”A red sleeve bordered with pearls,” replied Elaine, and she went in and brought it out to him.

Then he wound it round his helmet and said he had never before done so much for any girl in the world. The blood sprang to Elaine's face as he said that, and filled her with delight, although she grew all the paler as Lavaine came out and handed Sir Torre's s.h.i.+eld to Lancelot. Lancelot gave his own s.h.i.+eld to Elaine saying, ”Do me this favor, child, keep my s.h.i.+eld for me until I come back.”

”It's a favor to me,” she replied smiling, ”I'll be your squire.”

”Come, Lily Maid,” cried Lavaine, ”you'll be a lily maid in earnest if you don't get to bed and have some sleep,” and he kissed her good-bye.

Lancelot kissed her hand as they moved away. She watched them at the gateway until their sparkling arms dipped below the downs, then climbed up to her tower with the s.h.i.+eld and there she studied it and mused over it every day.

Meanwhile Lancelot and Lavaine pa.s.sed far over the long downs until they reached an old hermit who lived in a white rock. Here they spent the night. The next morning as they rode away Lancelot said, ”Listen to me, but keep what I say a secret, you're riding with Lancelot of the Lake.”

”The great Lancelot?” stammered Lavaine, catching his breath with surprise. ”There is only one other great man to see, and that is Britain's king of kings, Arthur. And he's going to be at the tournament, too.”

As soon as they reached the lists in the meadows by Camelot, Lancelot pointed out the king who, as he sat in the peopled gallery was very easy to recognize because of his five dragons. A golden dragon clung to his crown, another writhed down his robe while two others in gilded carved wood-work formed the arms of his chair. The canopy above him blazed with the last big diamond.

”You call me great,” cried Lancelot, ”I'm not great, there's the man.”