II. HOW LANCELOT WAS MADE A KNIGHT. THE FOUR WITCH QUEENS, AND THE ADVENTURES AT THE CHAPEL PERILOUS Part 2

Then he rode a great while in a deep and dark forest, and as he followed the winding ways, suddenly he saw a black hound before him, with its nose to the ground as if seeking a scent. He followed the beast, and ever she looked behind her. Soon she left the forest, and picked her way through a great marsh, and Sir Lancelot followed, until in the wide distance he saw a little hill with trees upon it, and in the midst a ruined manor.

The hound went towards the ruin, and Sir Lancelot followed. The wall was broken down in many places, and the path all overgrown and weedy, and as he came to the courtyard before the house, he saw the fishponds choked with weeds and the horseblock green with moss, and in the great doorway grew chamel and hellebore, and the spiked hemlock waved and split its seed in the wind. The windows hung by their hinges, and the green moss crept down the wide wet cracks in the walls.

But the dog ran over the drawbridge into the house, and Sir Lancelot gat from his horse and tethered it to the post beside the horseblock, and so went across the bridge, which was full sodden and worm-eaten, and bent beneath his weight.

Coming into a great hall, foul with many rotting leaves, he saw a table in the midst thereof, and on.it,was a knight that was a seemly man, and he lay as if he were dead, and the black hound licked his wound. And by his side there was a lovely lady, who started up, weeping and wringing her hands, and she said:

"O knight, too much evil have you brought to me!"

"Why say ye so?" said Sir Lancelot; "I never did harm to this knight, for hither did this hound lead me, and therefore, fair lady, be not displeased with me, for grief is upon me for your sorrow and your sadness."

"Truly, sir," said the lady, and she laid her face in her hands and sobbed full sorely, so that Sir Lancelot was much stirred thereat, "I trow, as ye say it, that you are not the knight that hath near slain my love and my husband. And never may he be healed of his deadly wound except some good knight aid me. But he must be so bold and valiant a man, that never, I think, may I find such a one in the little time I have before my dear lord shall die!"

"Now on the honour of my knighthood," replied Sir Lancelot, "I do not presume that I am such a one as you desire; but if I may aid you and ease your sorrow, that would I do most willingly. What is it I should do?"

"Oh, sir knight!" cried the lady, and her lovely eyes looked full thankfully at Sir Lancelot, "If ye would, it were the greatest deed you have ever done, however bold a knight ye may be. For this my lord is sore wounded by a knight whom he met in the forest this day, and by one thing only may he be made whole. For there is a lady, a sorceress, that dwelleth in a castle here beside, and she hath told me that my husband's wounds may never be whole till I may find a knight that would go at midnight into the Chapel Perilous beside the Mere, and that therein he should find before the high altar a sword, and the shroud in which the dead wizard-knight is lapped, and with that sword my husband's wounds should be searched, and a piece of the shroud should bind them."

"This is a marvellous thing," said Sir Lancelot, "and I will essay it. But what is your husband's name?"

"Sir," she said, "his name is Sir Meliot de Logres."

"That me repenteth," said Sir Lancelot, "for he is a fellow of the Round Table, and for him will I do all in my power."

Going to the table he looked upon the ashen face of the wounded man, and it was Sir Meliot, even as the lady said.

"Now, sir," said the lady, when Sir Lancelot had mounted his horse,"do ye follow that hard way across the marsh, and it will lead ye by midnight to the Chapel Perilous, and may ye speed well."

Right so, Sir Lancelot departed, and the sun was near its setting.

For some hours Sir Lancelot fared across the marsh, until it was deep night, save for the stars; then he came upon a broad road, grass-grown and banked high, where the night wind piped in the long grass. This he knew was a road which the great Roman necromancers had wrought, and he thought he had missed his way, for there was no other path.

As he stood marveling, the figure of a man, tall and gaunt and but half clad, came down the broad road towards him, and cried in a hollow voice:

"For the love of charity, sir knight, give to a poor man who is outcast."

Sir Lancelot pitied the sunken eyes of the poor man, and gave him alms.

"God give thee comfort, poor soul," said the knight, "and get thee a roof, for the night wind blows chill."

"God bless thee, sir knight," said the man, in awful tones, "for courtesy and pity such as thine are rare. Whither goest thou this night?"

"I seek the Chapel Perilous," said Sir Lancelot.

At which the shape threw back its head and cried out as if with great sorrow.

"God fend thee, sir knight," he said, "and bring thee safe alive. What thou gettest there, keep thou in thy hands until the dawn, or thy soul shall suffer death."

Then he vanished, and Sir. Lancelot knew it had been a phantom.

Then as he crossed himself. he looked up, and through some thin and withered trees a little way off upon a slope he saw the shirnmer of light, as if a chapel was lit up. He went towards it, and he saw a high wall that was broken down in many places, and an old grey chapel beyond, and the windows were shimmering with a ghostly light. As he came through the trees he saw they were all dead, with neither leaf nor twig upon them, their roots were crooked out of the ground if they would throw his horse, and their limbs were as stretched as if they strained to clutch him.

Coming to the gate in the wall, his horse trembled and plunged, and would go no further; whereat Sir Lancelot alighted, and tied it to a thorn-tree, and went through the gate. By the ghostly light that came from the windows of the ruined chapel he saw that under the eaves were hung fair shields, with rich devices, and all were turned upside down. Many of them were those of knights he had known or heard of, long since dead or lost. When he had made a few steps on the grass-grown pathway towards the door, of a sudden he saw, coming from the church, thirty tall knights, each a foot higher than he, each in black armour, and each with sword uplifted, as they rushed towards him.

Their feet and their armour made no sound as they pressed forwards, and a thin blue flame licked about each naked sword.

They came upon him, but Sir Lancelot, with a prayer to God, dressed his shield and sword and stood firm, though his flesh quaked and his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth. They mowed and gnashed at him, and heaved their swords about him; then suddenly their vizors went up and he looked into their faces. And at that he was sore adread, for he knew they were dead men.

But he would not be overcome, and said in a loud voice:

"In the name of God, avaunt ye!"

He made a step forward, and they scattered before him, but followed closely behind. Then he went into the chapel, where he saw no light but a dim lamp burning upon the altar. It was an old, old chapel, with dust upon its floor like a thick carpet, the walls and windows were holed and broken, and the timber of the seats was rotten.

He went up to the high altar, and saw before it a trestle, and upon it was a dead man, all covered with a cloth of silk. Sir Lancelot stooped down, and with his sword cut a piece of that cloth away.

With that his blood seemed turned to water, and his feet seemed eager to run towards the door, for with a mighty roar the earth shook beneath him, and the walls of the chapel rocked. But he looked for the sword,which he must take, and saw it under the trestle, and picked it up and went out of the chapel..

The ghosts of the knights pressed about him as he walked, and strove to tear the sword from his grasp. But he would not suffer them to take it, and when he reached the gate they could no further go, and so left him.

At the gate there came running up to him a fair damsel, crying to him:

"O brave knight, give me the sword and the cloth, that. I may take them at once to my mistress, the lady of Sir Meliot, for he is at the point of death, arid she is waiting in sorrow and tears beside him."

But Sir Lancelot remembered the words of the phantom beggar, and made reply:

"Fair damsel, I shall take them myself to the lady of Sir Meliot, for these things I may not give to any until the dawning."

The damsel would have torn the sword and the cloth full hastily from his hands, but he was aware of her intent, and hindered her, and bade her in the name of God to withdraw.

Whereat, with a great shriek, she vanished.

"Now," said Sir Lancelot, "may God, who has brought me through these evil adventures, shield me from any further subtle crafts of these foul things."

Straightway he mounted his horse, and took his way towards the marsh, so that he should give the sword and cloth into the hands of the lady of Sir Meliot, for healing of her lord.

But at the dawn Merlin met him.

"Sir Lancelot," said the old white wizard, "ye have no need to go to the ruined manor, except ye would have the proof of what I tell you."

"And what is that?" asked Sir Lancelot.

"That all that hath befallen thee hath been done by evil magic," replied Merlin. "The black dog that led thee to the manor was a fiend, the fair lady that entreated ye was an evil witch, and she and the damsel at the chapel were the same, and all was caused by witch queens who had you in their tower; and the likeness of the wounded knight to Sir Meliot was formed by wizardry. They that craved your death did hope that ye would fail at the terrors of the Chapel Perilous, and that your soul would be lost as have the souls of those evil or weak knights whose ghosts assailed ye. But by your courage and great heart ye won through all."

"This is a great marvel," said Sir Lancelot, "and I thank God that He hath shielded me of His mercy."

When Sir Lancelot was returned to Camelot, and Merlin had told King Arthur of the knight's adventures, the king made him one of the knights of the Round Table.

"Ye do well," said Merlin privily unto the king, "for he shall prove the most man of worship that is in the world- and all your court and all your Round Table shall be by him made more famous than by any knight now living. Yet shall he not be one of those three that shall achieve the Holy Graal."