other
until the blood poured from them in streams, and so courageous were they,
and determined not to give in, that they fought on and on until it seemed
as though that struggle would last for ever. They hurled at each other
with such fury that the blood ran down them in streams, dyeing the ground
all round, yet neither prevailed in the least degree.

By and by, though, Sir Tristram, being the younger and the better-winded,
proved the fresher, and drawing up all his strength for one last effort,
he smote Sir Marhaus on the helm with such force that Sir Marhaus fell on
his knees, and the sword cleaving through helmet and skull stuck so fast in
the bone that Sir Tristram had to pull three times at it with all his
might before he could get it free, and when it did come, a piece of the
edge of the sword was left behind in the skull.

Overcome with pain and shame at his defeat, Sir Marhaus with a mighty
effort raised himself to his feet, and without speaking one word, flung
from him his sword and his shield, and staggered away to his ship.

"Ah!" mocked Sir Tristram, "why do you, a knight of the Table Round, flee
from a knight so young and untried as I?" But Sir Marhaus made as though
he did not hear the taunts, but hurrying on board his ship, set sail with
all possible speed.

"Well, Sir Knight," laughed Tristram, "I thank you for your sword and
shield; I will keep them wherever I go, and the shield I will carry to the
day of my death." So Sir Marhaus returned to Ireland, and there, in spite
of all that physicians could do, he soon died of his disgrace and his
wounds; and after he was dead, the piece of sword-blade, which could not
be extracted before, was found embedded in his brainpan.

When the queen, his sister, saw the piece of sword-blade which was taken
from her brother's skull, she asked that she might have it; and putting it
away in a secret spot she vowed a solemn vow that when she had found out
who had done this thing, she would never rest until she had had revenge.

But about that time Sir Tristram, who had been severely wounded himself,
was also lying at the point of death, neither knowing nor caring to know
of the blessings and praises showered upon him; and great was the grief
that filled the hearts of all the leeches and surgeons for whom King Mark
had sent, for not one was of any avail, and the gallant young knight who
had saved the honour of Cornwall was more than like to die.

At last, when hope