se have I heard of you, and not without warrant. For a
nobler match for beauty and valor than you and Sir Tristram the world
does not hold."

"We thank you heartily," replied Tristram and Isolde. "Such praise from
King Arthur is the highest honor that men's lips could give."

Then they talked of other things, but mainly of the tournament.

"Why were you against us?" asked Arthur. "You are a Knight of the Round
Table, and have fought to-day against your own."

"Here is Dinadan, and your own nephew Gareth. You must blame them for
that," said Tristram, smiling.

"You may lay all the blame on my shoulders, if Tristram wishes it," said
Gareth.

"Not on mine, then," said Dinadan. "Mine are only broad enough to carry
my own sins. It was this unhappy Tristram brought us to the tournament,
and I owe to him a whole body full of aches and pains as it is, without
taking any of his sins in my sack, to boot."

At this the king and Lancelot laughed heartily, and the more so at the
sour grimace with which Dinadan ended.

"What knight was he with the shield of silver that held you so short?"
asked Arthur.

"Here he sits," said Tristram.

"What! was it Palamides?"

"None less than he," said Isolde.

"That was not a courteous action."

"Sir," said Palamides, "Tristram was so disguised that I knew him not."

"That may well be," said Lancelot, "for I knew him no better."

"However it be, we are friends again," said Tristram, "and I hope will
continue so."

And so the evening passed, till the time came for Arthur and Lancelot to
take their leave.

That night Palamides slept not for the pain and envy that burned in his
heart. But when his friends entered his chamber in the morning they
found him fast asleep, with his cheeks stained with tears.

"Say nothing," said Tristram. "The poor fellow has been deeply wounded
by the rebuke that I and Isolde gave him. Lay no heavier load upon his
heart."

CHAPTER VII.

THE WOES OF TWO LOVERS.

Early on the third morning of the tournament the knights of Tristram's
party were up and armed, they now being all arrayed in red, as was also
Isolde and her maidens. And rare was the show they made as they rode
gayly to the priory, where they left Isolde and her maidens to occupy
their proper seats. As the knights turned thence towards the field they
heard three loud bugle-blasts, and saw the throng of armed knights press
eagerly forward, while already from the listed space came