e, thinking he
might meet Lionel or some other of his old comrades at the tournament.
At length he turned aside to a hermitage that stood at the entrance to
the forest. And to his surprise and joy he saw his brother Lionel
sitting armed at the chapel door, waiting there to take part in the
tournament the next morning.

Springing from his horse, Bors ran up gladly, crying, "Dear brother,
happy is this meeting!"

"Come not near me!" cried Lionel, leaping to his feet in a burst of
fury. "False recreant, you left me in peril of death to help a yelping
woman, and by my knightly vow you shall pay dearly for it. Keep from me,
traitor, and defend yourself. You or I shall die for this."

On seeing his brother in such wrath Bors kneeled beseechingly before
him, holding up his hands, and praying for pardon and forgiveness.

"Never!" said Lionel. "I vow to God to punish you for your treachery.
You have lived long enough for a dog and traitor."

Then he strode wrathfully away, and came back soon, mounted and with
spear in hand.

"Bors de Ganis," he cried, "defend yourself, for I hold you as a felon
and traitor, and the untruest knight that ever came from so worthy a
house as ours. Mount and fight. If you will not, I will run on you as
you stand there on foot. The shame shall be mine and the harm yours; but
of that shame I reck naught."

When Bors saw that he must fight with his brother or die he knew not
what to do. Again he kneeled and begged forgiveness, in view of the love
that ought to be between brothers.

But the fiend that sought his overthrow had put such fury into Lionel's
heart that nothing could turn him from his wrathful purpose. And when he
saw that Bors would not mount, he spurred his horse upon him and rode
over him, hurting him so with his horse's hoofs that he swooned with the
pain. Then Lionel sprang from his horse and rushed upon him sword in
hand to strike off his head.

At this critical moment the hermit, who was a man of great age, came
running out, and threw himself protectingly on the fallen knight.

"Gentle sir," he cried to Lionel, "have mercy on me and on thy brother,
who is one of the worthiest knights in the world. If you slay him, you
will lose your soul."

"Sir priest," said Lionel, sternly, "if you leave not I shall slay you,
and him after you."

"Slay me if you will, but spare your brother, for my death would not do
half so much harm as his."

"Have it, then, meddler, if you will!" c