ir
young hearts.

"I would give much to know who this valiant knight can be," said
Gawaine.

"He will be known before he departs," answered Arthur. "Trust me for
that."

Then the king blew to lodging, and the prize was given by the heralds to
the knight with the white shield who bore the red sleeve. Around
Lancelot gathered the leaders on his side, and thanked him warmly for
gaining them the victory.

"If I have deserved thanks I have sorely paid for them," said Lancelot,
"for I doubt if I escape with my life. Dear sirs, permit me to depart,
for just now I would rather have repose than be lord of all the world."

Then he broke from them and galloped away, though his wound forced
piteous groans from his steadfast heart. When out of sight of them all
he checked his horse, and begged Lavaine to help him dismount and to
draw the spear-head from his side.

"My lord," said Lavaine, "I would fain help you; yet I fear that to draw
the spear will be your death."

"It will be my death if it remains," said Lancelot. "I charge you to
draw it."

This Lavaine did, the pain being so deadly that Lancelot shrieked and
fell into a death-like swoon, while a full pint of blood gushed from the
wound. Lavaine stopped the bleeding as well as he could, and with great
trouble got the wounded knight to a neighboring hermitage, that stood in
front of a great cliff, with a clear stream running by its foot.

Here Lavaine beat on the door with the butt of his spear, and cried
loudly,--

"Open, for Jesus' sake! Open, for a noble knight lies bleeding to death
at your gate!"

This loud appeal quickly brought out the hermit, who was named Baldwin
of Brittany, and had once been a Round Table knight. He gazed with pity
and alarm on the pale face and bleeding form before him.

"I should know this knight," he said. "Who is he?"

"Fair sir," said Lancelot, feebly, "I am a stranger and a knight-errant,
who have sought renown through many realms, and have come here to my
deadly peril."

As he spoke the hermit recognized him, by a wound on his pallid cheek.

"Ah, my lord Lancelot," he said, "you cannot deceive me thus."

"Then, if you know me, help me for heaven's sake. Relieve me from this
pain, whether it be by life or death."

"I shall do my best," said the hermit. "Fear not that you will die."

Then he had him borne into the hermitage, and laid in bed, his armor
being removed. This done, the hermit stanched the bleeding, anointed the