London, who was then chief ruler of the Church, had sent his letters to
each and all the great nobles, bidding them come to a great council to
be holden at the church of St. Paul at Christmas.

When men heard that this was done by the advice of Merlin, faces
lightened and looked more joyful.

'Now shall things go right,' said they, 'for the old, old Merlin hath
the deepest wisdom of all the earth.'

On Christmas Eve the city throbbed with the clank of arms and the tramp
of the great retinues of princes, kings and powerful lords who had come
at the archbishop's summons, and by day and night the narrow ways were
crowded with armed men. Long ere the dawn of Christmas Day, the lords
and the common people betook themselves along the wide road which led
across to the church, which then stood in a wide space amid fields, and
all knelt therein to mass.

While it was yet dark a great strange cry rang out in the churchyard.
Some ran forth, and there by the wall behind the high altar they saw a
vast stone, four-square, that had not been there before, and in the
middle thereof was stuck a great wedge of steel, and sticking therefrom
by the point was a rich sword. On the blade were written words in
Latin, which a clerk read forth, which said, 'Whoso pulleth this sword
out of this stone and wedge of steel is rightwise born King of all
Britain.'

The clerk ran into the church and told the archbishop, and men were all
amazed and would have gone instantly to see this marvel, but the
archbishop bade them stay.

'Finish your prayers to God,' he said, 'for no man may touch this
strange thing till high mass be done.'

When mass was finished, all poured forth from the church and thronged
about the stone, and marvelled at the words on the sword. First King
Lot, with a light laugh, took hold of the handle and essayed to pull
out the point of the sword, but he could not, and his face went hot and
angry. Then King Nentres of Garlot took his place with a jest, but
though he heaved at the sword with all his burly strength, till it
seemed like to snap, he could not move it, and so let go at last with
an angry oath. All the others essayed in like manner, but by none was
it moved a jot, and all stood about discomfited, looking with black
looks at one another and the stone.

'He that is rightwise born ruler of Britain is not here,' said the
archbishop at length, 'but doubt not he shall come in God's good time.
Meanwhile, let a tent be raise