et he was passing well made of body, with broad
shoulders and of big limbs. The heart of King Mark became light.

'Fair son,' he said, and his barons marvelled at his soft words, 'what
are ye and whence come ye?'

'Sir,' said the youth, 'I come from King Talloch, Prince of Lyones, and
I am a gentleman's son.'

'And your name and birthplace--what are they?'

'My name is Tristram, sir, and I was born in Lyones.'

'Young sir,' said the king, 'I like your manner, and I think ye should
be a good man of your hands. Therefore will I make you knight if ye
will fight with Sir Marhaus.'

'That is why I have come,' said Tristram.

Eagerly the king bade a baron give him his sword, and commanded
Tristram to kneel, and then and there he tapped his shoulder with the
flat of the sword and bade him rise, 'Sir Tristram of Lyones.'

The king commanded his scrivener to come to him, and on the low wall
overlooking the sea the man of inkhorn and goosequill laid his
parchment, and wrote a letter to Sir Marhaus at the king's dictation,
saying that a knight would battle with him in the morning. A messenger
was sent therewith without delay, and the king went into supper,
snapping his fingers and joking with his barons in great glee.

But in the midst of supper a parchment was brought to the king and his
face fell, and he commanded the new-made knight to come from his seat
and stand before him.

'Hark ye,' he said, his face dark, 'this prideful Sir Marhaus, waiting
so long, hath made his terms the harder. I fear, good fellow, your
knighthood hath been earned of me too easily, even if ye are not in
league with this pesky Irish knight,' he went on, his narrow eyes
gleaming with suspicion. 'He sayeth now that he will not fight with any
knight unless he be of blood royal on his mother's side or father's.
Say, are ye some starveling knight's brat, or what are ye?'

Sir Tristram's face went hard and his eyes flashed.

'No starveling's brat am I, king,' he said, 'unless ye are that
thyself.'

'What mean you? Have a care of your saucy tongue.'

'I fear thee not,' laughed Sir Tristram, 'but this I would have you
know. I am thy nephew, son of thy sister Elizabeth, who died in the
forest, and of King Talloch of Lyones.'

At these words the king rose from his seat and embraced Sir Tristram,
crying:

'Now, in the name of Heaven, thou art right heartily welcome unto me,
dear nephew.'

That evening he made great cheer of Sir Tristram, and