he said that this lady had consented to the death of many innocent
rivals, and richly deserved death as a punishment for the ruthless deeds
done in her behalf, and to gratify her cruel vanity. Thereupon her head
was struck off without mercy.

Full of anger at this, Breunor attacked Tristram with all his strength
and fury, and a long and fiery combat took place, yet in the end he fell
dead beneath the sword of the knight of Cornwall.

But, as it happened, the castle lord had a valiant son, named Sir
Galahad the high prince, a knight who in after years was to do deeds of
great emprise. Word was brought to him of the death of his father and
mother, and he rode in all haste to the castle, having with him that
renowned warrior known as the king with the hundred knights.

Reaching the castle, Galahad fiercely challenged Tristram to battle, and
a mighty combat ensued. But at the last Galahad was forced to give way
before the deadly strokes of his antagonist, whose strength seemed to
grow with his labor.

When the king with the hundred knights saw this, he rushed upon Tristram
with many of his followers, attacking him in such force as no single
knight could hope to endure.

"This is no knightly deed," cried Tristram to Galahad. "I deemed you a
noble knight, but it is a shameful act to let all your men set on me at
once."

"However that be," said Galahad, "you have done me a great wrong, and
must yield or die."

"Then I must yield, since you treat me so unfairly. I accepted your
challenge, not that of all your followers. To yield thus puts me to no
dishonor."

And he took his sword by the point and put the pommel in the hand of his
opponent. But despite this action the king and his knights came on, and
made a second attack on the unarmed warrior.

"Let him be," cried Sir Galahad. "I have given him his life, and no man
shall harm him."

"Shame is it in you to say so!" cried the king. "Has he not slain your
father and mother?"

"For that I cannot blame him greatly. My father held him in prison, and
forced him to fight to the death. The custom was a wicked and cruel one,
and could have but one end. Long ago, it drove me from my father's
castle, for I could not favor it by any presence."

"It was a sinful custom, truly," said the king.

"So I deem it, and it would be a pity that this brave knight should die
in such a cause, for I know no one save Lancelot du Lake who is his
equal. Now, fair knight, will you tell me