and, sore perplexed, he had shown it to Merlin, the great
wizard, who said: "Keep it now. The time for casting away has not
yet come." Thinking on this, it seemed to Bedivere that no good,
but harm, must come of obeying the King's word; so hiding the sword
under a tree, he hastened back to the little chapel. Then said the
King: "What saw'st thou?" "Sir," answered Bedivere, "I saw naught
but the waves, heard naught but the wind." "That is untrue," said
King Arthur; "I charge thee, as thou art true knight, go again and
spare not to throw away the sword."

Sir Bedivere departed a second time, and his mind was to obey his
lord; but when he took the sword in his hand, he thought: "Sin it
is and shameful, to throw away so glorious a sword." Then, hiding
it again, he hastened back to the King, "What saw'st thou?" said
Sir Arthur. "Sir, I saw the water lap on the crags." Then spoke the
King in great wrath: "Traitor and unkind! Twice hast thou betrayed
me! Art dazzled by the splendour of the jewels, thou that, till
now, hast ever been dear and true to me? Go yet again, but if thou
fail me this time, I will arise and, with mine own hands, slay
thee."

Then Sir Bedivere left the King and, that time, he took the sword
quickly from the place where he had hidden it and, forbearing even
to look upon it, he twisted the belt about it and flung it with all
his force into the water. A wondrous sight he saw, for, as the
sword touched the water, a hand rose from out the deep, caught it,
brandished it thrice, and drew it beneath the surface.

Sir Bedivere hastened back to the King and told him what he had
seen. "It is well," said Arthur; "now, bear me to the water's edge;
and hasten, I pray thee, for I have tarried over-long and my wound
has taken cold." So Sir Bedivere raised the King on his back and
bore him tenderly to the lonely shore, where the lapping waves
floated many an empty helmet and the fitful moonlight fell on the
upturned faces of the dead. Scarce had they reached the shore when
there hove in sight a barge, and on its deck stood three tall
women, robed all in black and wearing crowns on their heads. "Place
me in the barge," said the King, and softly Sir Bedivere lifted the
King into it. And these three Queens wept sore over Arthur, and one
took his head in her lap and chafed his hands, crying: "Alas! my
brother, thou hast been over-long in coming and, I fear me, thy
wound has taken cold." Then the barge began to move slow