ly from the
land. When Sir Bedivere saw this, he lifted up his voice and cried
with a bitter cry: "Ah! my Lord Arthur, thou art taken from me! And
I, whither shall I go?" "Comfort thyself," said the King, "for in
me is no comfort more. I pass to the Valley of Avilion, to heal me
of my grievous wound. If thou seest me never again, pray for me."

So the barge floated away out of sight, and Sir Bedivere stood
straining his eyes after it till it had vanished utterly. Then he
turned him about and journeyed through the forest until, at
daybreak, he reached a hermitage. Entering it, he prayed the holy
hermit that he might abide with him, and there he spent the rest of
his life in prayer and holy exercise.

But of King Arthur is no more known. Some men, indeed, say that he
is not dead, but abides in the happy Valley of Avilion until such
time as his country's need is sorest, when he shall come again and
deliver it. Others say that, of a truth, he is dead, and that, in
the far West, his tomb may be seen, and written on it these words:

"Here lies Arthur, once King and King to be."

CHAPTER XXXVIII

THE DEATH OF SIR LAUNCELOT AND OF THE QUEEN

When news reached Sir Launcelot in his own land of the treason of
Mordred, he gathered his lords and knights together, and rested not
till he had come to Britain to aid King Arthur. He landed at Dover,
and there the evil tidings were told him, how the King had met his
death at the hands of his traitor nephew. Then was Sir Launcelot's
heart nigh broken for grief. "Alas!" he cried, "that I should live
to know my King overthrown by such a felon! What have I done that I
should have caused the deaths of the good knights, Sir Gareth, Sir
Gaheris, and Sir Gawain, and yet that such a villain should escape
my sword!" Then he desired to be led to Sir Gawain's tomb where he
remained long in prayer and in great lamentation; after which he
called to him his kinsmen and friends, and said to them: "My fair
lords, I thank you all most heartily that, of your courtesy, ye
came with me to this land. That we be come too late is a misfortune
that might not be avoided, though I shall mourn it my life long.
And now I will ride forth alone to find my lady the Queen in the
West, whither men say she has fled. Wait for me, I pray you, for
fifteen days, and then, if ye hear naught of me, return to your own
lands." So Sir Launcelot rode forth alone, nor would he suffer any
to follow him, despite th