he had slain the King’s cousin. He was of high birth and his name was Balin, and after he had suffered eighteen months the punishment of his misdeed the Barons prayed the King to set him free, which Arthur did willingly. When Balin, standing apart beheld the Knights one by one try the sword, and fail to draw it, his heart beat fast, yet he shrank from taking his turn, for he was meanly dressed, and could not compare with the other Barons. But after the damsel had bid farewell to Arthur and his Court, and was setting out on her journey homewards, he called to her and said, “Damsel, I pray you to suffer me to try your sword, as well as these lords, for though I am so poorly clothed, my heart is as high as theirs.” The damsel stopped and looked at him, and answered, “Sir, it is not needful to put you to such trouble, for where so many have failed it is hardly likely that you will succeed.” “Ah! fair damsel,” said Balin, “it is not fine clothes that make good deeds.” “You speak truly,” replied the damsel, “therefore do what you can.” Then Balin took the sword by the girdle and sheath, and pulled it out easily, and when he looked at the sword he was greatly pleased with it. The King and the Knights were dumb with surprise that it was Balin who had triumphed over them, and many of them envied him and felt anger towards him. “In truth,” said the damsel, “this is the best Knight that I ever found, but, Sir, I pray you give me the sword again.”

“No,” answered Balin, “I will keep it till it is taken from me by force.” “It is for your sake, not mine, that I ask for it,” said the damsel, “for with that sword you shall slay the man you love best, and it will bring about your own ruin.” “I will take what befalls me,” replied Balin, “but the sword I will not give up, by the faith of my body.” So the damsel departed in great sorrow. The next day Sir Balin left the Court, and, armed with his sword, set forth in search of adventures, which he found in many places where he had not thought to meet with them. In all the fights that he fought, Sir Balin was the victor, and Arthur, and Merlin his friend, knew that there was no Knight living of greater deeds, or more worthy of worship. And he was known to all as Sir Balin le Savage, the Knight of the two swords.

One day he was riding forth when at the turning of a road he saw a cross, and on it was written in letters of gold, “Let no Knight ride towards this castle.” Sir Balin was still reading the writing when there came towards him an old man with white hair, who said, “Sir Balin le Savage, this is not the way for you, so turn again and choose some other path.” And so he vanished, and a horn blew loudly, as a horn is blown at the death of a beast. “That blast,” said Balin, “is for me, but I am still alive,” and he rode to the castle, where a great company of knights and ladies met him and welcomed him, and made him a feast. Then the lady of the castle said to him, “Knight with the two swords, you must now fight a Knight that guards an island, for it is our law that no man may leave us without he first fight a tourney.”

“That is a bad custom,” said Balin, “but if I must I am ready; for though my horse is weary my heart is strong.”

“Sir,” said a Knight to him, “your shield does not look whole to me; I will lend you another;” so Balin listened to him and took the shield that was offered, and left his own with his own coat of arms behind him. He rode down to the shore, and led his horse into a boat which took them across. When he reached the other side, a damsel came to him crying, “O knight Balin, why have you left your own shield behind you? Alas! you have put yourself in great danger, for by your shield you should have been known. I grieve over your doom, for there is no man living that can rival you for courage and bold deeds.”

“I repent,” answered Balin, “ever having come into this country, but for very shame I must go on. Whatever befalls me, either for life or death, I am ready to take it.” Then he examined his armour, and saw that it was whole, and mounted his horse.

As he went along the path he beheld a Knight come out of a castle in front, clothed in red, riding a horse with red trappings. When this red Knight looked on the two swords, he thought for a moment it was Balin, but the shield did not bear Balin’s device. So they rode at each other with their spears, and smote each other’s shields so hard that both horses and men fell to the ground with the shock, and the Knights lay unconscious on the ground for some minutes. But soon they rose up again and began the fight afresh, and they fought till the place was red with their blood, and they had each seven great wounds. “What Knight are you?” asked Balin le Savage, pausing for breath, “for never before have I found any Knight to match me.” “My name,” said he, “is Balan, brother to the good Knight Balin.”

“Alas!” cried Balin, “that I should ever live to see this day,” and he fell back fainting to the ground. At this sight Balan crept on his feet and hands, and pulled off Balin’s helmet, so that he might see his face. The fresh air revived Balin, and he awoke and said: “O Balan, my brother, you have slain me, and I you, and the whole world will speak ill of us both.”

“Alas,” sighed Balan, “if I had only known you! I saw your two swords, but from your shield I thought you had been another knight.”

“Woe is me!” said Balin, “all this was wrought by an unhappy knight in the castle, who caused me to change my shield for his. If I lived, I would destroy that castle that he should not deceive other men.”

“You would have done well,” answered Balan, “for they have kept me prisoner ever since I slew a Knight that guarded this island, and they would have kept you captive too.” Then came the lady of the castle and her companions, and listened as they made their moan. And Balan prayed that she would grant them the grace to lie together, there where they died, and their wish was given them, and she and those that were with her wept for pity.

So they died; and the lady made a tomb for them, and put Balan’s name alone on it, for Balin’s name she knew not. But Merlin knew, and next morning he came and wrote it in letters of gold, and he ungirded Balin’s sword, and unscrewed the pommel, and put another pommel on it, and bade a Knight that stood by handle it, but the Knight could not. At that Merlin laughed.

“Why do you laugh?” asked the Knight. “Because,” said Merlin, “no man shall handle this sword but the best Knight in the world, and that is either Sir Lancelot or his son Sir Galahad. With this sword Sir Lancelot shall slay the man he loves best, and his name is Sir Gawaine.” And this was later done, in a fight across the seas.

All this Merlin wrote on the pommel of the sword. Next he made a bridge of steel to the island, six inches broad, and no man could pass over it that was guilty of any evil deeds. The scabbard of the sword he left on this side of the island, so that Galahad should find it. The sword itself he put in a magic stone, which floated down the stream to Camelot, that is now called Winchester. And the same day Galahad came to the river, having in his hand the scabbard, and