In the Court of King Arthur
Page 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Stranger and Sir Launcelot
Let us then turn to Sir Launcelot now making his way along the roadover which Allan had been seen to depart. Though the knight haddenied that he purposed to seek the lad, yet had his horse taken thatway. A growing fondness for the boy which he had not made too obvious,for it was not his wont to show too easily his feelings. Display orshow of emotion ever embarrassed him. He had noted the long absence ofAllan and so had mounted his horse intent to all appearance on a shortcanter.
Half way to where Allan had made his couch, the road over which he hadridden branched right and left and some miles down came togetheragain. Now when Allan returned he took the road to his right havingridden the other way earlier in the day. Sir Launcelot made for theroad to the right of him and so missed the boy returning.
He found himself at the place at which the boy had slept. Hedismounted to observe more closely. Then he beheld the holy man as hestepped from the shadows.
"Good day to you, holy father," the knight greeted him.
"God's blessing stay with thee, son. I have been expecting thee."
"Nay, father, not me. Other knight, mayhap. For I knew not myself Iwould be here."
"Yet did I know, Sir Launcelot. You came here to seek the youth Allanand knew not that you came in obedience to greater will than your own.And having come, you must, prithee, listen to the things that must betold you."
"Launcelot," and the monk spoke sternly and yet with great sadness,"as measured by men thou art the bravest knight in Christendom.Chivalrous, strong, yet gentle and ever ready to succor the weak anddistressed. Your name shall be emblazoned as symbolic of chivalry."The strange man paused for a time.
"I speak now of the Holy Grail," he resumed. "Who would be betterfitted to seek and find the Holy Grail? Are there any who hold greaterdesire to find the same? And who seeks to make himself more worthy?"
"And yet, though you seek until Judgment Day you will never find it.In the innermost soul of you, you know it to be so. The pity of it."
"Strange monk," and a dull red mantled the knight's cheeks, "those arebold words you speak. None but Launcelot himself can tell the thingshe may or may not do. And since I am not in search of fatherconfessor, nor since I sought not this meeting, I pray thee offer notyour counsel nor advice."
"The truth, then, sears, sir knight!" Now the monk's eyes flashed.Straight and tall he stood and his lean figure held so much of thatwhich was not earthly, that even the mighty Launcelot was daunted.
"Who then has more right or reason to tell you of these things. It isI who first picked you, long since, as likely finder of the HolyGrail. And when I found you slipping ever so little, and well you knowwherein you have failed me, I sent Merlin to all of you. For since heon whom I had built my faith could not measure to the test I hadstrong need to find someone else.
"For Britain must hold the Grail. Somewhere in it, there must be theman who measures up to the test, high though it be."
"Son, son, the things you could have done. The fineness of you,coarsened by the temptations you have met and not overcome. The joyyou have found in things that are sordid and count for so little."
Low hung the knight's head, His anger had left him now. In its steadwas a deep humility.
"Father, you bare my soul. And yet have I striven. High did I holdthe ideals which first inspired me, I have overcome much, have triedto keep to the high set purpose. Yet I am but common clay, after all."
"Nay, nay son. I would all men held half thy nobility. Only," and nowthe monk's tone was again kindly, "there are some we weigh on muchfiner scales than others. We ask more of them, seek more from them.Forgive less, too. Perhaps we are wrong to desire so much from anymortal soul. Yet have we faith,--we believe."
"I find no complaint, holy father, in the measure you have set for me.For I saw the things, I had the vision to see them. Saw too, thethings that were wrong even as I did these things."
"Yet, my son, a great task shall be yours. Now of the boy Allan." Themonk paused.
"What of him, father? A fine lad is he. So young, yet is he too, to beburdened with great responsibilities? I pray thee, let him keep hisyouth."
"Launcelot, my son, when will you grow to thy true self? For therelies your failure. You who took your responsibilities as burdens, whenyou should have found great joy in that they were yours. Yet, nowlisten to me as to this boy Allan. I have seen him this day, havespoken to him of the Holy Grail. A dreaming youth, yet is he fired byfine inspiration and great ideals. He is ordained to seek it. Thatholds no strangeness for there are many such. As to whether he findsit or not is dependent upon him, as it was once upon yourself. Andsince you cannot find it, seek it as you will, I charge you withhelping him keep clean souled. Should he do so, ere many years willpass, he may find it. For you, there will be the joy, the glory ofservice, of having helped. Without your help, success for him will beso much less likely. Will you help him Launcelot? Think well beforeyou make reply."
Not at once did Sir Launcelot answer. Yet it was the best within himthat did give final utterance.
"I promise you father, that such help as I can give the lad I shall.Much have I learned. And with these things that I have learned heshall be guided. No bitterness mine. Since I am not to be the finderof the Holy Grail, I pledge you now my aid to Allan."
"Launcelot, so little fails you for that needed greatness. None haveI loved so much. If you have sinned you have been great and gloriouseven in the sinning.
"Never have you been finer than now. Allan will need your help, yourstrength. There shall be a maid too, to help him. The threads havealso been woven for that now. When the time shall come, you will callthis lad Galahad, the Chaste. Treat him ever as your son, Launcelot."
"Son and comrade, too, he shall be for me. Father, I thank you."
"So then I go, son. I could not love you more were you less a mortalsinner."