Now, Sir Galahad was dight
all in harness of silver, clear and shining; the which is a delight
to look upon, but full hasty to tarnish, and withouten the labour of a
ready squire, uneath to be kept fair and clean. And yet withouten squire
or page, Sir Galahad's armour shone like the moon. And he rode a great
white mare, whose bases and other housings were black, but all besprent
with fair lilys of silver sheen. Whereas Sir Percivale bestrode a red
horse, with a tawny mane and tail; whose trappings were all to-smirched
with mud and mire; and his armour was wondrous rosty to behold, ne could
he by any art furbish it again; so that as the sun in his going down
shone twixt the bare trunks of the trees, full upon the knights twain,
the one did seem all shining with light, and the other all to glow with
ruddy fire. Now it came about in this wise. For Sir Percivale, after his
escape from the demon lady, whenas the cross on the handle of his sword
smote him to the heart, and he rove himself through the thigh, and
escaped away, he came to a great wood; and, in nowise cured of his
fault, yet bemoaning the same, the damosel of the alder tree encountered
him, right fair to see; and with her fair words and false countenance
she comforted him and beguiled him, until he followed her where she led
him to a---"

Here a low hurried cry from my hostess caused me to look up from the
book, and I read no more.

"Look there!" she said; "look at his fingers!"

Just as I had been reading in the book, the setting sun was shining
through a cleft in the clouds piled up in the west; and a shadow as of a
large distorted hand, with thick knobs and humps on the fingers, so that
it was much wider across the fingers than across the undivided part
of the hand, passed slowly over the little blind, and then as slowly
returned in the opposite direction.

"He is almost awake, mother; and greedier than usual to-night."

"Hush, child; you need not make him more angry with us than he is; for
you do not know how soon something may happen to oblige us to be in the
forest after nightfall."

"But you are in the forest," said I; "how is it that you are safe here?"

"He dares not come nearer than he is now," she replied; "for any of
those four oaks, at the corners of our cottage, would tear him to
pieces; they are our friends. But he stands there and makes awful faces
at us sometimes, and stretches out his long arms and fingers, and tries
to kill us with fri