ried Lionel, and he struck the
hermit a blow with his sword that stretched him dead on the ground.

Then, with unquenched anger, he tore loose the lacings of his brother's
helmet, and would have killed him on the spot but for a fortunate
chance.

As it happened, Colgrevance, a fellow of the Round Table, rode up at
that moment, and wondered when he saw the hermit dead, and Lionel about
to slay his brother, whom he greatly loved.

Leaping hastily to the ground, he caught the furious knight by the
shoulders and drew him strongly backward.

"What would you do?" he cried. "Madman, would you kill your brother, the
worthiest knight of our brotherhood? And are you so lost to honor as to
slay any knight thus lying insensible?"

"Will you hinder me?" asked Lionel, turning in rage. "Back, sirrah, or I
shall slay you first and him afterwards."

"Why seek you to slay him?"

"He has richly deserved it, and die he shall, whoever says the
contrary."

Then he ran upon Bors and raised his sword to strike him on the head.
But Colgrevance pushed between them and thrust him fiercely backward.

"Off, you murderer!" he cried. "If you are so hot for blood you must
have mine first."

"Who are you?" demanded Lionel.

"I am Colgrevance, one of your fellows. Round Table Knights should be
brothers, not foes, but I would challenge King Arthur himself in this
quarrel."

"Defend yourself, meddler," cried Lionel, rushing upon him and striking
him fiercely on the helm with his sword.

"That shall I," rejoined Colgrevance, attacking him in turn.

Then a hot battle began, for Colgrevance was a good knight, and defended
himself manfully.

While the fight went on Bors recovered his senses, and saw with a sad
heart Colgrevance defending him against his brother. He strove to rise
and part them, but his hurts were such that he could not stand on his
feet. And thus he sat watching the combat till he saw that Colgrevance
had the worst, for Lionel had wounded him sorely, and he had lost so
much blood that he could barely stand.

At this juncture he saw Bors, who sat watching them in deep anguish.

"Bors," he cried, "I am fighting to succor you. Will you sit there and
see me perish?"

"You both shall die," cried Lionel, furiously. "You shall pay the
penalty of your meddling, and he of his treason."

Hearing this, Bors rose with aching limbs, and painfully put on his
helm. Colgrevance again called to him in anguish,--

"Help me, Bors! I c