e, he turned it free and entered the
ship. Lancelot, in surprise, drew near.

"Fair knight," he said, "I know not who you are or why you come. But
since you seek passage on my ship you are welcome."

The other saluted him in turn, and asked,--

"What is your name? I pray you, tell me, for my heart warms strangely
towards you."

"My name is Lancelot du Lake."

"Then are we well met indeed. You are my father."

"Ah! then you are Galahad?"

"Yes, truly," and as he spoke he took off his helm, and kneeled, and
asked his blessing.

Joyful indeed was that meeting, and gladly there father and son
communed, telling each other all that had happened to them since they
left the court. When Galahad saw the dead maiden he knew her well, and
told his father the story of the sword, at which he marvelled greatly.

"Truly, Galahad," he said, "I never heard of aught so strange, and can
well believe you were born for wondrous deeds."

Afterwards for nearly half a year the father and son dwelt together
within that ship, serving God day and night with prayer and praise. Now
they touched on peopled shores, and now on desert islands where only
wild beasts abode, and perilous and strange adventures they met. But
these we shall not tell, since they had naught to do with the Sangreal.

But at length came a Monday morning when the ship touched shore at the
edge of a forest, before a cross, where they saw a knight armed all in
white, and leading a white horse. He saluted them courteously, and
said,--

"Galahad, you have been long enough with your father. You must now leave
the ship, and take this horse, and ride whither destiny shall lead you
in the quest of the Sangreal."

Hearing this command, Galahad kissed his father, and bade him farewell,
saying,--

"Dear father, I know not if we shall ever meet again."

"Then I bid you," said Lancelot, "to pray to the great Father that He
hold me in His service."

There came in answer a mysterious voice that spoke these words,--

"Think each to do well; for you shall never see each other till the
dreadful day of doom."

This voice of destiny affected them greatly, and they bade each other a
tearful farewell, Lancelot begging again the prayers of his son in his
behalf. Then Galahad mounted the white horse and rode into the forest,
while a wind arose which blew the ship from shore, and for a month drove
it up and down the seas.

But at length came a night when it touched shore on the r