any
crime.

Her ladies dressed her in her meanest garments; a priest, her
confessor, was brought to her, and she was shriven of her sins. Then
arose a weeping and a wailing and a wringing of hands among the lords
and ladies.

Between the knights and the men-at-arms she was led through the streets
to the lists beyond the wall. Lamentation, cries of horror, and the
shrieks and sighs of women arose from the multitude which lined each
side of the narrow streets. Many were the prayers that rose from white
lips, praying God to send a miracle to rescue so sweet a lady from so
dreadful a doom.

The city apprentices, with stout sticks in their hands, stood in bands,
and in their stout young hearts was a great rage. It was in their minds
to dash upon the guard of armoured knights, to attempt a rescue, but
they knew how vain their sticks would be against the keen blades of
swords.

So stricken with horror were all those that looked on that they noticed
not how, when the queen and her guard issued from the gates of the
palace, a man in the coarse dress of a peasant, who was standing in the
crowd, strode swiftly away down a narrow lane. There he vaulted, with
an unpeasant-like deftness, upon a good steed that stood in the charge
of a young lad; and striking spurs in the horse's flanks, he dashed
away madly along the streets and through the northern gate into the
fields.

Amidst the sorrowing people, with women crying and men muttering and
looking darkly at the knights about her, the queen was led to the
tilting-ground beyond the northern wall, and in the midst thereof was a
stake. To this she was fastened with a rope, and faggots of wood were
piled about her feet up to her knees. Near her stood the priest of her
household, trying to cheer her with comforting words; but the queen,
pale and without tears, seemed to be dazed and as if she did not hear
him.

A hundred knights ranged themselves behind the queen, some on
horseback, but the most on foot. Many of them had followed the example
of Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth and stood without arms; but Sir Mador was
on his horse, fully armed, and prepared for combat. Others of his
kindred rode beside him.

Then Sir Gaheris called upon the herald to proclaim what the king had
commanded.

'In the name of the king,' cried the herald, 'the queen hath been found
guilty of the death of a knight by treason and poison, and his kinsmen
have demanded due judgment upon her. But if any knigh