e fatal event
which had just occurred, and that he mourned the untimely death of the
knight who had been so treacherously slain.

"This is a sad story," said the knight. "As I am a true cavalier I will
go with you on your quest, and leave you not while life lasts."

Then he went with Balin to his inn, armed himself, and rode forth with
him. But as they passed by a hermitage near a church-yard the invisible
knight Garlon came again, and smote Balin's companion through the body,
as he had done to Herleus before.

"Alas!" cried the knight. "I too am slain by this invisible traitor, who
does murder at will under cover of enchantment."

"It is not the first despite the wretch has done me," cried Balin.
"Could I see him I would soon repay this outrage. I am bound by the
honor of a knight to a double revenge on this unworthy caitiff."

He and the hermit thereupon buried the slain knight, Perin de
Mountbeliard, under a rich stone in a noble tomb, inscribing thereon the
cause of his death.

In the morning the knight and damsel proceeded on their quest, and in
good time found themselves before a castle, which rose high and broad by
the roadside. Here Balin alighted, and he and the damsel turned towards
the castle, with purpose to enter. But as Balin entered in advance the
portcullis was suddenly let fall behind him, cutting him off from his
companion. Immediately a number of men assailed the damsel with drawn
swords.

When Balin saw this treacherous proceeding his soul burned within him.
What to do at first he knew not. Then he ran hastily into the gate
tower, and leaped, all armed, over the wall into the ditch. Finding
himself unhurt, he drew his sword and rushed furiously upon the armed
men who surrounded his companion.

"Traitors and dogs!" he cried. "If you are eager for fight, I will give
you your fill."

"We cannot fight you," they answered. "We do nothing but keep the old
custom of the castle."

"What is that?" asked Balin. "It is an ill custom, methinks, that thus
displays itself."

"Our lady is sick, and has lain so for many years. Nothing will cure her
but a dish full of blood from a maid and a king's daughter. It is,
therefore, the custom that no damsel shall pass this way without
leaving a silver dish full of blood."

"That is for the damsel to say," replied Balin. "If she chooses to bleed
for the good of your lady she may, but her life shall not be taken while
mine lasts."

The damsel thereupon yiel