er in danger
of death from the spear-wound he had received from Sir Marhaus. For the
spear-head was poisoned, and no leech in the land, with his most healing
remedy, could overcome the deadly effect of that venom. The king sent
far and wide for skilled doctors, but none could be found whose skill
was of any avail. At length there came a learned woman to the court, who
told them plainly that the wounded man could never be cured except in
the country from which the venom came. He might be helped there, but
nowhere else.

When King Mark heard this he had a good vessel prepared, in which
Tristram was placed, under charge of Gouvernail, and so set sail for
Ireland, though all were strictly warned not to tell who they were or
whence they came.

Long before this the fleet of Marhaus had arrived on the Irish coast,
and the wounded knight been borne to the king's court, where all was
done that could be to save his life, but in vain.

He died soon of his deep wound, and when his head was examined by the
surgeons they found therein a piece of Tristram's sword, which had sunk
deep into his skull. This piece the queen, his sister, kept, for she was
full of revengeful thoughts, and she hoped by its aid to find the man to
whom he owed his death.

CHAPTER II.

LA BELLE ISOLDE.

When Tristram arrived in Ireland, chance so provided that he landed near
a castle in which the king and queen, with all their court, then were.
He had brought his harp with him, and on his arrival sat up in his bed
and played a merry lay, which gave joy to all that heard it.

Word was quickly brought to the king that a harper of wonderful skill
had reached his shores, and he at once sent to have him brought to the
castle, where he asked him his name and whence he came.

"My name," replied the wounded knight, "is Tramtrist; I am of the
country of Lyonesse, and the wound from which I suffer was received in a
battle I fought for a lady who had been wronged."

"You shall have all the help here we can give you," said King Anguish.
"I have just met with a sad loss myself, for the best knight in my
kingdom has been slain."

Then he told Tristram of the battle with King Mark's champion, little
dreaming that the knight to whom he spoke knew far more about it than he
did himself.

"As for your wound," said the king, "my daughter, La Belle Isolde, is a
leech of wonderful skill, and as you seem so worthy a man I shall put
you under her care."

This