. Here they bathed and
washed him, and gave him warm food and gentle care, till his madness
passed away and his wits came back to him. But no one knew him, so much
had he changed, while all deemed Tristram dead, and had no thought of
him.

Word of what had happened came to Isolde where she lay sick, and with a
sudden whim she rose from her bed and bade Bragwaine come with her, as
she had a fancy to see the forest madman.

Asking where he was, she was told that he was in the garden, resting in
an arbor, in a light slumber. Hither they sought him and looked down
upon him, knowing him not.

But as they stood there Tristram woke, and when he saw the queen he
turned away his head, while tears ran from his eyes. It happened that
the queen had with her a little brachet, which Tristram had given her
when she first came to Cornwall, and which always remembered and loved
its old master.

When this little creature came near the sick man, she leaped upon him
and licked his cheeks and hands, and whined about him, showing great joy
and excitement.

"The dog is wiser than us all," cried Dame Bragwaine. "She knows her
master. They spoke falsely who said he was dead. It is Sir Tristram."

But Isolde fell to the ground in a swoon, and lay there long insensible.
When at length she recovered, she said,--

"My dear lord and knight, I thank God deeply that you still live, for
the story of your death had nearly caused mine. Your life is in dread
danger, for when King Mark knows you he will either banish or destroy
you. Therefore I beg you to fly from this court and seek that of King
Arthur where you are beloved. This you may trust, that at all times,
early and late, my love for you will keep fresh in my heart."

"I pray you leave me, Isolde," answered the knight. "It is not well that
you should be seen here. Fear not that I will forget what you have
said."

Then the queen departed, but do what she would the brachet would not
follow her, but kept with the sick knight. Soon afterwards King Mark
visited him, and to his surprise the brachet sat upon the prostrate man
and bayed at the king.

"What does this mean?" he asked.

"I can tell you," answered a knight. "That dog was Sir Tristram's before
it was the queen's. The brachet is wiser than us all. It knows its
master."

"That I cannot believe," said the king. "Tell me your name, my good
man."

"My name is Tristram of Lyonesse," answered the knight. "I am in your
power. Do with