And therewith he took his harness and went out at a
window by a sheet down to the four knights, and then Sir Launcelot
said on high, Turn you knights unto me, and leave your fighting
with that knight. And then they all three left Sir Kay, and turned
unto Sir Launcelot, and there began great battle, for they alight
all three, and strake many strokes at Sir Launcelot, and assailed
him on every side. Then Sir Kay dressed him for to have holpen Sir
Launcelot. Nay, sir, said he, I will none of your help, therefore
as ye will have my help let me alone with them. Sir Kay for the
pleasure of the knight suffered him for to do his will, and so
stood aside. And then anon within six strokes Sir Launcelot had
stricken them to the earth.
And then they all three cried, Sir Knight, we yield us unto
you as man of might matchless. As to that, said Sir Launcelot, I
will not take your yielding unto me, but so that ye yield you unto
Sir Kay the seneschal, on that covenant I will save your lives and
else not. Fair knight, said they, that were we loath to do; for as
for Sir Kay we chased him hither, and had overcome him had ye not
been; therefore, to yield us unto him it were no reason. Well, as
to that, said Sir Launcelot, advise you well, for ye may choose
whether ye will die or live, for an ye be yielden, it shall be unto
Sir Kay. Fair knight, then they said, in saving our lives we will
do as thou commandest us. Then shall ye, said Sir Launcelot, on
Whitsunday next coming go unto the court of King Arthur, and there
shall ye yield you unto Queen Guenever, and put you all three in
her grace and mercy, and say that Sir Kay sent you thither to be
her prisoners. On the morn Sir Launcelot arose early, and left Sir
Kay sleeping; and Sir Launcelot took Sir Kay's armor and his shield
and armed him, and so he went to the stable and took his horse, and
took his leave of his host, and so he departed. Then soon after
arose Sir Kay and missed Sir Launcelot; and then he espied that he
had his armor and his horse. Now by my faith I know well that he
will grieve some of the court of King Arthur; for on him knights
will be bold, and deem that it is I, and that will beguile them;
and because of his armor and shield I am sure I shall ride in
peace. And then soon after departed Sir Kay, and thanked his
host.
As I laid the book down there was a knock at the door, and my
stranger came in. I gave him a pipe and a chair, and made him
welcome. I also comforted him with a hot Scotch whisky; gave him
another one; then still another—hoping always for his story. After
a fourth persuader, he drifted into it himself, in a quite simple
and natural way:
THE STRANGER'S HISTORY
I am an American. I was born and reared in Hartford, in the
State of Connecticut—anyway, just over the river, in the country.
So I am a Yankee of the Yankees—and practical; yes, and nearly
barren of sentiment, I suppose—or poetry, in other words. My father
was a blacksmith, my uncle was a horse doctor, and I was both,
along at first. Then I went over to the great arms factory and
learned my real trade; learned all there was to it; learned to make
everything: guns, revolvers, cannon, boilers, engines, all sorts of
labor-saving machinery. Why, I could make anything a body
wanted—anything in the world, it didn't make any difference what;
and if there wasn't any quick new-fangled way to make a thing, I
could invent one—and do it as easy as rolling off a log. I became
head superintendent; had a couple of thousand men under me.
Well, a man like that is a man that is full of fight—that goes
without saying. With a couple of thousand rough men under one, one
has plenty of that sort of amusement. I had, anyway. At last I met
my match, and I got my dose. It was during a misunderstanding
conducted with crowbars with a fellow we used to call Hercules. He
laid me out with a crusher alongside the head that made everything
crack, and seemed to spring every joint in my skull and made it
overlap its neighbor. Then the world went out in darkness, and I
didn't feel anything more, and didn't know anything at all —at
least for a while.
When I came to again, I was sitting under an oak tree, on the
grass, with a whole beautiful and broad country landscape all to
myself—nearly. Not entirely; for there was a fellow on a horse,
looking down at me—a fellow fresh out of a picture-book.
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