Gilbert, and sorely they wounded each other; and a wise woman, a
sorceress, has said that nothing may stanch my brother's wounds unless
they be searched with the sword and bound up with a piece of the cloth
from the body of the wounded knight who lies in the ruined chapel hard
by. And well I know you, my lord Sir Launcelot, and that, if ye will
not help me, none may." "Tell me your brother's name," said Sir
Launcelot. "Sir Meliot de Logris," replied the damsel. "A Knight of
our Round Table," said Sir Launcelot; "the more am I bound to your
service. Only tell me, gentle damsel, where I may find this Chapel
Perilous." So she directed him, and, riding through forest byways, Sir
Launcelot came presently upon a little ruined chapel, standing in the
midst of a churchyard, where the tombs showed broken and neglected
under the dark yews. In front of the porch, Sir Launcelot paused and
looked, for thereon hung, upside down, dishonored, the shield of many
a good knight whom Sir Launcelot had known.

As he stood wondering, suddenly there pressed upon him from all sides
thirty stout knights, all giants and fully armed, their drawn swords
in their hands and their shields advanced. With threatening looks,
they spoke to him, saying, "Sir Launcelot, it were well ye turned back
before evil befell you." But Sir Launcelot, though he feared to have
to do with thirty such warriors, answered boldly, "I turn not back for
high words. Make them good by your deeds." Then he rode upon them
fiercely, whereupon instantly they scattered and disappeared, and,
sword in hand, Sir Launcelot entered the little chapel. All was dark
within, save that a little lamp hung from the roof, and by its dim
light he could just espy how on a bier before the altar there lay,
stark and cold, a knight sheathed in armor. And drawing nearer Sir
Launcelot saw that the dead man lay on a blood-stained mantle, his
naked sword by his side, but that his left hand had been lopped off at