"Strange monk," and a dull red mantled the knight's cheeks, "those are
bold words you speak. None but Launcelot himself can tell the things
he may or may not do. And since I am not in search of father
confessor, nor since I sought not this meeting, I pray thee offer not
your counsel nor advice."

"The truth, then, sears, sir knight!" Now the monk's eyes flashed.
Straight and tall he stood and his lean figure held so much of that
which was not earthly, that even the mighty Launcelot was daunted.

"Who then has more right or reason to tell you of these things. It is
I who first picked you, long since, as likely finder of the Holy
Grail. And when I found you slipping ever so little, and well you know
wherein you have failed me, I sent Merlin to all of you. For since he
on whom I had built my faith could not measure to the test I had
strong need to find someone else.

"For Britain must hold the Grail. Somewhere in it, there must be the
man who measures up to the test, high though it be."

"Son, son, the things you could have done. The fineness of you,
coarsened by the temptations you have met and not overcome. The joy
you have found in things that are sordid and count for so little."

Low hung the knight's head, His anger had left him now. In its stead
was a deep humility.

"Father, you bare my soul. And yet have I striven. High did I hold
the ideals which first inspired me, I have overcome much, have tried