to keep to the high set purpose. Yet I am but common clay, after all."

"Nay, nay son. I would all men held half thy nobility. Only," and now
the monk's tone was again kindly, "there are some we weigh on much
finer scales than others. We ask more of them, seek more from them.
Forgive less, too. Perhaps we are wrong to desire so much from any
mortal soul. Yet have we faith,--we believe."

"I find no complaint, holy father, in the measure you have set for me.
For I saw the things, I had the vision to see them. Saw too, the
things that were wrong even as I did these things."

"Yet, my son, a great task shall be yours. Now of the boy Allan." The
monk paused.

"What of him, father? A fine lad is he. So young, yet is he too, to be
burdened with great responsibilities? I pray thee, let him keep his
youth."

"Launcelot, my son, when will you grow to thy true self? For there
lies your failure. You who took your responsibilities as burdens, when
you should have found great joy in that they were yours. Yet, now
listen to me as to this boy Allan. I have seen him this day, have
spoken to him of the Holy Grail. A dreaming youth, yet is he fired by
fine inspiration and great ideals. He is ordained to seek it. That
holds no strangeness for there are many such. As to whether he finds
it or not is dependent upon him, as it was once upon yourself. And
since you cannot find it, seek it as you will, I charge you with
helping him keep clean souled. Should he do so, ere many years will
pass, he may find it. For you, there will be the joy, the glory of