rose, being of stout heart, and seeing Beltenebros about to strike him, bent from the blow, and reeled and fell upon the truncheon, and drove it clean through his back, so that he died instantly. Arcalaus was riding up to help him. Beltenebros galloped up to him and made him lose the joust, and struck at him with his sword a blow that cut off the lance, and with it half the hand, so that only his thumb was left. He turned to fly, and threw away his shield, and by the fleetness of his horse escaped. Beltenebros then bade Enil take the shield and hand of Arcalaus, and the head of Lindoraque to the King, and tell him what had happened. He and his Lady went on their way, and rested beside a fountain till it was near night, then rode to Miraflores. The Squires were ready, and Mabilia and the Damsel joyfully received them, for if there had been delay they only expected death. Fair prizes have you won, quoth Mabilia, but they have cost us a great alarm and many tears. As Lisuarte and Galaor were returning to the town, a Damsel came up and gave them each a letter, and rode away. The King read his thus: To thee Lisuarte, King of Great Britain, I Urganda, the Unknown, send salutation, and I tell thee that in the perilous and cruel battle between thee and King Cildadan, Beltenebros, in whom you confide, shall lose his name and his renown, and for one blow that he shall give all his great deeds shall be quite forgotten. In that hour thou shalt be in the greatest extremity, and in all danger of death, when the sharp sword of Beltenebros shall shed thy blood. Cruel and dolorous will the battle be; there will be great rage and cruelty, and no compassion. But at last by three blows from the hand of Beltenebros his party shall remain conquerors. Look to it King, for she who sends thee this warning knows what is to come! Brave as the King's heart was, this letter dismayed him; he believed that Beltenebros was to lose his life, and that his own would be in the utmost danger; howbeit he put on a good countenance, and gave the letter to Galaor, and asked his counsel. Sir, quoth Galaor, I stand in need of your counsel myself; but if this battle can honourably be avoided, I should advise that it be done so; if that cannot be, you should not be in the field; by the sword of Beltenebros your blood is to be shed, and by three blows from his hand his party are to remain conquerors. This I do not understand, for he is to be on your side; and yet the letter says otherwise. Friend, quoth the King, your love for me makes you advise me ill. I must not, for the knowledge of any one, how wise soever, distrust the power of him who ordaineth all things. My good friend, I will be in the battle, and take what fortune it please God to give. The King's answer roused Galaor; rightly are you esteemed the best King in the world! quoth he, and he then shewed him his own letter.