On hearing this the knight released the maiden as bidden, but drew his sword, as he had no spear, and rode fiercely at the rescuer. Bors met him with couched spear, and struck him so hard a blow as to pierce his shield and his hauberk on the left shoulder, beating him down to the earth. On pulling out the spear the wounded knight swooned. "You are delivered from this felon. Can I help you further?" said Bors to the maiden. "I beg you to take me to the place whence he carried me away." "That shall I do as my duty." Then he seated her on the knight's horse, and conducted her back towards her home. "You have done nobly, sir knight," she said. "If you had not rescued me, five hundred men might have died for this. The knight you wounded is my cousin, who yesterday stole me away from my father's house, no one mistrusting him. But if you had not overcome him, there would soon have been others on his track." Even as she spoke there came a troop of twelve knights riding briskly forward in search of her. When they found her delivered their joy was great, and they thanked Bors profusely, begging him to accompany them to her father, who was a great lord, and would welcome him with gladness. "That I cannot do," said Bors, "much as I should like to; for I have another matter of high importance before me. I can but say, then, farewell, and God be with you and this fair maiden." So saying, he turned and rode briskly away, followed by their earnest thanks. Reaching the point where he had seen Lionel in custody, he took the trail of the horses, and followed them far by their hoof-marks in the road. Then he overtook a religious man, who was mounted on a strong horse, blacker than a berry. "Sir knight," he asked, "what seek you?" "I seek my brother," he replied, "who came this way beaten by two knights." "Then seek no further, but be strong of heart, for I have sad tidings for you. Your brother is dead." He then led Bors to a clump of bushes, in which lay a newly slain body, which seemed to be that of Lionel. Seeing this, Bors broke into such grief that he fell to the earth in a swoon, and long lay there. When he recovered he said, sadly,-- "Dear brother, I would have rescued you had not a higher duty called me. But since we are thus parted, joy shall never again enter my desolate heart. I can now but say, be He whom I have taken for my master my help and comfort." Thus grieving, he took up the body in his arms, and put it upon his saddle-bow. Then he said to his companion,-- "Can you tell me of some chapel, where I may bury this body?" "Come with me. There is one near by." [Illustration: AN OLD AND HALF-RUINED CHAPEL.] They rode forward till they came in sight of a tower, beside which was an old and half-ruined chapel. Here they alighted, and placed the corpse in a tomb of marble. "We will leave him here," said the good man, "and seek shelter for the night. To-morrow we will return and perform the services for the dead."