And so in turn came the second stranger before King Arthur. Poorly clothed, too, yet had his coat once been rich cloth of gold. Now it sat most crookedly upon him and was cut in many places so that it but barely hung upon his shoulders. "Sire," said the stranger, "you are known everywhere as the noblest King in the world. And for that reason I come to you to be made knight." "Knights, good friend," replied the King, "are not so easily made. Such knights as we do appoint must first prove their worth. We know thee not, stranger, and know not the meaning of thy strange garb. For truly, thou art a strange sight." "I am Breunor le Noire and soon you will know that I am of good kin. This coat I wear is token of vow made for vengeance. So, I found it on my slain father and I seek his slayer. This day, oh King, I go forth content, if you make promise that should I perform knightly deed you will dub me knight of yours." "Go thou forth, then. We doubt not that thou wilt prove thy true valor and be worthy of knighthood. Yet proof must be there." On this selfsame day, Breunor le Noire departed. Next morn, the King together with Sir Launcelot, Sir Percival, Sir Gawaine, Sir Pellimore, Sir Gilbert, Sir Neil and Sir Dagonet, indeed a right goodly party, prepared to depart. Nor did they purpose to return until they met with Sir Tristram, for King Arthur was of great desire to have this good knight as one of the Round Table. Now as these, the flower of King Arthur's court, were waiting for Sir Dagonet who was to be with them and who had delayed, Sir Launcelot saw Allan the boy watching them from the side. Saw too, the great wish in the lad's eyes. Nor did Allan see himself observed for Sir Launcelot was not then with the others. A thought came to this fine spirited knight and it brought great and smiling good humor to his lips. He rode to Sir Percival's side and the two whispered for many moments. Then did the two speak to the King and he laughed, but did not turn to gaze at the boy. Sir Gawaine now joined in the whispering. Then did all four laugh with great merriment. So Sir Pellimore and the other knights inquired the cause for the merriment and, being told, laughed too. Kindly was the laughter, strong men these who could yet be gentle. Sir Launcelot now turned and rode hard at the boy. "And wherefore, lad," and dark was his frown and greatly wroth he seemed, "do you stand here watching? Rude staring yours and no fit homage to pay your betters. Perchance, we may all be displeased, the King, Sir Percival, and all of us." Now the lad's eyes clouded. To have displeased these knights, the greatest men in all the world, for so he thought them. Then and there he wished he could die. Woe had the knight's words brought to him. "Indeed, and I meant no disrespect, Sir Launcelot. Indeed--" and said no more for he knew he would weep if he spoke further. So he saw not the dancing laughter in the knight's eye, nor the wide grins on the faces of the others.