'In three days I shall come back, if I am not slain in battle with the knight,' said Geraint. And he rode away, a little sorry not to hear the merry sound of the hunter's horn, and a little vexed that he had undertaken this strange adventure. Through valleys and over hills Geraint followed the lady, the knight and the dwarf, till at last, in the evening, he saw them go through the narrow streets of a little town, and reach a white fortress. Into this fortress the lady, the knight and the dwarf disappeared. 'I shall find the knight there to-morrow,' thought Geraint 'Now I must go to an inn for food and a bed,' for he was hungry and tired after his long ride. But all the inns in the little town were full, and every one seemed too busy to take any notice of the stranger. 'Why is there such a bustle in your town this evening?' asked Geraint, first of one person and then of another. But they hurried past him, muttering, 'The Sparrow-hawk has his tournament here to-morrow.' 'The Sparrow-hawk! that is a strange name,' thought Geraint. But he did not know that this was one of the names of the knight he had followed so far. Soon Geraint reached a smithy, and he looked in, and saw that the smith was busy sharpening swords and spears. 'I will go in and buy arms,' thought Geraint. And because the smith saw that the stranger was dressed like a Prince, he stopped his work for a moment to speak to him. 'Arms?' he said, when Geraint told him what he wanted. 'There are no arms to spare, for the Sparrow-hawk holds his tournament here to-morrow.' 'The Sparrow-hawk again!' thought Geraint. 'I wonder who he can be.' Then he turned to the smith again and said, 'Though you cannot give me arms, perhaps you can tell me where to find food and a bed.' 'The old Earl Yniol might give you shelter. He lives in that half-ruined castle across the bridge,' said the smith. And he turned again to his work, muttering, 'Those who work for the Sparrow-hawk have no time to waste in talk.' So Geraint rode wearily on across the bridge and reached the castle. The courtyard was quite empty and looked very dreary, for it was all overgrown with weeds and thistles. At the door of the half-ruined castle stood the old Earl. 'It is growing late. Will you not come in and rest,' said Earl Yniol, 'although the castle be bare, and the fare simple?' And Geraint said he would like to stay there, for he was so hungry that the plainest food would seem a feast. As he entered the castle, he heard some one singing. The song was so beautiful, and the voice was so pure and clear, that Geraint thought it was the sweetest song in all the world, and the old castle seemed less gloomy as he listened. Then Earl Yniol led Geraint into a long low room, and this room was both dining-room and kitchen. The Earl's wife sat there, and she wore a dress that must have been very grand once, but now it was old.