So on New Year’s Day, the Knights, according to custom, went to hear service in the Great Church, and after it was over they met in the field to make ready for the tourney. Among them was a brave Knight called Sir Ector, who brought with him Sir Kay, his son, and Arthur, Kay’s foster-brother. Now Kay had unbuckled his sword the evening before, and in his haste to be at the tourney had forgotten to put it on again, and he begged Arthur to ride back and fetch it for him. But when Arthur reached the house the door was locked, for the women had gone out to see the tourney, and, though Arthur tried his best to get in, he could not. Then he rode away in great anger, and said to himself, “Kay shall not be without a sword this day. I will take that sword in the churchyard, and give it to him;” and he galloped fast till he reached the gate of the churchyard. He jumped down, tied his horse tightly to a tree, and, running up to the sword, seized the handle, and lightly and fiercely drew it out; then he mounted his horse again, and delivered the sword to Sir Kay. The moment Sir Kay saw the sword he knew it was not his own, but the sword of the stone, and he sought out his father Sir Ector, and said to him, “Sir, this is the sword of the stone, therefore I am the rightful King.” Sir Ector made no answer, but signed to Kay and Arthur to follow him, and they all three went back to the church. Leaving their horses outside, they entered the choir, and here Sir Ector took a holy book and bade Sir Kay swear how he came by that sword. “My brother Arthur gave it to me,” replied Sir Kay. “How did you come by it?” asked Sir Ector, turning to Arthur. “Sir,” said Arthur, “when I rode home for my brother’s sword, I found no one to deliver it to me, and as I resolved he should not be swordless, I thought of the sword in this stone, and I pulled it out.” “Were any Knights present when you did this?” asked Sir Ector. “No, none,” said Arthur. “Then you are the rightful King of this land,” said Sir Ector. “But why am I the King?” inquired Arthur. “Because,” answered Sir Ector, “this is an enchanted sword, and no man could draw it but he who was born a King. Therefore put the sword back into the stone, and let me see you take it out.” “That is soon done,” said Arthur, replacing the sword, and Sir Ector himself tried to draw it, but he could not. “Now it is your turn,” he said to Sir Kay, but Sir Kay fared no better than his father, though he tugged with all his might and main. “Now you, Arthur,” and Arthur pulled it out as easily as if it had been lying in its sheath, and as he did so Sir Ector and Sir Kay sank on their knees before him. “Why do you, my father and brother, kneel to me?” asked Arthur in surprise. “Nay, nay, my lord,” answered Sir Ector, “I am not your father, though till to-day I could not tell you who your father really was. You are the son of Uther Pendragon, and you were brought to me when you were born by Merlin