So Geraint rode forth on his quest, and followed the road to the ford of the Usk, where he crossed, and then went on his way until he came to a town, at the further end of which rose a mighty castle.  And as he entered the town, he saw the knight and the lady, and how, as they rode through the streets, from every window the folk craned their necks to see them pass, until they entered the castle and the gate fell behind them.  Then was Geraint satisfied that they would not pass thence that night, and turned him about to see where he could obtain the use of arms that, the next day, he might call the knight to account.

Now it seemed that the whole town was in a ferment.  In every house, men were busy polishing shields, sharpening swords, and washing armour, and scarce could they find time to answer questions put to them; so at the last, finding nowhere in the town to rest, Geraint rode in the direction of a ruined palace, which stood a little apart from the town, and was reached by a marble bridge spanning a deep ravine.  Seated on the bridge was an old man, hoary-headed, and clothed in the tattered remains of what had once been splendid attire, who gave Geraint courteous greeting.  “Sir,” said Geraint, “I pray you, know ye where I may find shelter for this night?” “Come with me,” said the old man, “and ye shall have the best my old halls afford.”  So saying, he led Geraint into a great stone-paved court-yard, surrounded by buildings, once strong fortifications, but then half burned and ruinous.  There he bade Geraint dismount, and led the way into an upper chamber, where sat an aged dame, and with her a maiden the fairest that ever Geraint had looked upon, for all that her attire was but a faded robe and veil.  Then the old man spoke to the maiden, saying:  “Enid, take the good knight’s charger to a stall and give him corn.  Then go to the town and buy us provision for a feast to-night.”  Now it pleased not Geraint that the maiden should thus do him service; but when he made to accompany her, the old man, her father, stayed him and kept him in converse until presently she was returned from the town and had made all ready for the evening meal.  Then they sat them down to supper, the old man and his wife with Geraint between them; and the fair maid, Enid, waited upon them, though it irked the Prince to see her do such menial service.

So as they ate, they talked, and presently Geraint asked of the cause why the palace was all in ruins.  “Sir knight,” said the old man, “I am Yniol, and once I was lord of a broad earldom.  But my nephew, whose guardian I had been, made war upon me, affirming that I had withheld from him his dues; and being the stronger, he prevailed, and seized my lands and burnt my halls, even as ye see.  For the townsfolk hold with him, because that, with his tournaments and feastings, he brings many strangers their way.”  “What then is all the stir in the town even now?” asked Geraint.  “To-morrow,” said the Earl, “they