in no wise win her favour at that time, he made a vow that never would he speak to Christian man or woman until he had gained her love, and forthwith rode away again.  After long journeyings, he came one night to a castle, and, knocking, gained admittance and courteous reception from the lady who owned it.  But it seemed to Sir Peredur that there hung over all a gloom, none caring to talk or make merry, though there was no lack of the consideration due to a guest.  Then when the evening hour was come, they took their places at the board, Peredur being set at the Countess’ right hand; and two nuns entered and placed before the lady a flagon of wine and six white loaves, and that was all the fare.  Then the Countess gave largely of the food to Sir Peredur, keeping little for herself and her attendants; but this pleased not the knight, who, heedless of his oath, said:  “Lady, permit me to fare as do the others,” and he took but a small portion of that which she had given him.  Then the Countess, blushing as with shame, said to him:  “Sir Knight, if we make you poor cheer, far otherwise is our desire, but we are in sore straits.”  “Madam,” answered Peredur courteously, “for your welcome I thank you heartily; and, I pray you, if there is aught in which a knight may serve you, tell me your trouble.”  Then the Countess told him how she had been her father’s one child, and heir to his broad lands; and how a neighbouring baron had sought her hand; but she, misliking him, had refused his suit, so that his wrath was great.  Then, when her father died, he had made war upon her, overrunning all her lands till nothing was left to her but the one castle.  Long since, all the provision stored therein was consumed, and she must have yielded her to the oppressor but for the charity of the nuns of a neighbouring monastery, who had secretly supplied her with food when, for fear, her vassals had forsaken her.  But that day the nuns had told her that no longer could they aid her, and there was naught left save to submit to the invader.  This was the story that, with many tears, the Countess related to Peredur.  “Lady,” said he, “with your permission, I will take upon me your quarrel, and to-morrow I will seek to encounter this felon.”  The Countess thanked him heartily and they retired to rest for that night.

In the morning betimes, Sir Peredur arose, donned his armour and, seeking the Countess, desired that the portcullis might be raised, for he would sally forth to seek her oppressor.  So he rode out from the castle and saw in the morning light a plain covered with the tents of a great host.  With him he took a herald to proclaim that he was ready to meet any in fair fight, in the Countess’ quarrel.  Forthwith, in answer to his challenge, there rode forward the baron himself, a proud and stately knight mounted on a great black horse.  The two rushed together, and, at the first encounter, Sir Peredur unhorsed his opponent, bearing him over the crupper with such