“Boo-hoo-hoo-hoo!” It sounded something like the howling of a dog; but as they listened, it grew louder and louder, until it sounded like the roaring of a lion.

The knights seized their swords and rushed down to see what was the matter; and there, in the middle of the hall, stood Florimond, his cheeks puffed up and his eyes swollen,—­and right out of his open mouth came that terrible noise:  “Boo-hoo-hoo-hoo!”

His mamma and papa were begging him to be quiet.  The cook had run up with a pie, and the nurse with a toy, but Florimond only opened his mouth and screamed the louder, because the rain was coming down, when he wanted to play out of doors!

Then the knights saw that they were not wanted, and they hurried upstairs to prepare for their journey.  The baron and baroness and fat little Puff all begged them to stay, and Florimond cried again when they left him; but the knights did not care to stay with a child who was not good.

The knights began to think that their mission was a difficult one; but they rode on, asking at every house:  “Is there a good boy here?” only to be disappointed many times.

North, south, east, and west, they searched; and at last, one afternoon, they halted under an oak tree, to talk, and they decided to part company.

“Let each take his own way,” said Tristram the True, “and to-morrow we will meet, under this same tree, and tell what we have seen; for the time draws near when we must return to the king.”

Then they bade each other farewell, and each rode away, except Sir Tristram, who lingered long under the oak tree; for he was the leader, and had many things to think about.

Just as the sun was red in the west, he saw a little boy coming towards him, with a bundle of sticks on his back.

“Greeting to you, little boy,” said he.

“Greeting to you, fair sir,” said the boy, looking up with eager eyes at the knight on his splendid horse, that stood so still when the knight bade it.

“What is your name?” asked the knight.

“My name is little Gauvain,” replied the child.

“And can you prove a trusty guide, little Gauvain, and lead me to a pleasant place where I may rest to-night?” asked the knight.

“Ay, that I can,” Gauvain answered gladly, his whole face lighting up with pleasure; but he added quickly, “I can, if you will wait until I carry my sticks to Granny Slowsteps, and bring her water from the spring; for I promised to be there before the setting of the sun.”

Now little Gauvain wanted to help the good knight so much that he was sorry to say this; but Sir Tristram told him to run, and promised to wait patiently until his return; and before many moments Gauvain was back, bounding like a fawn through the wood, to lead the way to his own home.

When they came there the little dog ran out to meet them, and the cat rubbed up against Gauvain, and the mother called from the kitchen:—­