On their return to the castle they found that mass was finished, and had scarcely time to speak to the queen before they were summoned into the hall to dinner.  A general gloom was spread over the countenances of all the guests.  Arthur himself was unable to conceal his dejection, and the wretched Guenever, motionless and bathed in tears, sat in trembling expectation of Sir Mador’s appearance.  Nor was it long ere he stalked into the hall, and with a voice of thunder, rendered more impressive by the general silence, demanded instant justice on the guilty party.  Arthur replied with dignity, that little of the day was yet spent, and that perhaps a champion might yet be found capable of satisfying his thirst for battle.  Sir Bohort now rose from table, and shortly returning in complete armor, resumed his place, after receiving the embraces and thanks of the king, who now began to resume some degree of confidence.  Sir Mador, growing impatient, again repeated his denunciations of vengeance, and insisted that the combat should no longer be postponed.

In the height of the debate there came riding into the hall a knight mounted on a black steed, and clad in black armor, with his visor down, and lance in hand.  “Sir,” said the king, “is it your will to alight and partake of our cheer?” “Nay, sir,” he replied; “I come to save a lady’s life.  The queen hath ill bestowed her favors, and honored many a knight, that in her hour of need she should have none to take her part.  Thou that darest accuse her of treachery, stand forth, for to-day shalt thou need all thy might.”

Sir Mador, though surprised, was not appalled by the stern challenge and formidable appearance of his antagonist, but prepared for the encounter.  At the first shock both were unhorsed.  They then drew their swords, and commenced a combat which lasted from noon till evening, when Sir Mador, whose strength began to fail, was felled to the ground by Launcelot, and compelled to sue for mercy.  The victor, whose arm was already raised to terminate the life of his opponent, instantly dropped his sword, courteously lifted up the fainting Sir Mador, frankly confessing that he had never before encountered so formidable an enemy.  The other, with similar courtesy, solemnly renounced all further projects of vengeance for his brother’s death; and the two knights, now become fast friends, embraced each other with the greatest cordiality.  In the meantime Arthur, having recognized Sir Launcelot, whose helmet was now unlaced, rushed down into the lists, followed by all his knights, to welcome and thank his deliverer.  Guenever swooned with joy, and the place of combat suddenly exhibited a scene of the most tumultuous delight.

The general satisfaction was still further increased by the discovery of the real culprit.  Having accidentally incurred some suspicion, he confessed his crime, and was publicly punished in the presence of Sir Mador.

The court now returned to the castle, which, with the title of “La Joyeuse Garde” bestowed upon it in memory of the happy event, was conferred on Sir Launcelot by Arthur, as a memorial of his gratitude.