On hearing this the good man welcomed Percivale warmly, and pressed him to remain. But the knight replied that he could not, for his duty led him onward.
Percivale now left the chapel, and, arming himself, he took his horse and rode onward. And that day more strange things happened to him than we have space to tell. Not far had he ridden when he met twenty men-at-arms, who bore on a bier a dead knight. On learning that he was from King Arthur's court, they assailed him fiercely, killed his horse, and would have slain him; but when he was at the worst strait a knight in red armor came hastily to his rescue, and rode fiercely on the assailants.
He attacked these, indeed, with such fury that many of them were soon stretched on the ground; while the others fled into a thick forest, whither they were hotly pursued by their assailant.
On seeing him thus ride away, Percivale was deeply grieved, for he well knew his rescuer was Galahad, and he had no horse to follow him.
He went forward as fast as he could on foot, and had not gone far when he met a yeoman riding on a hackney, and leading a great war-horse, blacker than any bear.
Percivale begged that he would lend him this horse, that he might overtake a knight before him. But this the yeoman refused, saying that the owner of the horse would slay him if he should do so.
Not long afterwards, as Percivale sat woebegone beneath a tree, an armed knight came riding past on the black horse, pursued by the yeoman, who called him robber, and moaned bitterly that his master would kill him for the loss of his charge.
"Lend me your hackney," said Percivale; "I may get you your horse again."
This the yeoman gladly did, and Percivale pursued the robber knight, loudly bidding him to stand and deliver.
The knight at this turned and rode fiercely upon him, but directed his spear against the horse instead of the rider, striking it in the breast, so that it fell to the earth.