As they stood talking, Sir Lavaine rode furiously in at the gate, crying,—
"Where is my lord, Sir Lancelot du Lake?"
"Here I am," cried Lancelot from a window. "All is well, Lavaine."
"I found your horse slain with arrows, and judged you were hard pushed."
"As for that, Lavaine, soft words have turned hard blows. Come in. We shall right this matter at another time, when we best may."
For many a day thereafter, as the French book says, Lancelot was called the Chevalier of the Cart, and many an adventure he had under that homely name.
All went peacefully that night at the castle, but the next morning there was new trouble. For one of the castle maidens brought word to Meliagrance that she had found what seemed to be the print of a bloody hand on the coverings of the queen's bed. Thither he hurried, full of jealous anger, and found what appeared, indeed, to be the crimson print of a man's hand. On seeing this he made a loud outcry, declaring that it was the blood of one of the wounded knights, and fiercely accused Guenever of having been false to her lord King Arthur.
When word of this accusation came to the wounded knights they were filled with indignation, and cried that they would meet Meliagrance or any man in the lists in defence of the queen's honor.
"Ye speak proudly," said Meliagrance. "Yet look here, and see if I have not warrant for what I say."
When he showed them the red witness of his words they were abashed, and knew not what to answer.