CHAPTER VI.
THE PASSING OF ARTHUR.
When morning dawned, after that day of fate, Lucan and Bevidere took up the king between them, and sought to bear him to the sea-shore, as he bade them do. But in the lifting the king swooned, and Lucan fell prostrate, the blood gushing anew from his wound.
Arthur lay long like one dead, and when he came to himself again he saw Lucan lifeless at his feet, with foam upon his lips, and the ground around him deeply stained with his blood.
"Alas! this is a heavy sight to see," he said. "He sought to help me when he stood most in need of help. He would not complain though his heart broke, and has given his life for mine. May Jesus have mercy on his soul."
Bevidere stood beside him, weeping bitterly for the death of his brother.
"Weep and mourn no more," said the king. "It will not now avail. Could I live, the death of Sir Lucan would grieve me evermore. But my time goeth fast, and there is that to do for which but few moments remain."
Then he closed his eyes for a time, like one who sees visions; and when he looked again there was that in his face which Bevidere could not fathom and his eyes were deep with meaning unrevealed.
"Now, my lord Bevidere," said the king, "the end is at hand. Take thou my good sword Excalibur, and go with it to yonder water-side. When thou comest there, I charge thee throw it as far as thou canst into the water; then come again and tell me what thing thou seest."
"Trust me, my lord and king, your command shall be obeyed," said Bevidere.