“Shall I not call him traitor,” cried she, “who hath worn another lady’s token at the jousting?”
“Be sure he did it, madam, for no ill intent,” replied Sir Bors, “but that he might be better hidden, for never did he in that wise before.”
“Now shame on him, and thee who wouldest help him,” cried the queen.
“Madam, say what ye will,” said he; “but I must haste to seek him, and God send me soon good tidings of him.”
So with that he departed to find Sir Lancelot.
Now Elaine had ridden with full haste from Astolat, and come to Camelot, and there she sought throughout the country for any news of Lancelot. And so it chanced that Sir Lavaine was riding near the hermitage to exercise his horse, and when she saw him she ran up and cried aloud, “How doth my lord Sir Lancelot fare?”
Then said Sir Lavaine, marvelling greatly, “How know ye my lord’s name, fair sister?”
So she told him how Sir Gawain had lodged with Sir Bernard, and knew Sir Lancelot’s shield.
Then prayed she to see his lord forthwith, and when she came to the hermitage and found him lying there sore sick and bleeding, she swooned for sorrow. Anon, as she revived, Sir Lancelot kissed her, and said, “Fair maid, I pray ye take comfort, for, by God’s grace, I shall be shortly whole of this wound, and if ye be come to tend me, I am heartily bounden to your great kindness.” Yet was he sore vexed to hear Sir Gawain had discovered him, for he knew Queen Guinevere would be full wroth because of the red sleeve.