A year passed and the cruel king was very ill, and he thought he would die. Then he remembered the knight he had treated so unkindly, and who was still in the dark, cold prison. "I will send for him, and ask him to forgive me," murmured the king.
And when Galahad was brought to the palace, he willingly forgave the tyrant who had put him in prison.
Then the king died, and there was great dismay in the city, for where would they find a good ruler to sit on the throne?
As they wondered, they heard a voice that told them to make Sir Galahad their king, and in great joy the knight was crowned.
Then the new king ordered a box of gold and precious stones to be made, and in this box he placed the wonderful table he had carried away from the ship. "And every morning I and my people will come here to pray," he said.
For a year Sir Galahad ruled the country well and wisely.
"A year ago they crowned me king," thought Galahad gravely, as he woke one morning. He would get up early, and go to pray at the precious table.
But before the king reached the table he paused. It was early. Surely all the city was asleep. Yet some one was already there, kneeling before the table on which, uncovered, stood the Sacred Cup.
The man kneeling there looked holy as the saints look. Surrounding him was a circle of angels. Was it a saint who kneeled, or was it the Lord Himself?