The Stranger and Sir Launcelot  
Let us then turn to Sir Launcelot now making his way along the road over which Allan had been seen to depart. Though the knight had denied that he purposed to seek the lad, yet had his horse taken that way. A growing fondness for the boy which he had not made too obvious, for it was not his wont to show too easily his feelings. Display or show of emotion ever embarrassed him. He had noted the long absence of Allan and so had mounted his horse intent to all appearance on a short canter.
 
Half way to where Allan had made his couch, the road over which he had ridden branched right and left and some miles down came together again. Now when Allan returned he took the road to his right having ridden the other way earlier in the day. Sir Launcelot made for the road to the right of him and so missed the boy returning.
 
He found himself at the place at which the boy had slept. He dismounted to observe more closely. Then he beheld the holy man as he stepped from the shadows.
 
"Good day to you, holy father," the knight greeted him.
 
"God's blessing stay with thee, son. I have been expecting thee."
 
"Nay, father, not me. Other knight, mayhap. For I knew not myself I would be here."
 
"Yet did I know, Sir Launcelot. You came here to seek the youth Allan and knew not that you came in obedience to greater will than your own. And having come, you must, prithee, listen to the things that must be told you."
 
"Launcelot," and the monk spoke sternly and yet with great sadness, "as measured by men thou art the bravest knight in Christendom. Chivalrous, strong, yet gentle and ever ready to succor the weak and distressed. Your name shall be emblazoned as symbolic of chivalry." The strange man paused for a time.
 
"I speak now of the Holy Grail," he resumed. "Who would be better fitted to seek and find the Holy Grail? Are there any who hold greater desire to find the same? And who seeks to make himself more worthy?"
 
"And yet, though you seek until Judgment Day you will never find it. In the innermost soul of you, you know it to be so. The pity of it."
 
"Strange monk," and a dull red mantled the knight's cheeks, "those are bold words you speak. None but Launcelot himself can tell the things he may or may not do. And since I am not in search of father confessor, nor since I sought not this meeting, I pray thee offer not your counsel nor advice."
 
"The truth, then, sears, sir knight!" Now the monk's eyes flashed. Straight and tall he stood and his lean figure held so much of that which was not earthly, that even the mighty Launcelot was daunted.
 
"Who then has more right or reason to tell you of these things. It is I who first picked you, long since, as likely finder of the Holy Grail. And when I found you slipping ever so little, and well you know wherein you have failed me, I sent Merlin to all of you. For since he on whom I had built my faith could not measure to the test I had strong need to find someone else.
 
"For Britain must hold the Grail. Somewhere in it, there must be the man who measures up to the test, high though it be............