"Oh, Balin, terrible is the harm that thou hast done to this innocent land! Three countries lie destroyed through the dolorous stroke thou gavest unto King Pellam. Woe to thee for this dread deed! Thou hast escaped alive, yet doubt not but the vengeance of heaven will fall on thee at last!"
Great was the grief and suffering with which the good knight heard these words, and glad at heart was he when at length he left behind him that land of woe and ruin, to which his innocent hand had wrought such deadly harm.
But as he rode onward the feeling came to him that his end was at hand, though this grieved him little, for he felt as one set apart to do heaven's work of destiny. And for eight days thereafter he rode over many leagues of strange country without adventure.
At length came a day when he saw before him, by the roadside, a cross, on which in letters of gold was written, "It is not wise for any knight alone to ride towards this castle," Then he saw a white-haired old man approach, who said,--
"Balin le Savage, you pass your bounds to come this way. Turn again, if you would leave this place in safety."
With these words he vanished, and as he did so there rang on the air a bugle-blast like that blown for the death of a beast of the chase.
"That blast is blown for me," said Balin. "I am the prize of the invisible powers. I am not yet dead, but they claim me for their own."
As he stood lost in deep thought there came trooping from the castle, which he now saw in the distance, a hundred fair ladies and many knights, who welcomed him with great show of gladness, and led him with them to the castle, where he found dancing and minstrelsy, and all manner of sport and pleasure. As he stood observing all this the chief lady of the castle said to him,--
"Knight of the two swords, there is a custom of this castle which all who come here must keep. Hereby is an island which is held by a knight, and no man can pass this way unless he joust with him."
"That is an unhappy custom," said Balin. "Why should every traveller be forced to fight?"
"You shall have to do with but one knight," said the lady.
"That troubles me little," said Balin. "I and my horse are both weary from our journey, but I am not weary at heart, and, if fight I must, I am ready to do it now. If death comes to me, it will not come unwelcome."