After administering to his relief, Sir Lancelot rode up to the
castle-gate, but found no entrance thereby. The drawbridge was raised,
and he sought in vain the means of giving the appointed signal for its
descent.
But the damsel showed him a secret place where hung a little horn. On
this he blew a sharp and ringing blast, when the bridge presently began
to lower, and instantly to adjust itself across the moat; whereon,
hastening, he unlocked the gate. But here he had nigh fallen into a
subtle snare, by reason of an ugly dwarf that was concealed in a side
niche of the wall. He was armed with a ponderous mace; and had not the
maiden drawn Sir Lancelot aside by main force, he would have been
crushed in its descent, the dwarf aiming a deadly blow at him as he
passed. It fell, instead, with a loud crash on the pavement, and broke
into a thousand fragments. Thereupon, Sir Lancelot smote him with the
giant's sword, and hewed the mischievous monster asunder without mercy.
Turning towards the damsel, he beheld her form suddenly change, and she
vanished from his sight: then was he aware that it had been the nymph
Vivian who accompanied him through the enchantments he had so happily
subdued.
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