He was the Mysterious Knight, parented in fairy-far Avilion, the Fortunate Youth, the Awakener of England.

Now he was but a base-born young man who had attained a high position by false pretences; an ordinary adventurer with a glib tongue; a self-educated, self-seeking, commonplace fellow.

At least, so he saw himself in his Princess's eyes.
And he had meant that she should thus behold him.

No longer was he entering lists to fight for her.

For what hopeless purpose was he entering them?
To awaken England?
The awakener must have his heart full of dreams and visions and glamour and joy and throbbing life; and in his heart there was death.
He drew out the little cornelian talisman at the end of his watch-chain and looked at it bitterly.