Adam was sent ahead to see how matters stood. He ran on and looked in the hall. There sat the justice with his jury, and before them stood Sir Ote in heavy fetters. When Adam returned and reported what he had seen, Gamelyn turned and cried, “Hear this, my men, Sir Ote stands bound in the court. With God’s help we will make my brother pay for this,”
“A curse on them all,” said Adam. “If you take my advice, not one of all that company shall keep his head.” “No,” said Gamelyn, “we will punish the guilty, but the others shall go free. I will go and talk with this justice. Let none escape through the door, for I will be judge and hold my court here to-day.”
In went Gamelyn amongst the crowd and stood before them all. In dismay the court saw the doors filled with Gamelyn’s men, all armed, and was sore afraid. Gamelyn went up to Sir Ote and loosed him. “You have come almost too late,” said Sir Ote, “for the verdict is given that I must hang.” “If God be with us,” replied Gamelyn, “the jury that condemned you shall hang, and the sheriff and judge too.” With that he went up to the magistrate and threw him out of his seat. Then he sat there himself, and had his false brother and the justice put in the prisoners’ dock together with the jury. A new jury of his own men was called and a fresh trial was held. The prisoners were found guilty of having conspired to kill Gamelyn and Sir Ote, and the outlaws took them out and hung them. So was the treachery of the false knight ended at last.
Later Sir Ote and Gamelyn went to the king of the land to make their peace with him. He knew the wrong that they had suffered, and forgave them readily. Sir Ote was made a justice, Gamelyn became ruler of all the king’s forests, obtained, pardon for his woodland followers, married a fair wife, and lived long and happily.
So ends my tale. God save this company and bring us safe at last to His rest. Amen.
* * * * *
Thus the tale ended, and we went to bed to sleep soundly till the morrow.
The fourth day of our journey dawned bright and clear, and we were on the road early. The sun shone brilliantly, the warm air was full of the songs of larks. We were all in the mood for a tale of romance, and were glad when the Host called on the handsome young Squire to tell us his tale. “For certain,” said Harry Bailey, “you know more of love than any man.” “No, good sir,” replied the Squire, laughing and blushing a little; “but I will do my best. If I fail, pray have me excused.” And as he rode along gracefully, with his long sleeves fluttering gaily behind him, he told us this story: