‘Now take my head off,’ said the raven. But Ian answered:
‘Poor thanks were that for all the help you have given me.’
‘It is the only thanks you can give me,’ said the raven, ‘for I was a youth like yourself before spells were laid on me.’
Then Ian drew his sword and cut off the head of the raven, and shut his eyes so that he might see nothing. After that he lay down and slept till morning dawned, and the man came and unlocked the door and shook the sleeper.
‘Here is the cap,’ said Ian drowsily, drawing it from under his pillow. And he fell asleep again directly.
The sun was high in the heavens when he woke again, and this time he beheld a tall, brown-haired youth standing by him.
‘I am the raven,’ said the youth, ‘and the spells are broken. But now get up and come with me.’
Then they two went together to the place where Ian had left the dead horse; but no horse was there now, only a beautiful maiden.
‘I am the horse,’ she said, ‘and the spells are broken’; and she and the youth went away together.
In the meantime the smith had carried the cap to the castle, and bade a servant belonging to the knight’s youngest daughter bear it to her mistress. But when the girl’s eyes fell on it, she cried out: