And the young man rode on.
After travelling on her way still farther, she saw, through the thick snow falling, an old woman, high-coloured and of robust seeming, despite her great age, coming towards her.
And the old woman said:
“Beautiful maid, riding so fast, hast seen my son Halewyn?”
But Magtelt:
“Thy son Siewert Halewyn is dead; see, here is his head beneath my keirle, and his blood running thick on my dress.”
And the old woman cried out:
“If thou had spoken these words earlier thou shouldst not have ridden so far.”
But Magtelt:
“Thou art fortunate, old woman, in that I have left thee thine own body and not slain thee as I have thy son.”