“Spare me, man of Erin,” pleaded the Red Giant. “I concede that you are the better man, and that you are entitled to the hound.”
Dermot never took advantage of a man who asked for mercy. He pulled the giant out of the earth and set him upon his feet. From that moment the Red Giant was his friend. He invited Dermot and the small chief into the castle and set out food and drink for them. In the morning he willingly gave up the hound and bade them a hearty farewell.
VI.
Dermot went before the king the next morning. You can guess that the monarch was far from overjoyed at seeing him. He had felt sure that the troublesome champion would never bother him again.
“Well, have you the hound with the golden chain?” he asked, trying to hide his disappointment.
“You see them before you,” answered Dermot.
“Hand them over to me,” demanded the king.
That was just what Dermot had no intention of doing. He felt sorry for the Red Giant, because the man had put up a good fight and had been his friend after the struggle was over. Moreover, he felt that the king had no right to the hound.
“That I will not do,” declared Dermot.
The king’s wicked little eyes lit up with pleasure. “Then, by the terms of the trial, you forfeit your head,” he said.