Once more Dermot did the answering. “He has. Send in the same twelve small men you used against his sons and we will show you enough action to satisfy you.”
The small men brought in the chain and passed one end to Dermot, who braced his feet against the rocks on the floor. The small men pulled as hard as they could, but not a link of slack chain could they get. All at once Dermot jerked them toward him, looped the chain over their necks and snapped off the twelve heads.
He then held out the end of the chain to the master and said, “Perhaps you would like to show us a little action yourself?”
The lord of the castle was seized with a fit of trembling at the thought of pulling against this terrible Fenian. He dropped to his knees and began to beg for his life.
“Spare me, and I will bring back the knight’s twelve sons,” he cried.
“That is all I could ask of you,” said Dermot.
The frightened enchanter took his rod and touched each of the twelve blocks of stone along the wall. Instantly the twelve sons of the knight were with them, as strong and hearty as ever.
You can imagine how the father felt over this change. He was no longer the Sorrowful Knight.
They wasted no time in leaving the enchanter’s palace and in returning to the castle of the man who was now the Glad Knight. From there Dermot and his friends went on to the home of the Red Giant, and then on to the king of the White Nation. Dermot was happy in being able to rescue the twelve young men, but he was far happier in the thought that he was now to see Finn MacCool.