The lad came to the door and tried to open it, and when he found it was fastened, he called to them to let him in, but they would not until he made the lions lie down outside, and promised they should stay there.
When he went in, there stood his mother shaking and trembling.
“Well, mother, here is the lions’ milk,” he said, “and I’m sure I hope it may make you well again.”
The woman was obliged to drink the milk, though she did not want it.
That night the Troll and she began talking together after they thought the lad was sleeping. But he was wide awake and heard all they said between them, though they spoke in whispers.
“This son of yours is so strong I don’t see how we’re ever to get rid of him,” said the Troll.
“Well, if you don’t know, I’m sure I don’t,” replied the woman.
“There’s one other plan we might try,” said the Troll. “I have two more brothers who live not so very far away from here in a castle, and they are very strong and terrible. Round about the castle is an orchard that bears apples all the year round, and any one who so much as tastes of those apples at once falls into a deep sleep, and nothing can waken him till he has had his sleep out, and the sleep lasts for three days and three nights. If we could but send the lad there after the apples, he would be sure to eat of them, and fall asleep, and then my brothers would find him there and tear him to pieces for they come out every day to walk in the garden and so would be sure to find him.”
“If that is the way of it, we’ve no need to worry,” said the woman, “for I’ll find a way to send him there.”
The next day the woman said she still was not able to get up. She lay there in the bed, moaning and groaning.