The day was set when the Princess was to be offered up to the Stoorworm, and the night before there was a great feast at the palace, but a sad feast it was. Little was eaten and less was said. The King sat with his back to the light and bit his fingers, and no one dared to speak to him.
In the poorer houses there was a great stir and bustle and laying out of coats and dresses, for many were planning to go to the seashore to see the Princess offered up to the Stoorworm,—though a gruesome sight ’twould be to see. Ashipattle’s father and brothers were planning to go with the rest, but his mother and sister wept, and said they would not see it for anything in the world.
Now Ashipattle’s father had a horse named Feetgong, and he was not much to look at. Nevertheless the farmer treasured him, and it was not often he would let any one use him but himself. When the farmer rode Feetgong he could make him go like the wind,—none faster,—and that without beating him, either. Then when the farmer wished him to stop Feetgong would stand as still as though he were frozen to the ground; no one could make him budge. But if any one other than the farmer rode him, then it was quite different. Feetgong would jog along, and not even a beating would drive him faster, and then if one wanted him to stop that was as hard to do as it was to start him. Ashipattle was sure there was some secret about this; that his father had a way to make him go that no one knew about; but what that way was he could not find out.
The day before the beauteous Gemlovely was to be sacrificed Ashipattle said to his mother, “Tell me something; how is it that Feetgong will not go for you or my brothers or any one, but when my father mounts him he goes like the wind,—none faster?”
Then his mother answered, “Indeed, I do not know.”
“It seems a strange thing that my father would not tell you that,” said Ashipattle, “and you his own true wife.”
To this his mother answered nothing.
“A strange thing,” said Ashipattle; “and in all the years you’ve lived together not a thing have you kept back from him, whether he wished it or no. But even a good husband always holds back some secret from his wife.”
Still his mother spoke never a word, but Ashipattle could see that she was thinking.
That night Ashipattle lay awake long after the others were asleep. He heard his father snoring and his brothers, too, but it seemed his mother could not sleep. She turned and twisted and sighed aloud, until at last she awakened her husband.