“Alas! Alas!” he cried aloud, “my dear lady is drowned in this desolate pool.”
“Would that I were, good friend,” the princess’s voice made answer, “it had been better than this my sad captivity, for I am in the power of a wicked water-kelpie who woos me for his wife.”
When he heard these words, the cobbler fell to thinking how he might deliver his princess from her sorrowful fate, and soon he bethought him of the jewelled cross. This he took and flung it far into the tarn, and as the saving sign touched the surface the evil, wine-dark water began to seethe and boil in its depths, and the stately pearl-white palace of the kelpie broke up and dissolved upon the instant. So the princess was released and came forth from the tarn. Then the cobbler hastened to tell her of the discovery of the blackthorn, and of how he had come to bring her home to her parents.
“Tell me first,” said she, “what day it is, for I have lost all count of time.”
“It is All Hallows’ E’en,” replied the cobbler.
At that the princess began to lament bitterly, for she feared lest she might be too late to reach the bog country where the fairies would keep their feast.
“Do not be sorrowful, princess,” replied the cobbler, “I promise you we shall both see Samhain kept to-night, and to-morrow I will restore you to your home.”
“How is that to be?” asked she.
“I will make shoes of swiftness,” said the cobbler, “which will carry us more fleetly than the swallows.” And immediately he set to work and made her a pair of fairy shoes, and next he began making a pair for himself. But while he was still working at the second shoe, there came a sound of hoof-beats far away.
“O hasten, hasten!” cried the princess, wringing her hands, “for the kelpie is returning.” Nearer and nearer drew the sound of the thundering hoofs upon the road, faster and faster stitched the cobbler.