Now it is customary that trolls should be the money-lenders of mighty kings, and Kora’s husband had many a time lent gold and silver and treasure of all sorts to a certain avaricious king, who loved wealth above everything, and oppressed his people with unendurable imposts. It so happened that just at this time the troll received an urgent message from this king, entreating him for a large sum of money. So he called his wife to him, and said to her, “I must now go on a journey which will last several days, and I will take my crystal with me, so that should you try to escape from me again, I shall be able to discover your hiding-place in a trice. Bear this in mind, wife, and let me have no more of these follies.”
For some time after she was left alone, Kora made no further attempt at escape. She did nothing but sit and brood over her troubles, and say to herself that there was no way out of them, till she suddenly called to mind the words of the inscription on the crystal, and understood that there must be just one country under the sun where she would be safe from her husband’s pursuit.
“I will try to find it,” said she, “it is the one chance left me.” And in this forlorn hope she went for the third time into the wood. Far, far she went, through forest and field and heath, till at last she was obliged to sit down by the roadside and rest. It had begun to rain, and dusk was falling. Kora was worn out with her wanderings, and shed many tears. All at once she felt a hand upon her shoulder. At first she started and cried out, believing that it was the troll, but then she saw that it was only an old crone with bent back and grizzled hair, leaning upon a stick.
“Daughter,” said the old woman, “what is your trouble?”
“I am escaping from my husband, the troll,” said Kora, “and I am afraid lest he should find me by looking into his magic crystal. I am in search of an unknown land where the crystal has no power.”
“You seem tired out,” said the old crone kindly, “come with me, for I can at least offer you shelter.”
Kora thanked her earnestly, and they walked on together. Heather and bracken stretched to either side of them for mile upon mile, the last curlew had gone to rest, and it was very still and eerie on the lonely moor. Kora looked to right and to left, hoping to catch sight of a shepherd’s cottage, or at least of some hovel which might prove to be the old woman’s home, but she could see nothing save certain giant boulders scattered here and there upon the heath. What then was her surprise when the old crone hobbled up to the largest of these, and struck it with her stick. Immediately the door was opened by a tabby cat.
“You are late, mistress,” said he.
“I have brought a guest,” replied the old woman, “so you must all bestir yourselves.” Then she led Kora into a snug little room, where a bright fire of peat blazed invitingly on the hearth.
“First you must eat and sleep,” said she, “and to-morrow you shall tell me of your trouble. I am a Wise Woman, and may be able to help you.”