Then the little young Etin, for that was the name of Margaret's eldest son, took his mother's hand and called his six little brothers, and together they went through Elmond wood as fast as ever they could go. It may be that the mother led the way, it may be that so it chanced, but soon they had left the greenwood far behind and stood on an open heath. And there, before them, stood a castle.
Margaret looked and Margaret smiled. She knew she was standing once again before her father's gate.
She took three rings from her pocket and gave them to her eldest wee boy.
'Give one,' she said, 'to the porter. He is proud, but so he sees the ring, he will open the gate and let you enter.
'Give another to the butler, my little wee son, and he will show you where ye are to go.
'And the third ye shall hand to the minstrel. You will see him with his harp, standing in the hall. It may be he will play goodwill to my bonny wee son who has come from Elmond wood.'
Then young Etin did as his mother had said.
The first ring he gave to the porter, and without a word the gate was opened for the little wee boy.
He gave the second ring to the butler, and without a word the little wee boy was led into the hall.
The third ring he gave to the minstrel, and without a word he took his harp and forthwith played goodwill to the bonny wee boy from the greenwood.