“Who made what?”
When she saw the embroidery she tried to snatch it from him, but he held it tight.
“I made it, of course!” she declared. “Who but me would sit up all night and work while you lay snoring!”
But the King’s Son, as he folded the embroidery, muttered to himself:
“It doesn’t look to me much like your work!”
After he had breakfasted, the King’s Son asked for news of Osmo. A slave was sent to the place of the serpents and when he returned he reported that Osmo was sitting amongst them uninjured.
“The old king snake has made friends with him,” he added, “and has wound himself around Osmo’s arm.”
The King’s Son was amazed at this news and also relieved, for the whole affair troubled him sorely and he was beginning to suspect a mystery.
He knew an old wise woman who lived alone in a little hut on the seashore and he decided he would go and consult her. So he went to her and told her about Osmo and how Osmo had deceived him in regard to his sister. Then he told her how the serpents instead of devouring Osmo had made friends with him and last he showed her the square of lovely embroidery he had found on his pillow that morning.
“There is a mystery somewhere, granny,” he said in conclusion, “and I know not how to solve it.”