“That’s not fair fighting.”
“It is not, indeed. I am ten days and nights without food, drink, or rest, while you have had them twice. We have not fought fairly so far, but we will hereafter. You must remain as you are now till one of us is conquered.”
They were fighting till noon, the thirteenth day. “I am beaten,” said Long Sweeper. “Whatever I have I am willing to give you, but spare my life, for if there is a good hero in the world you are he.”
“I want nothing of you,” said Cahal, “but to send out to me my bride, Bloom of Youth, daughter of the King of Hathony, the maiden you took from Wet Mantle. You have caused me great hardship and trouble, but I’ll let some one else take your life, or may you live as you are.”
“I cannot send out your bride,” said Long Sweeper, “for she is not in my castle. The Black Horseman took her from me three months ago.”
“Where am I to find that man?”
“I might tell you to put your nose before you and walk after it, but I will not; I will give you a guide. Here is a rod; whichever way the rod turns, follow it till you come to the Western World, where the Black Horseman lives.”
Cahal mounted his mare, made off with the rod in his hand, and rode straight to the Black Horseman’s castle. The messenger was in front of the castle before him.
“Tell your master to send out champions against me, or to come himself,” said Cahal.
That moment the Black Horseman himself was on the threshold. “I am here all alone,” said he to Cahal. “I have lost all my wealth, all my men, all my magic. I am now in a poor state, though I was living pleasantly and in greatness after the conflict in which I got the better of Long Sweeper. It’s rich and strong I was after parting with that man, and I was waiting here to marry when White Beard from the Western World came, made war on me, and continued it for a day and a year; then he left me poor and lonely, as I am at this moment.”