“Is there any cure for you here or there in the world?” asked Shawn.
“There is no getting the cure that would heal me; there is no cure but three apples from the white orchard in the White Nation.”
“Well,” said the boy, “I promise you not to eat the third meal at the one table, nor sleep the second night in the one bed, till I get three apples from the White Nation.”
The father was very angry when they came out of the bed-room. “Sure,” said he, “it would be enough for you to risk your life for your own mother.”
“Well, I must go now,” said Shawn; “the promise is given; I’ll not break my word.” So away with him on the following morning; and on that day’s journey he came to a glen, and in it a house. In the house there was no living creature but a white mare with nine eyes.
“A hundred thousand welcomes to you, Shawn MacBreogan from Brandon. You must be tired and hungry after the day’s journey,” cried the mare. “Go in now to the next room, and take supper, and strengthen yourself.”
He went to the next room, and inside in it was a table, and on the table was everything that the best king could wish for. He ate, drank, and went then and gave a hundred thousand thanks for the supper. He stood near the fire for a while; then the mare said, “Come here, and lie under my head; wonder at nothing you see, and let no word out of you.”
He did as the mare said. About dusk three seals came in, and went to the supper-room. They threw off their sealskins, and became three as fine young men as one could look at.
“I wish Shawn MacBreogan from Brandon were here to-night. I’d be glad to see him, and give him a present, and have his good company,” said one of the three.