They saluted him kindly, thinking he had gold, and asked, “Will you play a game with us?”
“I will,” said Cormac; “I have never refused.”
They played. The robbers gained, and let him gain; they were at him the best of the day, till they won the last piece of gold of his two thousand pieces.
When he had lost what he had, he was like a wild man, and knew not what to do for a while. At last Cormac said to himself, “It is an old saying never contradicted that strength will get the upper hand of enchantment.” He jumped then, and caught two of the three robbers, one in each hand, and set them under his two knees. The third was coming to help the two; but Cormac caught that one with his hand and held the three, kept them there, and said, “I will knock the heads off every man of you.”
“Do not do that,” begged the three. “Who are you? We will do what you ask of us.”
“I am seeking my father, Cian Mac Cormac, who left Spain eighteen years ago with Glas Gainach.”
“Spare us,” said the three brothers; “we will give back your gold and raise up your father with Glas Gainach.”
“How can ye do that,” asked Cormac, “or where is my father?”
“He is that pillar there opposite.”