“You must, indeed,” said King Conal, “and you are very near death.”
“Near as I am,” said the Black Thief, “I was nearer.”
“Tell me the story; and if you were ever nearer death than you are at this minute, I will give your life to you.”
“I set out another day,” said the Black Thief, “and travelled far. I came at last to a house, and went into it. Inside was a woman with a child on her knee, a knife in her hand, and she crying. Twice she made an offer of the knife at the child to kill it. The beautiful child laughed, and held out its hands to her.
“‘Why do you raise the knife on the child,’ asked I, ‘and why are you crying?’
“‘I was at a fair,’ said the woman, ‘last year with my father and mother; and while the people were busy each with his own work, three giants came in on a sudden. The man who had a bite of bread in his hand did not put the bread to his mouth, and the man who had a bite in his mouth did not swallow it. The giants robbed this one and that, took me from my father and mother, and brought me to this place. I bound them, and they promised that none of the three would marry me before I was eighteen years of age. I’ll be that in a few days, and there is no escape for me now unless I raise hands on myself.
“‘Yesterday the giants brought this child; they said it was the son of some king, and told me to have it cooked and prepared in a pie for their supper this evening.’
“‘Spare the child,’ said I. ‘I have a young pig that I brought to roast for myself on the road; take that, and prepare it instead of the child.’
“‘The giants would know the pig, and kill me,’ said the woman.