Yes! the lad was willing enough; and so when the King came up, he was quite amazed at the grand drove of horses, for the matches of such horses he had never yet set eyes on, he said.
So he asked the lad who watched them, whose all these blacks, and bays, and browns, and chesnuts were?
“Whose should they be”, said the lad, “but Lord Peter’s.”
So when they had gone a good bit farther, they came to a castle; first there was a gate of tin, and next there was a gate of silver, and next a gate of gold. The castle itself was of silver, and so dazzling white, that it quite hurt one’s eyes to look at in the sunbeams which fell on it just as they reached it.
So they went into it, and the Cat told Peter to say this was his house. As for the castle inside, it was far finer than it looked outside, for everything was pure gold—chairs, and tables, and benches, and all. And when the King had gone all over it, and seen everything high and low, he got quite shameful and downcast.
“Yes”, he said at last; “Lord Peter has everything far finer than I have, there’s no gainsaying that”, and so he wanted to be off home again.
But Peter begged him to stay to supper, and the King stayed, but he was sour, and surly the whole time.
So as they sat at supper, back came the Troll who owned the castle, and gave such a great knock at the door.
“WHO’S THIS EATING MY MEAT AND DRINKING MY MEAD LIKE SWINE IN HERE”, roared out the Troll.
As soon as the Cat heard that, she ran down to the gate.