The old woman was always praying by night and day. Margaret asked her, “Why are you always saying your prayers?”
“I and my mother were living a long while ago in the place they call the White Doon, and a giant came and killed my mother, and I had to come away for fear he would kill myself; and I am praying every night and every day that some one may come and kill the giant.”
The next morning there came a gentleman and a beautiful woman into the house, and he gave the old woman the full of a quart of money to say paters for them till morning. The old woman opened a chest and took out a handsome ring, and tried to place it on his finger, but it would not go on. “Perhaps it would fit you,” said she to the lady. But her finger was too big.
When they went out Margaret asked the old woman who were the man and woman. “That is the son of a king of the Eastern World, and the name that is on him is Stephen, and he and the woman are going to the White Doon to fight the giant, and I am afraid they will never come back; for the ring did not fit either of them; and it was told to the people that no one would kill the giant but he whom the ring would fit.”
The two of them remained during the night praying for him, for fear the giant should kill him; and early in the morning they went out to see what had happened to Stephen and the lady that was with him, and they found them dead near the White Doon.
“I knew,” said the old woman, “this is what would happen to them. It is better for us to take them with us and bury them in the churchyard.” When they were buried, “Come home,” said the old woman, “and we’ll know who is the first person comes the same way again.”
About a month after a man came into the house, and no sooner was he inside the door than Margaret recognised him.
“How have you been ever since, Simon?”
“I am very well,” said he; “it can’t be that you are Margaret?”
“It is I,” said she.