Now, inside the door was the court of a great tower, which was hidden on the landward side by the top of the crag, and the man with the fierce face was a robber who had made his home in it. The people who lived in the country round were terrified of him, for he would come out at night and harry their villages, robbing both rich and poor. No one could catch him, because the narrow crossing over which the Nix had come was the only way of getting at the tower, and he and his men would shoot from behind the loopholes, killing all who approached. They could not get at him from the sea, for the rock ran straight down into it like a wall and nobody could climb it.
The robber dragged the Nix into his tower, not because he wanted to kill her, but because he had no wife to be mistress of it, and he thought that so beautiful a lady would be the very person. He was not at all cruel to her, and he brought her all the finest things in his treasure-house. He offered her jewels he had plundered, necklaces of pearls and diamonds stolen from the merchant ships he had attacked; for he was a pirate too and his galleys were anchored in the deep water of the caves below his rock. But she scarcely looked at them; the only ornament she cared for was her wreath of water-lilies that she used to pluck from the mill-pool.
But at last the time came when he got angry. “To-night I am going out,” he said. “The only thing I have not stolen is a wedding-ring, and now I want one. I shall land at the first village up the coast, for I know that the fishermen are at sea, and at the first house I go to I will seize the wife’s wedding-ring. To-morrow we will be married with it.”
Among the robber’s captives was a priest he had taken prisoner, so he told him that he must be ready to marry them as soon as he could get back with the ring. The priest was sorry for the Water-Nix and did not want to do it.
“You will have to,” said the robber, “or you shall be thrown into the sea.”
Then the poor Water-Nix wrung her hands and cried and sobbed so piteously that the priest’s heart smote him, and he cudgelled his brains to think of some plan to save her. At last he found one. As soon as the robber’s back was turned he said: “Bring me the diamond necklace that he gave you and I will see what we can do.”
When he had got it he went to one of the robber’s men.
“Look at this,” said he. “If you will open the great door to-night when your chief is gone, and let us all three out, you shall have it the moment we reach the mainland. It is so valuable that, if you sell it, the price will enable you to live honestly for the rest of your days.”
“But I don’t care for honesty,” said the robber’s man.
“Well, never mind about being honest,” said the priest. “You can be rich without that.”