“If you do not go willingly, you will force me to kill the yarl, and burn the palace, with all that are in it.”
He looked so fierce and grim as he spoke, that Hildeswid trembled with fear, and obeyed him without a word.
He took her by the hand and led her down to the court, where a groom was holding his horse in readiness. In the clear light of day, and in the presence of many watchmen, none of whom dared remonstrate, Samson placed the princess before him on the saddle, and rode away with her into the wood and towards his home. When he reached his dwelling the door was locked, and he knocked so thunderously that the sound was heard to a great distance. No answer. He knocked again and again. A hoarse voice at last was heard from within, proclaiming that the door should not be opened whilst the owner of the house was from home.
“Mother,” cried Samson, “pull back the bolts, for it is I—your son—I have brought you a princess to be your daughter, and to tend you in your old age.”
The door opened, creaking and groaning, as though unaccustomed to move on its hinges, and a thin old woman came out on the threshold, dressed in rags.
“What?” she cried. “Do you bring guests with you? That woman in her grand clothes, her maid, and an idle groom. How could you do it, son? You know how poor we are;” and she looked up at her tall son with a cunning leer.
“But, mother,” said the warrior, “where is the gold I sent you? Where are the servants I gave you? And what have you done with the gorgeous raiment I sent to clothe you?”
“I hid the gold away in my chest,” answered the old woman; “for one never knows whether one may not become a pauper in one’s old age. I dismissed the servants you gave me very soon, for I thought they would have eaten me out of house and home; and as for the clothes, I have laid them aside to wait for better times.”
“Ah well, mother,” said Samson, “if that sort of thing makes you happy, you can do as you like with your own; but now open the door and let us in. We are tired after our long ride, and would fain have a good dinner.”
They went into the house and sat down. The old woman placed before them a hunch of rye bread and a jar of water. Samson would have made but a poor meal, had his groom not brought out a cut of venison and some wine, with which he had taken care to provide himself before leaving the palace. After he had stilled his hunger, Samson begged his lady’s permission to go out and see if he could not find a stag to store the larder. The groom went down to the cellar, where he was fortunate enough to find a cask of ale; and the old mother withdrew to her own apartments, leaving the princess alone with her maid.