"They are King Arthur's trusty warriors. They are waiting for the hour to come, when they shall rise up and destroy the enemies of the Cymry, and once again possess the whole island of Britain, as in the early ages, before the Saxons came."
"And who are those sitting around the table?" asked Taffy.
The sorcerer seemed tired of answering questions, but he replied, giving the name of each knight, and also that of his father, as if he were a Welshman himself; but at this, Taffy grew impatient, feeling as if a book of genealogy had been hurled at him.
Most impolitely, he interrupted his companion and cried out:
"And who is that on the throne?"
The sorcerer looked as if he was vexed, and felt insulted, but he answered:
"It's King Arthur himself, with Excalibur, his famous sword, in his hand."
This was snapped out, as if the sorcerer was disgusted at the interruption of his genealogy, and he shut his mouth tight as if he would answer no more questions, for such an impolite fellow.
Seizing Taffy by the hand, he led him into what was the storehouse of the cave. There lay heaps upon heaps of yellow gold. Both men stuffed their pockets, belt bags, and the inside of their clothes, with all they could load in.
"Now we had better get out, for it is time to go," said the sorcerer and he led the way towards the cave door.