erein is a great mound. There
ye will see a stone slab. Knock on that three times, and the troll-man
that dwells therein will tell thee thy further way.'

Sir Owen marked how evil was the smile with which Sir Dewin said these
words; but Sir Owen thanked him, and then he was shown to his pallet
and all retired to rest.

When he arose in the morning Sir Owen found his horse already prepared,
and, having put on his armour, he rode forth along the way which the
knight had indicated to him. And he came at last to the glade wherein
he saw the great mound, with grass growing all over it, as if it were a
little hill. In the side he saw a stone slab as if it were a door, and
he struck upon it with the butt of his lance.

Three times he struck, and at the third blow he heard a voice, rough
and loud, from somewhere above his head.

'Get thee gone,' cried the voice, 'darken not the door of my house, or
'twill be worse for thee.'

Sir Owen could not see who was speaking, for no one was visible.

'I would ask thee the way to the fountain,' he replied. 'Tell me, and I
will not trouble thee further, thou surly troll.'

'The fountain?' cried the voice. 'I will save thee thy journey, thou
overbearing knight, as I have saved it for others as proud and as
would-be valiant, whom my master hath sent to me!'

With that Sir Owen received so hard and fierce a blow upon his
headpiece that he was hard put to it to keep his wits and his seat; and
looking round he saw the troll, a fierce dark little man, on the very
top of the mound, wielding a long thick bar of iron, as thick as a
weaver's beam.

Sir Owen thrust at the troll with his lance; but the moundman seized it
below the point of steel, and so strong was he, that though Sir Owen
drew him down from the top of the hillock, he could not loose it from
the little man's hold.

Meanwhile, the troll was beating at Sir Owen with the staff of iron,
which, for all its weight and size, he wielded as if it was no more
than a stout cudgel. And hard bestead was Sir Owen to shield himself
from the smashing blows which rained upon him. At the seventh blow his
shield was cracked across and his shield arm was numbed.

Suddenly he dashed his horse forward, and the little man, still holding
the lance, was thrown backward upon the grassy slope of his own mound.
Swiftly Sir Owen leaped from his horse and drew his sword, and while
the troll was rising he dashed at him and wounded him.

But next momen