THE KING OF ELFLAND’S DAUGHTER
“I have a message from the King of Elfland.”
The fox showed no respect or fear at the mention of that dread name, but slightly moved his head and eyes to conceal the awe that he felt.
“If it is a message,” he said, “their haunts are over there.” And he pointed with his long thin nose towards Erl.
“How shall I know when I get there?” said the troll.
“By the smell,” said the fox. “It is a big haunt of men, and the smell is dreadful.”
“Thanks, Noman’s Dog,” said the troll. And he seldom thanked anyone.
“I should never go near them,” said the fox, “but for . . .” And he paused and reflected silently.
“But for what?” said the troll.
“But for their poultry.” And he fell into a grave silence.
“Good-bye, Noman’s Dog,” said the troll and turned head-over-heels, and was off on his way to Erl.
Passing over the buttercups all through the dewy morning the troll was far on his way by the afternoon, and saw before evening the smoke and the towers of Erl. It was all sunk in a hollow; and gables and chimneys and towers peered over the lip of the valley, and smoke hung over them on the dreamy air. “The haunts of men,” said the troll. Then he sat down amongst the grasses and looked at it.
Presently he went nearer and looked at it again.
