At the very moment that Conan had finished drinking, he and Dryantore heard the music sounding faintly in the distance; and the giant opened the door and stood on the threshold to listen. He was so charmed that he quite forgot all about Conan and the drinking-horn; and finding that he could not hear the music plainly enough where he stood, he walked hastily towards the dungeon, leaving Conan behind with the drinking-horn in his hand. No sooner had he gone out than Conan hid the drinking-horn under his cloak, and went to the dungeon after him. And when the giant saw him he said, "Why have you followed me; and what business have you here? Are you not my servant; and why have you come without being bidden by me?" "I thought," replied Conan, "that you were about to put the Fena to death; and I came to look at them once more before they died." Then suddenly Dryantore bethought him of the drinking-horn, and he said, "Where is the golden drinking-horn I gave you?" "I left it," said Conan, "just where I found it in the palace." The giant ran hastily towards the palace to secure the drinking-horn; and no sooner was he out of sight than Conan, drawing forth the horn, put it to the lips of each to drink, beginning with Finn. Only Finn and Oscar had drunk, when they heard the heavy steps of the giant running towards the dungeon; and now they saw that he was indeed inflamed with fury. Oscar seized his great, polished spear, and sprang to the door; and the others raised a mighty shout of joy; while Conan went on releasing the heroes one by one. When Dryantore saw Oscar, he uttered a roar of rage and disappointment; and then called aloud to Ailna to come to him. And she came forth; and when she saw how matters stood, she was seized with such grief and terror that she dropped down and died immediately. Glanlua was standing near at hand, rejoicing at the release of her husband and friends; but when she saw Ailna fall to the ground dead, she became sad, and, stooping down, wept over her. All this Oscar saw from where he stood; and it was with much ado he checked his tears. For though my son was the bravest of the heroes, and the most terrible in battle, he had a gentle heart, and never saw a woman or a child in distress without being moved to pity. But Conan felt not the least pity. On the contrary, he was very glad to see Ailna dead; and he told Oscar that it was very well she was out of the way, for that she was a vicious woman, and had wrought the Fena much trouble and woe. And now Oscar, casting his eyes again on Dryantore, hardened his heart for battle, and addressed the giant in these words--