“And how can I escape?” said the King of Ireland’s Son, “There’s only one way to escape,” said she, “and that is for you to take the Slight Red Steed that my father has secured under nine locks. That steed is the only creature that can bring you to your own country. I will show you how to get it and then I will ride to your home with you.” “And why should you do that?” said the King of Ireland’s Son. “Because I would marry you,” said Aefa. “But,” said he, “if I live at all Fedelma is the one I will marry.” No sooner did he say the words than Aefa screamed out, “Seize him, my cat-o’-the-mountain. Seize him and hold him.” Then the cat-o’-the-mountain that was under the table sprang across the room and fixed himself on his shoulder. He ran out of the house. All the time he was running the cat-o’-the-mountain was trying to tear his eyes out. He made his way through woods and thickets, and mighty glad he was when he saw the tank at the gable-end of the house. The cat-’o-the-mountain dropped from his back then. He got into the tank and waited and waited. No message came from Fedelma. He was a long time there, stiff and sore and hungry, before the sun rose and the Enchanter of the Black Back-Lands came out of the house. V “I hope you had a good night’s rest,” said the Enchanter of the Black Back-Lands, when he came to where the King of Ireland’s Son was crouched, just at the rising of the sun. “I had indeed,” said the King’s Son. “And I suppose you feel fit for another task,” said the Enchanter of the Black Back-Lands. “More fit than ever in my life before,” said the King of Ireland’s Son. The Enchanter of the Black Back-Lands took him past the goat-house and to where there was an open shelter for his bee-hives. “I want this shelter thatched,” said he, “and I want to have it thatched with the feathers of birds. Go,” said he, “and get enough feathers of wild birds and come back and thatch the bee-hive shelter for me, and let it be done before the set of sun.” He gave the King’s Son arrows and a bow and a bag to put the feathers in, and advised him to search the moor for birds. Then he went back to the house. The King of Ireland’s Son ran to the moor and watched for birds to fly across. At last one came. He shot at it with an arrow but did not bring it down. He hunted the moor all over but found no other bird. He hoped that he would see Fedelma before his head was taken off. Then he heard his name called and he saw Fedelma coming towards him. She looked at him as before with dread in thier eyes and asked him what task her father had set him. “A terrible task,” he said, and he told her what it was. Fedelma laughed. “I was in dread he would give you another task,” she said. “I can help you with this one. Sit down now and eat and drink from what I have brought you.”