_Come thou to the Mountain Hall by the path which thou knowest of_, _on the morrow of the day whereon thou readest this_. _Rise betimes and come armed_, _for there are other men than we in the wood_; _to whom thy death should be a gain_. _When thou art come to the Hall_, _thou shalt find no man therein_; _but a great hound only_, _tied to a bench nigh the daïs_. _Call him by his name_, _Sure-foot to wit_, _and give him to eat from the meat upon the board_, _and give him water __to drink_. _If the day is then far spent_, _as it is like to be_, _abide thou with the hound in the hall through the night_, _and eat of what thou shalt find there_; _but see that the hound fares not abroad till the morrow’s morn_: _then lead him out and bring him to the north-east corner of the Hall_, _and he shall lift the slot for thee that leadeth to the Shadowy Yale_. _Follow him and all good go with thee_. Now when he had read this, earth seemed fair indeed about him, and he scarce knew whither to turn or what to do to make the most of his joy. He presently went back to Burgstead and into the House of the Face, where all men were astir now, and the day was clearing. He hid the shaft under his kirtle, for he would not that any should see it; so he went to his shut-bed and laid it up in his chest, wherein he kept his chiefest treasures; but the writing on the scroll he set in his bosom and so hid it. He went joyfully and proudly, as one who knoweth more tidings and better than those around him. But Stone-face beheld him, and said ‘Foster-son, thou art happy. Is it that the spring-tide is in thy blood, and maketh thee blithe with all things, or hast thou some new tidings? Nay, I would not have an answer out of thee; but here is good rede: when next thou goest into the wood, it were nought so ill for thee to have a valiant old carle by thy side; one that loveth thee, and would die for thee if need were; one who might watch when thou wert seeking. Or else beware! for there are evil things abroad in the Wood, and moreover the brethren of those two felons who were slain at Carlstead.’ Then Gold-mane constrained himself to answer the old carle softly; and he thanked him kindly for his offer, and said that so it should be before long. So the talk between them fell, and Stone-face went away somewhat well-pleased. And now was Face-of-god become wary; and he would not draw men’s eyes and speech on him; so he went afield with Hall-face to deal with the lambs and the ewes, and did like other men. No less wary was he in the hall that even, and neither spake much nor little; and when his father spake to him concerning the Bride, and made game of him as a somewhat sluggish groom, he did not change countenance, but answered lightly what came to hand.