But since thou thinkest scorn of these weapons of a dead warrior, in go the old carle's treasures again! It is as well maybe; since he might be wrath beyond his wont if he were to wake and miss them; and already this cold cup of the once-boiling rock is not wholly safe because of him." So he crept into the hole once more, and out of it presently, and stood smiting his palms one against the other to dust them, like a man who has been handling parchments long laid by; and Hallblithe stood looking at him, still wrathful, but silent.
Then said the Puny Fox: "This at least was a wise word of thine, that thou wouldst not fight me.

For the end of fighting is slaying; and it is stark folly to fight without slaying; and now I see that thou desirest not to slay me: for if thou didst, why didst thou refuse to fall on me armed with the ghosts of weapons that I borrowed from a ghost?
Nay, why didst thou not slay me as I crept out of yonder hole?
Thou wouldst have had a cheap bargain of me either way.

It would be rank folly to fight me." Said Hallblithe hoarsely: "Why didst thou bewray me, and lie to me, and lure me away from the quest of my beloved, and waste a whole year of my life ?" "It is a long story," said the Puny Fox, "which I may tell thee some day.
Meantime I may tell thee this, that I was compelled thereto by one far mightier than I, to wit the Undying King." At that word the smouldering wrath blazed up in Hallblithe, and he drew his sword hastily and hewed at the Puny Fox: but he leapt aside nimbly and ran in on Hallblithe, and caught his sword-arm by the wrist, and tore the weapon out of his hand, and overbore him by sheer weight and stature, and drave him to the earth.

Then he rose up, and let Hallblithe rise also, and took his sword and gave it into his hand again and said: "Crag- nester, thou art wrathful, but little.

Now thou hast thy sword again and mayst slay me if thou wilt.