Henceforth the Worm would cross the river every day, and woe betide the
Hall if the trough contained the milk of less than nine kye. The Worm
would hiss, and would rave, and lash its tail round the trees of the
park, and in its fury it would uproot the stoutest oaks and the loftiest
firs. So it went on for seven years. Many tried to destroy the Worm, but
all had failed, and many a knight had lost his life in fighting with
the monster, which slowly crushed the life out of all that came near it.
At last the Childe of Lambton came home to his father's Hall, after
seven long years spent in meditation and repentance on holy soil. Sad
and desolate he found his folk: the lands untilled, the farms deserted,
half the trees of the park uprooted, for none would stay to tend the
nine kye that the monster needed for his food each day.
The Childe sought his father, and begged his forgiveness for the curse
he had brought on the Hall.
"Thy sin is pardoned," said his father; "but go thou to the Wise Woman
of Brugeford, and find if aught can free us from this monster.
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