One time a peasant, en route to Jönköping with a load of rye, came just
at dusk to Ållaberg, where he discovered a grand mansion by the way.
“Maybe I can sell my rye here,” thought he, “and so be spared the
journey to Jönköping,” and, approaching the door, he knocked for
admittance.
The door was at once opened by some unseen power, and the peasant
entered.
Upon entering, he found himself in a grand hall. In the middle of the
floor stood a large table and upon the table lay twelve golden helmets,
grand beyond the power of description, and scattered around the room,
deep in slumber, were twelve knights in glittering armor.
The peasant contemplated his beautiful surroundings, but, concluding he
could not sell his rye here, went on, coming finally to a large stable,
where he found standing twelve most magnificent steeds, bedecked with
golden trappings and silver shoes on their hoofs, stamping in their
stalls.
Curiosity getting the better of him, he took hold of the bridle of one
of the horses in order to learn by what art it was made. Hardly had he
touched it when he heard a voice call out, “Is it time now?” and
another answer, “No, not yet!”
The peasant had now seen and heard as much as he desired, and,
thoroughly frightened, hastened away. When he came out he found that he
had been into the mountain instead of into a mansion, and that he had
seen the twelve knights who sleep there until the country shall be in
some great danger, when they will awake and help Sweden to defend
herself against her foreign enemies.