The Worm drew nearer and nearer, till at last it came up to the trough.  But when it sniffed the milk, it turned aside to the trough and swallowed all the milk up, and then slowly turned round and crossed the river Wear, and coiled its bulk three times round the Worm Hill for the night.

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.”

To the Wise Woman went the Childe, and asked her advice.

“’T is thy fault, O Childe, for which we suffer,” she said; “be it thine to release us.”

“I would give my life,” said the Childe.

“Mayhap thou wilt do so,” said she.  “But hear me, and mark me well.  Thou, and thou alone, canst kill the Worm.  But, to this end, go thou to the smithy and have thy armour studded with spear-heads.  Then go to the Worm’s Rock in the Wear, and station thyself there.  Then, when the Worm comes to the Rock at dawn of day, try thy prowess on him, and God gi’e thee a good deliverance.”

“This I will do,” said Childe Lambton.

“But one thing more,” said the Wise Woman, going back to her cell.  “If thou slay the Worm, swear that thou wilt put to death the first thing that meets thee as thou crossest again the threshold of Lambton Hall.  Do this, and all will be well with thee and thine.  Fulfil not thou vow, and none of the Lambtons, for generations three times three, shall die in his bed.  Swear, and fail not.”

The Childe swore as the Wise Woman bid, and went his way to the smithy.  There he had his armour studded with spear-heads all over.  Then he passed his vigils in Brugeford Chapel, and at dawn of day took his post on the Worm’s Rock in the River Wear.