hou art always falling back anew, how wilt thou ever
gain the summit on this side the grave?"

Years came and went, and Biorn's hair was white as snow, and the youth
Sintram had reached the middle age. Old Rolf was now scarcely able to
leave the stone fortress; and sometimes he said: "I feel it a burden
that my life should yet be prolonged; but also there is much comfort in
it, for I still think the good God has in store for me here below some
great happiness; and it must be something in which you are concerned, my
beloved Sir Sintram, for what else in the whole world could rejoice me?"

But all remained as it was, and Sintram's fearful dreams at
Christmas-time each year rather increased than diminished in horror.
Again the holy season was drawing near, and the mind of the sorely
afflicted knight was more troubled than ever before. Sometimes, if he
had been reckoning up the nights till it should come, a cold sweat
would stand on his forehead, while he said, "Mark my words, dear old
foster-father, this time something most awfully decisive lies before
me."

One evening he felt an overwhelming anxiety about his father. It seemed
to him that the Prince of Darkness was going up to Biorn's castle; and
in vain did Rolf remind him that the snow was lying deep in the valleys,
in vain did he suggest that the knight might be overtaken by his
frightful dreams in the lonely mountains during the night-time. "Nothing
can be worse to me than remaining here would be," replied Sintram.

He took his horse from the stable and rode forth in the gathering
darkness. The noble steed slipped and stumbled and fell in the trackless
way, but his rider always raised him up, and urged him only more swiftly
and eagerly towards the object which he longed and yet dreaded to reach.
Nevertheless he might never have arrived at it had not his faithful
hound Skovmark kept with him. The dog sought out the lost track for his
beloved master, and invited him into it with joyous barkings, and warned
him by his howls against precipices and treacherous ice under the snow.
Thus they arrived about midnight at Biorn's castle. The windows of the
hall shone opposite to them with a brilliant light, as though some great
feast were kept there, and confused sounds, as of singing, met
their ears. Sintram gave his horse hastily to some retainers in
the court-yard, and ran up the steps, whilst Skovmark stayed by the
well-known horse.

A good esquire came towards Sintra