n.
There he saw a splendid horse, all ready saddled, and just above it
hung a richly ornamented sword on the handle of which was engraved
these words: 'He who rides this horse and wears this sword will find
happiness.'

At the sight of the horse Sigurd was so filled with wonder that he was
not able to speak, but at last he gasped out: 'Oh, do let me mount him
and ride him round the house! Just once; I promise not to ask any more.'

'Ride him round the house!' cried Helga, growing pale at the mere idea.
'Ride Gullfaxi! Why father would never, never forgive me, if I let you
do that.'

'But it can't do him any harm,' argued Sigurd; 'you don't know how
careful I will be. I have ridden all sorts of horses at home, and have
never fallen off not once. Oh, Helga, do!'

'Well, perhaps, if you come back directly,' replied Helga, doubtfully;
'but you must be very quick, or father will find out!'

But, instead of mounting Gullfaxi, as she expected, Sigurd stood still.

'And the sword,' he said, looking fondly up to the place where it hung.
'My father is a king, but he has not got any sword so beautiful as that.
Why, the jewels in the scabbard are more splendid than the big ruby in
his crown! Has it got a name? Some swords have, you know.'

'It is called "Gunnfjoder," the "Battle Plume,"' answered Helga, 'and
"Gullfaxi" means "Golden Mane." I don't suppose, if you are to get on
the horse at all, it would matter your taking the sword too. And if you
take the sword you will have to carry the stick and the stone and the
twig as well.'

'They are easily carried,' said Sigurd, gazing at them with scorn; 'what
wretched dried-up things! Why in the world do you keep them?'

'Bather says that he would rather lose Gullfaxi than lose them,' replied
Helga, 'for if the man who rides the horse is pursued he has only to
throw the twig behind him and it will turn into a forest, so thick that
even a bird could hardly fly through. But if his enemy happens to know
magic, and can throw down the forest, the man has only to strike the
stone with the stick, and hailstones as large as pigeons' eggs will rain
down from the sky and will kill every one for twenty miles round.'

Having said all this she allowed Sigurd to ride 'just once' round the
house, taking the sword and other things with him. But when he had
ridden round, instead of dismounting, he suddenly turned the horse's
head and galloped away.

Soon after this Helga's father came home a