Towards the central part of the
heaven two or three stars shone with frosty brightness, and through a
few fleecy ribbons of greyish mist limmered the uncertain promise of a
faint moon.
Gueldmar smiled slightly. "Storm coming?" he answered almost gaily. "That
is well! Storm and I are old friends, my lad! Good night!"
Once more he touched his horned steeds, and with a jingle-jangle of
musical bells and a scudding, slippery hissing across the hard snow, the
sledge sped off with fairy-like rapidity, and in a few moments its one
little guiding lantern disappeared in the darkness like a suddenly
extinguished candle.
The Lapp stood pondering and gazing after it, with the _bonde's_ money
in his palm, till the cold began to penetrate even his thick
skin-clothing and his fat little body, well anointed with whale-oil
though it was,--and becoming speedily conscious of this, he scampered
with extraordinary agility, considering the dimensions of his
snow-shoes, into the hut where he had his dwelling, relating to all who
choose to hear, the news of old Lovisa Elsland's death, and the account
of his brief interview with the dreaded but generous pagan.
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