Thankful enough were both of us when we found ourselves safe in the open air beneath the familiar stars.
"Now, how comes it, Freydisa," I asked, when we had got our breath again, "that this Wanderer, who showed himself so threateningly upon the crest of his grave, lies patient as a dead sheep within it while we rob his bones ?" "Because we were meant to take it, as I think, Olaf.

Now, help me to fill in the mouth of that hole roughly--I will return to finish this to-morrow--and let us away to the hall.

I am weary, and I tell you, Olaf, that the weight of things to come lies heavy on my soul.

I think wisdom dwells with that Wanderer's bones.

Yes, and foresight of the future and memories of the past.".