"It shall not be said that I failed you in peril." "I know it," I answered, putting my hand on his shoulder.
Then I went boldly, and stepped into the passage.

The whetstone sang shrill on the sword edge as it kissed the steel behind me, and the sound was good to hear as I went into darkness with my weapon ready.
I half feared that my first step would be my last, but it was made in safety.

Very black seemed the low stone-walled passage before me, and I had to stoop as I went on, feeling with my left hand along the wall.

The way was so narrow that little light could pass my body, and therefore it seemed to grow darker as I went deeper into the mound's heart.
Five steps I took, and then my outstretched hand was on the post that ended the passage, and beyond that I felt nothing.

I had come to the inner doorway, and before me was the place where Sigurd lay.
Yet no fiery eyes glared on me, and nothing stirred.