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.