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what a rush of little feet, what a hurried dash is
made down the stairs, over the entry, and into the
kitchen! For in the dark upstairs, she has
remembered the stories told of the wicked Sintram, the
owner of the iron works at Fors, he who was in
league with the devil.
The bones of Sintram are at rest long years ago
in Svartsjö churchyard, but no one believes his soul
is with God, as is written on his tombstone.
As long as he lived, he was one of those men to
whose house on long, rainy Sunday afternoons there
came a heavy calash drawn by four black horses. A
darkly clad, elegant gentleman descended and went
in to help the master of the house while away with
cards and dice the dreary monotony of the hours
which were his despair. Those card parties were
kept up till after midnight, and when the stranger
drove away at dawn, he always left behind him some
gift which carried misfortune with it.
Yes, as long as Sintram lived, he was one of those
whose coming was heralded by unseen powers. One
of those whose shade went before them, their
carriages rolled into your courtyard, whips cracked,
their voices were heard on the steps, the hall door
opened and shut, the dogs were roused at the loud
noise they made, and yet there was no one, nothing
to be seen, it was only the apparition which always
preceded them.
Ugh, those fearful people whom the wicked
The bones of Sintram are at rest long years ago
in Svartsjö churchyard, but no one believes his soul
is with God, as is written on his tombstone.
As long as he lived, he was one of those men to
whose house on long, rainy Sunday afternoons there
came a heavy calash drawn by four black horses. A
darkly clad, elegant gentleman descended and went
in to help the master of the house while away with
cards and dice the dreary monotony of the hours
which were his despair. Those card parties were
kept up till after midnight, and when the stranger
drove away at dawn, he always left behind him some
gift which carried misfortune with it.
Yes, as long as Sintram lived, he was one of those
whose coming was heralded by unseen powers. One
of those whose shade went before them, their
carriages rolled into your courtyard, whips cracked,
their voices were heard on the steps, the hall door
opened and shut, the dogs were roused at the loud
noise they made, and yet there was no one, nothing
to be seen, it was only the apparition which always
preceded them.
Ugh, those fearful people whom the wicked
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