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spirits seek! What was that big black hound seen at
Fors in Sintram’s time? It had awful gleaming
teeth and a long tongue, dripping with blood,
hanging out of its panting mouth! Once when the farm
men were in the kitchen having dinner, it came and
scratched at the kitchen door. All the servant girls
screamed with fright, but one of the biggest and
strongest of the men caught up a burning log from
the hearth, opened the door, and thrust it down the
dog’s throat.
It had rushed away, howling horribly, flames and
smoke pouring out of its mouth; sparks whirled
about it, and its footsteps on the road shone like
fire.
And was it not awful, too, that although Sintram
drove away upon his journeys with his black horses,
horses never brought him home again. When he
returned at night, black bulls drew his carriage.
People living by the roadside saw their long black
horns outlined against the sky, heard their
bellowing, and were terrified at the shower of sparks struck
out by their hoofs and the carriage wheels on the
dry gravel.
Yes, there was ample cause for the scurrying of
small feet over the wide floors of the garret.
Imagine if something dreadful, if he whose name it was
best not to mention were to come out of the dark
corner! You could not feel sure he would not do it.
It was not only to the wicked he showed himself.
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