"What do you think is the time, my lad?"
"I don't know, my watch has stopped. And then I have no light either. It must be seven o'clock at least. But you're not thinking of going on to-night, sir?"
"I must."
"You'll never get to Thingvellir, sir. It was bad enough for me with my back to the storm, but it will be ten times worse for you with your face to it. You'll be lost. Your friends will see no more of you."
"Good night! Take the boy back to Reykjavik in the morning."
Out on the snowfield again Christian Christiansson was conscious of nothing but a headlong impulse to go on. The saddle was damp, and he had a sensation of riding in cold water; the snow was deeper than before, and sometimes his horse stumbled up to its girths; the darkness was now the darkness of night, and it was with difficulty that he could follow the line of the beacons; the wind hurled itself against his body, the snow slung itself against his face, but still he strained along, for a new and inspiring thought had come to him.
The Almighty was fighting on his side in his fierce war with the elements! The devilish powers of Nature had been trying to keep him back from saving his people, and when he reached the House of Rest they had lulled him into a false repose, but God had sent the farm-servant to warn him that his dear ones were still in danger, and that if he stayed there until morning he would arrive at his journey's end too late! Thinking so, his heart grew strong, for he felt himself in the immediate presence of Him who was greater than the greatest tempest.
But after some two hours had passed the sacred fire of this theory began to fail him. He was growing faint, and the beatings of his heart were suffocating; he was also losing his way in the deepening snow, and when his mare stumbled into the drifts he was scarcely strong enough to drag her out of them. Then, before he was aware of it, the voices of Nature were speaking to him again.
"Why did you leave the House of Rest? The Sheriff may be at the farm, but no buyers can get there to-night, and without people to bid there can be no auction."
Just as this thought came to him he saw a red speck gleaming through the darkness, and he turned his horse's head in the direction of the light. It proved to be in the window of a farm-house, and finding the door he shouted, and presently a man came out to him.