"It is always unpleasant to be ignorant of the name of the person you
are entertaining," remarked the young girl.

"Before he re-enters the house, Hulda, be sure that you carry the
register into his room. Perhaps he will conclude to write his name in
it."

"Yes, mother."

Just at dusk a fine rain began to fall, so the stranger returned to
the inn. He asked for a small glass of brandy, then without saying
a word, or even bidding any one good-night, he took his wooden
candlestick, and entering his room bolted the door behind him, and
nothing further was heard from him that night.

The _skydskarl_ had taken refuge in the barn, where he was already
sound asleep in company with the sorrel horse.

Dame Hansen and her daughter rose with the sun the next morning, but
no sound came from the room of their guest, who was probably still
sleeping. A little after nine o'clock he made his appearance even more
glum and ill-tempered than the evening before, complaining that his
bed had been hard, and that the noise in the house had kept, him
awake; then he opened the door and looked out at the sky.

The prospect was not very cheering, certainly, for the wind was
blowing a gale, and the stranger concluded not to venture out. Still
he did not waste his time. With his pipe in his mouth he walked about
the inn as if trying to familiarize himself with the arrangement