Professor Rubek.
We thought we would try, nevertheless. For it did not seem particularly hard at first.
Ulfheim.
No, at first nothing seems hard. But presently you may come to a tight place where you can neither get forward nor back. And then you stick fast, Professor! Mountain-fast, as we hunters call it.
Professor Rubek.
[Smiles and looks at him.] Am I to take these as oracular utterances, Mr. Ulfheim?
Ulfheim.
Lord preserve me from playing the oracle! [Urgently, pointing up towards the heights.] But don't you see that the storm is upon us? Don't you near the blasts of wind?
Professor Rubek.
[Listening.] They sound like the prelude to the Resurrection Day.
Ulfheim.
They are storm-blasts from the peaks, man! Just look how the clouds are rolling and sinking—soon they'll be all around us like a winding-sheet!
Irene.
[With a start and shiver.] I know that sheet!
