But I think we should not have cared very much if all our luggage
had been smashed on this journey, for the road now began to ascend,
and the views over the Etnadal, with its winding river, were of a
breadth and sweetness most consoling.  Up and up we went, curving in
and out through the forest, crossing wild ravines and shadowy dells,
looking back at every turn on the wide landscape bathed in golden
light.  At the station of Sveen, where we changed horse and postboy
again, it was already evening.  The sun was down, but the mystical
radiance of the northern twilight illumined the sky.  The dark fir-
woods spread around us, and their odourous breath was diffused
through the cool, still air.  We were crossing the level summit of
the plateau, twenty-three hundred feet above the sea.  Two tiny
woodland lakes gleamed out among the trees.  Then the road began to
slope gently towards the west, and emerged suddenly on the edge of
the forest, looking out over the long, lovely vale of Valders, with
snow-touched mountains on the horizon, and the river Baegna
shimmering along its bed, a thousand feet below us.

What a heart-enlarging outlook!  What a keen joy of motion, as the
wheels rolled down the long incline, and the sure-footed pony swung
between the shafts and rattled his hoofs merrily on the hard road!
What long, deep breaths of silent pleasure in the crisp night air!
What wondrous mingling of lights in the afterglow of sunset, and the
primrose bloom of the first stars, and faint foregleamings of the
rising moon creeping over the hill behind us!  What perfection of
companionship without words, as we rode together through a strange
land, along the edge of the dark!