"What need to tell you that this is the horse?" said the
stranger. "Take him: he is yours. He is Greyfell, the
shining hope that Odin sends to his chosen heroes."

And then Siegfried noticed that the horse's mane glimmered
and flashed like a thousand rays from the sun, and that his
coat was as white and clear as the fresh-fallen snow on the
mountains. He turner to speak to the stranger, but he was
nowhere to be seen and Siegfried bethought him how he had
talked with Odin unawares. Then he mounted the noble
Greyfell and rode with a light heart across the flowery
meadows.

"Whither ridest thou?" cried Gripir the ancient, from his
doorway among the crags.

"I ride into the wide world," said Siegfried; "but I know
not whither. I would right the wrong, and help the weak, and
make myself a name on the earth, as did my kinsmen of yore.
Tell me, I pray you, where I shall go; for you are wise, and
you know the things which have been, and those which shall
befall."

"Ride back to Regin, the master of masters," answered
Gripir. "He will tell thee of a wrong to be righted."

And the ancient son of the giants withdrew into his lonely
abode; and Siegfried, on the shining Greyfell, rode swiftly
away towards the south.