"Of course we all want to get back to the ship as soon as possible," added Sanford, rubbing his chin, significantly.

"Certainly. She has gone to Gottenburg, and all we have to do is to follow her," said Churchill.

"But if you want to go there by the way of the Cape of Good Hope, Sanford, it will be better to have the matter understood so in the beginning," added Burchmore. "I, for one, don't like to be bamboozled."

"I won't try it on again," said Sanford.

"All right, then; if you do, you may fetch up at Cape Horn."

"Where shall we go now?" asked Sanford.

"To the Victoria Hotel. It is the best in the place," replied Clyde.

"That's the very reason why we don't want to go there. We are not made of money, and we may run out before we are able, with our utmost exertions, to reach the ship," added the cashier.

"But my mother is there," continued Clyde.

"Go to your mother, Great Britain, if you like. We shall stay at some cheap hotel," added Sanford.

Clyde protested in vain against this arrangement, and the Americans, with the aid of Ole, found a small hotel, suited to their views of economy. The Briton went with them; but when they were installed in their new quarters, he left them to find his mother, at the Victoria. After dinner, the coxswain and his party wandered all over the city. At the Castle of Agerhaus, they saw an English steamer receiving freight. They ascertained that she was bound to Gottenburg, and would sail at seven o'clock that evening. They immediately decided, as they had seen enough of Christiania, to take passage in her. The arrangement was speedily made, and they went on board, without troubling themselves to inform Clyde of what they intended to do. When the sun went down that evening the party were far down the fjord.

Sanford had ascertained that the ship sailed early on Thursday morning, and the steamer on which they had taken passage could not arrive at Gottenburg till nearly noon on Saturday. It was understood that the squadron would remain but a short time at this port, and it was possible that it would have departed for Copenhagen before the steamer arrived. He hoped this would prove to be the case; but he studied a plan by which the excursion of the party could be prolonged, if the hope should not be realized. He did not wish to return to the ship, because he thought it was pleasanter to travel without the restraints of discipline. Perhaps most of his party sympathized with him, and thought they could have a better time by themselves. Sanford desired to inform Clyde of the intention of the party to leave in the English steamer, and to take him along with them; but his companions overruled him unanimously, for they were too glad to get rid of an impudent, overbearing, and conceited puppy, as he had proved himself to be. The coxswain had no better opinion of him than his friends; but as Clyde was a runaway, according to his own confession, it might smooth their own way, in returning to their duty, if they could deliver him up to the principal. He was even willing to resort to strategy to accomplish this end; but Clyde was so disagreeable that he was saved from this trap.

The ship had gone, and every vessel of the squadron had departed with her. Clyde felt that all his trials were ended, and he had nothing more to fear from the big boatswain. He walked confidently to the Victoria Hotel, where he was sure to find his mother. He had even arranged in his mind the reproaches with which he intended to greet her for delivering him over to the savage discipline of the Young America, as he regarded it, and as, doubtless, it was for evil-doers. He passed into the passage-way which led to the court-yard. As he entered the office on the right to inquire for Mrs. Blacklock, he encountered Peaks, who no sooner saw him than he laid violent hands upon him.

"Let me alone!" shouted Clyde, struggling to escape from the grasp of his powerful antagonist.

"Not yet, my beauty," replied the boatswain, as he dragged his victim into his own room, which was near the office. "I've been looking for you."

"I want to see my mother," growled Clyde, when he had exhausted his strength in the fruitless struggle to escape.

"I dare say you do; babies always want to see their mothers."

"I'm not a baby."

"Then behave like a man."

Peaks deposited him on a chair, and permitted him to recover his breath.

"Where is my mother?" demanded Clyde.

"She is safe and well, and you needn't bother your head to know anything more about her," answered Peaks. "She has turned over a new leaf, so far as you are concerned, youngster, and is going to have us make a man of you."

"Where is she?"

"No matter where she is."

"Can't I see her?"

"No, sir."

"I must see her."

"Perhaps you must, my hearty; but I don't think she wants to see you till you are a decent young gentleman. She told me to be sure and put you on board of the ship, and I'm going to do it."

"Where is the ship?"

"She sailed for Gottenburg yesterday morning; but we shall find her in good time," replied Peaks, taking a bundle from the bureau, which contained the young Briton's uniform. "Now, my bantam, you don't look like a gentleman in that rig you've got on. Here's your gear; put it on, and look like a man again, whether you are one or not. Those long togs don't become you."

The boatswain unfolded the uniform of Clyde, which he had left in his chamber when he leaped out of the window.

"I'm not going to put on those clothes," protested the unhappy youth.

"No?"

"I'm not!"

"Then I'm going to put them on for you."

"I'll cry murder."

"If you cry anything, I shall put a dirty handkerchief in your mouth. Look here, my chicken; don't you know that you are making a fool of yourself? You mean to strain your own timbers for nothing. You'll put this rig on anyhow, and it depends on yourself whether you will do it with or without a broken head."

Clyde looked at the clothes and then at the brawny boatswain. It was foolish to resist, and he yielded to the force of circumstances. He put on the ship's uniform, and threw himself into a chair to await the further pleasure of his tyrant.

"Now you look like a respectable young gentleman, my lad," said Peaks.

"What are you going to do with me?" demanded Clyde, in a surly tone.

"I'm going to keep my eye on you every moment of the time till you are on board of the ship again."

"I want to see my mother before I go."

"It can't be done."

Clyde relapsed into silence. He had never before been subjected to such unheard-of tyranny. It was useless to resist, and the future looked as dark as the present. Probably his mother was in the hotel, but he was not permitted even to see her. Though the boatswain seemed to have it all his own way, he was not at all satisfied with the situation. Mrs. Blacklock and her daughter had gone to ride, but in the course of an hour or two they would return. The waiters would inform her that Clyde had arrived, and she would insist on seeing him. Though she had fully given up the control of him to the ship, the weakness of the mother might induce her to change her mind. Peaks only desired to discharge the duty with which he had been intrusted. The crew of the second cutter had not yet arrived, and he could not depart with his prisoner before they came. He was perplexed; but being a man of expedients, he decided upon his course in a short time. It was absolutely necessary to seek another hotel, where the dangerous proximity of Mrs. Blacklock might be avoided. The boatswain rang his bell, and sent for the commissionnaire whom he had employed while prosecuting his search for the runaway. When this man came, he ordered a carriage, and paid his bill.

"Now, youngster, we are going to take a ride," said Peaks to his victim.

"Where are you going?"

"That's my affair. If you make a row in the street, I shall just hand you over to the police, who will lock you up in that stone castle over there. You must understand that you are a deserter from your ship, and will be treated so, if you don't behave like a man. Now come with me."

As a deserter from his ship! The boatswain certainly had the weather-gage of him, and the idea of being thrown into prison was absolutely startling to Clyde. He had no doubt the savage boatswain would do all he threatened, and, almost for the first time in his life, he felt no inclination to bully. He stepped quietly into the carriage with Peaks and the commissionnaire. The driver was directed to convey the party to the landing-place. The steamer would sail the next morning; but unless the absent crew of the cutter arrived before that time, he could not go in her. Remaining in Christiania, he feared to encounter Mrs. Blacklock, for the honest tar dreaded a lady's power more than the whole battery of a ship of the line. He was fully resolved, if he passed through fire and water in doing it, to discharge the duty intrusted to him by the principal. The lady was in the city, and the problem was to keep his charge out of sight of her during the rest of his stay. He might meet her; some one at the hotel might, and probably would, inform her of the arrival of Clyde.

After deliberating for some time, he directed his commissionnaire to procure a boat, in which he embarked with his prisoner and interpreter. By his order the two oarsmen pulled over to the hotel which was located so picturesquely on the island. Taking a room, he ordered dinner for his little party, and contrived to pass away the afternoon till sunset, when he returned to the city. His man, at his request, conducted him to an obscure hotel, which happened to be the one which Sanford and his friends had just left, to depart by the English steamer. The landlord recognized the uniform which Clyde wore.

"We had more of the young gentleman here," said he, in broken English.

"More of them!" exclaimed Peaks, interested in the intelligence.

"Yes; more as ten of them," added the landlord.

"Arn't they here now?" asked Clyde, who had felt a ray of hope when Peaks brought him to the hotel where he had left his late companions.

"All gone; no more here."

"Where have they gone?" asked the boatswain.

"To Gottenburg. They eat some dinner in my hotel, and at seven o'clock they go in the steamer."

"I saw that steamer go out, but I didn't think the cutter's crew were in her. I'm sorry I didn't know it before," said Peaks, chagrined by this tardy discovery. "How many were there of them?"

"Ten."

"That couldn't be; there were only nine of the crew."

"There was more as ten, but one of them went away."

"I went away," said Clyde.

"You! Were you with them?" demanded Peaks.

"I was."

"Why didn't you say so before?"

"You didn't ask me; and as you were not remarkably civil to me, I didn't feel obliged to tell you the news."

"But there were not ten of them."

"Yes, ten," said Clyde.

"There were only nine when they left the ship."

"I know there were ten with me. One of them was a Norwegian, and a rascal; but he wore the same uniform as the rest of them."

"What was his name?"

"Ole."

"Ole! Why, he's the fellow we picked up out at sea," exclaimed the astonished boatswain. "Where have they been all this time?"

But Clyde suddenly bethought himself that he was altogether too communicative, considering the relations that subsisted between himself and his great enemy and persecutor, and he decided to answer no more questions.

"All right, my hearty," laughed the boatswain, when the Briton declined to answer. "They are on their way to the ship, and you will be very soon."

Peaks was cunning enough to detain his interpreter so that he should not return to the Victoria and inform Mrs. Blacklock where her son was. The way was clear now, for he had no further responsibility in regard to the cutter's crew, and his spirits rose accordingly. He sent his man to engage a "huette," or state-room, in the steamer, and then, at a late hour in the evening, paid and discharged him. He compelled Clyde to sleep in the same chamber with him, for it contained three beds, and it is probable that the boatswain kept one eye open during the night, for every time the prisoner moved, his tyrant was on his feet. The Kronprindsesse Louise sailed at six o'clock in the morning, and Peaks and his victim were betimes on board. The boatswain was a happy man when the boat was clear of the wharf, and on her way to Gottenburg. He flattered himself that he had managed the affair very well indeed, for he was not above the vanities of the flesh.

It was midnight when the Kronprindsesse arrived at her destination. Peaks had kept one eye on Clyde all the time, and brought him in safety to his journey's end. Late as was the hour, the first person he saw at the landing was Mr. Blaine, the chief steward of the ship.

"I'm glad to see you, Blaine," shouted the boatswain when he identified his shipmate, and grasped his hand. "Shiver my timbers if I'm not rejoiced to see a man that speaks plain English! Where's the ship?"

"She sailed for Copenhagen this evening."

"No; you don't say so!"

"It's a fact. The students went up the canal as far as the falls, and returned about dark. The squadron got under way at once. I suppose you have the cutter's crew with you, Peaks?"

"No; arn't they on board yet?"

"I haven't seen them."

"But they came down on an English steamer that left Christiania last night."

"An English steamer came in this forenoon, but we haven't seen the cutter's crew."

"That's strange. I shouldn't wonder if those fellows were cutting up a little."

"But we lost two students yesterday, Scott and Laybold. I suppose they ran away."

"There's a screw loose somewhere. These boys have too much money," added Peaks. "But what are you going to do, and what am I to do?"

"I was left here to look out for Scott and Laybold, and meet you when you came. Now, it seems that about a dozen of the rascals are missing."

"I have the Briton here."

"If I were you, Peaks, I should go right on to Copenhagen in this steamer, and you can report the facts to the principal."

The boatswain decided to do this, while the head steward remained to search for the absentees; and in due time Peaks delivered his prisoner on board of the ship in the harbor of Copenhagen.



CHAPTER XIII.

THE MEETING OF THE ABSENTEES.

Scott and Laybold, after imbibing a single glass of "finkel" each, which proved to be more than they could carry, retreated into a narrow lane, to escape the observation of a party of officers who were on their way to the landing. Neither of them had any inclination for intoxicating drinks, and had taken the stuff without knowing what it was. But they were conscious that everything was not right with them. They found it quite impossible to walk in a straight line, and even the problem of standing up was not demonstrated to the entire satisfaction of either of them. Talking was not without its difficulties, for their tongues seemed to be double their ordinary thickness, and their lips and other organs of speech were not as manageable as usual. For a time the effects of the potent liquor increased upon them, and as they had taken it in a hungry condition, they realized its full power.

They staggered up the lane, conscious that they were making a ridiculous figure, though the solemn Swedes hardly smiled as they observed the effects of the national beverage. They dreaded an encounter with any of the officers, or others connected with the squadron; but in this unfrequented lane they were not likely to meet any of their shipmates. As there is more power in four legs than in two, however weak in detail they may be, the tipsy students locked arms, and leaned on each other, one attempting to counteract the obliquities of the other. They wandered along without knowing whither they were going, till they came to a small public house, which had a bench in front of it for the accommodation of the topers who frequented the bar-room. By mutual consent, and without argument, the unfortunate couple aimed for this seat as soon as they saw it, for it promised a grateful respite from the perils of locomotion. The "finkel" was now doing its utmost upon them. Their heads were dizzy, and everything was wofully uncertain; still they knew what they were about, and had sense enough left to dread the consequences of their indiscretion. After they had seated themselves, they glanced at each other, as if to ascertain the condition one of the other.

"Lay—bold," said Scott.

"Well, old fellow," replied the other, with a desperate attempt to stiffen his muscles.

"We're zrunk," added Scott, trying to laugh.

"I know that."

"We're very zrunk."

"I'm not zbad zyou."

"I don't zknow."

The conversation extended no further then, for speech required an effort they were incapable of making. Scott gaped violently, and seemed to be sick; but his contortions ended in his falling asleep, with his head tipped back against the wall. Laybold, more nice in the disposition of his helpless body, stretched himself on the bench, and was soon lost to all consciousness of the outer world. The publican who kept the house came out and looked at the juvenile tipplers. Doubtless he had seen too many drunken sailors to misapprehend their condition. He understood the matter perfectly, and being a thrifty Swede, he was disposed to turn their condition to his own emolument. He had sundry vacant chambers in his hotel, whose revenues swelled the sum total of his annual profits, and it hurt his feelings to have them remain unoccupied. Besides, the air was chilly, and the young strangers might take cold, and contract a severe illness by such exposure. But whether he was a publican or a Samaritan in his intentions, he decided to remove the strangers to the rooms beneath his hospitable roof. Summoning the porter to his aid, they jointly bore Laybold to his apartment, and laid him on the bed, which, in spite of the low character of the house, was a model of Swedish neatness. When Scott's turn came, he offered some resistance to the good intentions of the publican; but his head was too thoroughly muddled for successful opposition. Between the effects of sleep and "finkel" he could not obtain a very clear idea of what was going on. He was placed on another bed in the room with his shipmate. They were both comfortably disposed on their clean couches, the pillows nicely adjusted beneath their heads, and their bodies covered with blankets.

The two students were very tired as well as very tipsy, and their slumbers were deep and heavy. It was after nine o'clock, though it was still light in the chamber, and the young tars usually retired, when not on watch, before this seemly hour. "Finkel" and fatigue did the rest, and they slept, without rocking, till long after the early sun broke into the windows of their apartment. We have seen the effect of "finkel" upon one unaccustomed to the use of liquor, and upon boys of fifteen or sixteen it could not but be entirely overpowering. It is a dangerous fluid, and is taken by the Swedes at all times, being the first thing at meals, and especially at the inevitable "snack" that precedes a regular dinner. There is, doubtless, good ground for the fear which has been expressed that the people of Sweden are in danger of becoming "a nation of drunkards."

Scott was the first to open his eyes and come to his senses. He raised himself in the bed, shook off the blanket, and then jumped out upon the floor. He did not comprehend the situation, and was unable, in his own words, to "figure up how he happened to be in that room."

"Laybold, ahoy!" shouted he, after he had examined the apartment, and mentally confessed his inability to solve the problem. "Laybold! All hands on deck!"

"What is the matter?" cried Laybold, springing up, only half awake.

"I'll be muzzled if I know what the matter is, but I believe that the Norway god—what's his name?—Odin, came aboard the ship last night, and turned her into a country tavern," replied Scott, going to the window, and looking down into the lane below.

"How came we here?" asked Laybold, rubbing his eyes.

"That's more than I know; but I think we have been transplanted by the spirits."

"The spirits?" gaped Laybold.

"Yes; I believe they call them 'finkel.' We were tight last night, my boy."

"I remember all about it now. I dreamed that somebody lugged me in here."

"You didn't exactly dream it, for here we are. We are in a pretty scrape."

"That's so," added Laybold, shaking his head. "We didn't mean to run away, but that's just what we have done."

"We didn't run a great way; for, if I remember rightly, running wasn't our forte last evening. Who runs may reel, if he can't read, and I reckon we did more reeling than running. But what's to be done?"

"I don't know."

"In the first place, where are we? It's no use to lay out a course till we know the ship's position."

They were utterly unable to determine this question. Each of them had a tolerably vivid recollection of their unfortunate condition on the preceding evening, and even that he had been carried by a couple of men; but they had no idea of time or locality. They washed themselves at the sink in the room, combed their hair with their pocket-combs, and looked then as though nothing had happened. Their heads were a little light, but they did not absolutely ache, and they realized but a small portion of the after effects of a regular "spree." Having made their simple toilet, they decided to explore the premises, and make their way back to the ship. Leaving the chamber, they descended a flight of steps, and, in the hall below, encountered the Samaritan landlord.

"God morgon," said the latter, with a jolly smile on his face; and it was probable that he had taken his morning dose of "finkel." "Hur star det till?" (How are you?)

"Nix," replied Scott, shrugging his shoulders.

"You are English," added the landlord, a large portion of whose customers were foreign sailors.

"No; Americans."

"I'm glad to see you."

"I'm glad to see you, too, if you can tell us how we happen to be here."

"Too much 'finkel,'" laughed the publican, as he proceeded to explain the situation, and to enlarge upon the fatherly interest which had induced him to take them in for the night.

"All right, my hearty. I see you can keep a hotel," added Scott. "How much have we to pay?"

"Two rigsdalers; but you want some breakfast."

"I do, for one," replied Scott.

"So do I," said Laybold. "We only had a little lunch last night, and that 'finkel' spoiled my appetite—or the fish spawn. I don't know which."

About five o'clock they sat down to breakfast, which consisted of a great variety of little things, such as the small fishes, herrings, smoked salmon, sausages. The coffee was magnificent, as it generally is in Sweden, even on board of steamers, where, in our own country, it is least expected to be good.

"What is this?" said Scott, taking up half a great brown biscuit.

"That's Swedish bread. We bake it once in six months," replied the landlord.

"Not bad," added Scott, as he tasted the article.

"This is Graham bread, I suppose," said Laybold, as he took a slice of the coarse brown bread. "Bah! it's sour."

It always is; and both the students rejected it, though they ate a hearty meal of white bread, herring, salmon, and sausage.

"Now, how much?" asked Scott, when they were ready to go.

"One rigsdaler and fifty oere each—three rigsdalers in all."

"Cheap enough," said Scott. "Two lodgings and two breakfasts for eighty-one cents."

The students walked through the lane in which they had made their devious way the night before, to the main street on the canal. At the landing-place there were no boats belonging to the squadron, and everything looked exceedingly quiet on board of the ship. Seating themselves on the pier, with their legs hanging over the water, they decided to wait till a boat came to the shore.

"We shall catch it for this," said Laybold.

"No more liberty for a month at least," said Scott, shrugging his shoulders after his fashion.

"I don't think it's fair. We didn't mean to get drunk, and didn't know what 'finkel' was," added Laybold. "I don't half like to go on board again."

"Nor I; but I suppose we must face the music," answered Scott, dubiously. "I'm glad we didn't go on board while we were boozy. The fellows would have laughed at us for a year, if we had."

"That's so; and Lowington would have put us in the brig."

"I don't exactly like to explain the reason why we didn't go on board last night; I always was a bashful fellow."

"You didn't go with the others," said a man, coming up to them at this moment, and speaking in broken English.

"What others? Where?" replied Scott.

"The other students. They took the steamer up the canal at two o'clock this morning."

"Whew!" whistled Scott. "We have lost Goeta Canal and the falls."

"They will return to-night by the railroad from Wenersberg," added the man, who was an agent of the canal steamers.

"That's too bad!" exclaimed Laybold, as the man walked away.

"I don't know that it is too bad. Our leave would have been stopped if we had gone on board," laughed Scott, who generally took the most cheerful view of any disagreeable subject. "Why can't we go on our own hook?"

"I like that idea," added Laybold.

But inquiring of the agent, they learned that the canal steamers left only at two o'clock in the morning.

"There's a railroad, or the fellows couldn't come back that way," suggested Laybold.

"That's so; you have more wisdom than a Duxbury clam."

They ascertained that a train left Gottenburg at noon, by which they could reach Wenersberg the same day. They knew nothing of the plan of the principal, which included a special train from the canal to the main line of railway; but they desired to see more of the interior of Sweden, and they were confident they should see the excursionists either at Wenersberg or on the way. It suited them better to make a trip even for a few hours, than to wander about a city which they had already exhausted. But they were obliged to wait some time for the train, and, after a couple of hours of "heavy loafing" about the streets, they returned to the pier. An English steamer had just arrived, and a boat was landing her passengers.

"Who are those fellows?" said Laybold, pointing to the steamer's boat. "They wear the ship's uniform."

"Right; they do, and they came from that steamer," replied Scott.

"There's Sanford! I should know him a mile off. They are the second cutters, or I am a Dutchman."

"Right again," added Scott, as the passengers landed.

The steamer was the one in which Sanford and his companions had taken passage at Christiania the evening before. The absentees, "on a cruise without running away," were sorry to see the ship at anchor in the harbor, for some of them had hoped to be too late for her. When they landed, the first persons they encountered were Scott and Laybold, who gave them a very cordial greeting. Each party had a story to tell of its own adventures, and Scott knew Sanford and his associates too well to think it necessary to conceal from them the fact that he and Laybold had been the sad victims of "finkel."

"But why don't you go on board?" asked Burchmore.

"What's the use? All the fellows have gone up to Wobblewopkins, or some other place, to see the falls, and take an inside view of Sweden," replied Scott. "We intend to go and do likewise."

"Won't you go with us?" added Laybold.

The intentions of the two were explained to the others, and they all decided to join the party. Sanford was not without a hope that something would occur to prolong the "independent trip without running away."

"How are you off for stamps?" asked Burchmore of the two who were by this arrangement added to his party, for which he had thus far done the financiering.

"We have a little Swedish money, and some sovereigns," replied Scott.

"But how many sovereigns? We may be prevented from joining the ship for a few days, and we want to know where we are in money matters," interposed Sanford.

"We have enough to buy out one or two of these one-horse kingdoms, like Denmark and Sweden. I have twenty sovereigns, and Laybold has about a thousand," answered Scott.

"No I haven't," protested Laybold, laughing at the extravagance of his friend. "I have only twenty-five sovereigns."

"And a letter of credit for a thousand more; so it's the same thing."

"No, no; knock off one cipher, Scott."

"Well, seeing it's you, I'll knock off just one; but not another to please any fellow, even if he were my grandmother's first cousin," added Scott.

"There's some difference between a hundred and a thousand pounds," suggested Sanford.

"A slight difference," said Laybold.

"I don't expect any of us will live long enough to spend a hundred pounds in this country, which is about eighteen hundred of these tricks-bunker dollars, to say nothing of a thousand. Why, we paid only three bunkers for two lodgings and two breakfasts. How's a fellow ever to spend eighteen hundred bunkers? For my part, I think I'm lucky in having less than four hundred of the things to get rid of."

"But you needn't feel under the necessity of spending all your money in this country," laughed the cashier.

"My father promised to send me some more; but I hope he won't do it till I get out of Sweden. If he does I shall be ruined. Here's poor Laybold, with a letter of credit for a hundred pounds, besides twenty-five in cash. I pity the poor fellow. It wouldn't be so bad in London, where it costs a fellow from ten to twenty shillings a day to breathe."

"I think I shall be able to survive," added Laybold.

"I hope so; but you ought to hear him talk about his bankers. Topsails and topping-lifts! His bankers! Messrs. Pitchers Brothers & Co."

"No! Bowles Brothers & Co," interposed Laybold.

"It's all the same thing; there isn't much difference between bowls and pitchers. One breaks as easy as the other."

"But my bankers don't break."

"His bankers! Do you hear that? Well, I don't believe they'll break, for all my folks, when they travel in Europe, carry the same letter of credit in their trousers pocket. I had to write to my paternal parent all last year, care of Bowles Brothers & Co., 449 Strand, Charing Cross, W. C. London, England. You see I've learned my lesson."

"My letters from home come through the same house," said Laybold, "and so do those of fifty other fellows."

"About the money matters," interposed Burchmore. "Shall I act for the crowd, as I did in Norway?"

"For me, yes; and I hope you'll help Laybold out on the big financial job he has on his hands," said Scott.

"All right," added Laybold.

"I have settled up for the fellows on the Norway trip. Now, each of you give me a couple of sovereigns, which I will change into Swedish money."

This arrangement was made to the satisfaction of all, and the cashier went to an exchange office, where he procured Swedish paper for the gold.

"Scott, I shouldn't wonder if the principal saved you the trouble of spending your twenty pounds before we go much farther," said Sanford.

"I shall thank him with tears in my eyes if he does," replied Scott, with a solemn look.

"I don't believe you will. When the ship came over before, every fellow had to give up his money, and the purser doled it out to the fellows in shillings or sixpences when they went ashore."

"I'm sure it was very kind of him to take so much trouble."

"You don't think so."

"Of course I do. Only think of poor Laybold, with a letter of credit for a hundred pounds on his hands! I'm thankful I haven't the responsibility of spending so much money on my conscience. I should apply for admission to the first lunatic asylum, if I had to spend so much."

"Nonsense! I made up my mind not to give up my money," said the coxswain. "That rule made plenty of rows on the other cruise, and I expect the fellows on this cruise will be called upon to give up their stamps very soon."

"I was going to say we could get even with the principal by spending it all before we go on board again; but we are in Sweden, and it is quite impossible. They won't let you pay more than seventy-five cents or a dollar for a day's board in this country."

"You went to a sailor's boarding-house, Scott. When you are at a first-class hotel, you will find that they bleed you enough."

"I hope they do better than the landlord where we staid last night; if they don't I shall make money in Sweden. Why, they wouldn't even pick our pockets when we were boozy on 'finkel.' I'm sure they are a great deal more accommodating at sailors' boarding-houses in Boston and New York."

"Come, be serious, Scott. Shall you give up your money when you return to the ship?"

"Cheerfully, for there is no chance to get rid of it in this country."

"But you will want some in Russia, where everything is dear."

"I'm afraid my letter of credit will arrive by that time, and I shall be burdened with new trials."

"Poor fellow!"

The old rule of the ship had not been enforced on the present cruise, and the principal did not intend to renew it until it was absolutely necessary. It had caused much complaint among the wealthy parents of the former students, while it had wonderfully improved the discipline; but Mr. Lowington consented to make the experiment of permitting every boy to manage his own finances.

At noon the party took their places in a second-class compartment of the carriage on the railway, and started for Wenersberg. Ole spoke Swedish as well as Norwegian, and acted as interpreter. Sanford had made peace with the waif, who was now as popular as ever with all the party. Each of them, in turn, had tried to induce Ole to tell how he happened to be in that boat at sea; but he still refused to explain.

The train moved off, and the tourists observed the country through which it passed; but Scott could not help grumbling because the fare was only about a dollar and a quarter for fifty miles, declaring that he should never be able to get rid of his twenty sovereigns at this rate, and that he was threatened with a letter of credit for a hundred more at St. Petersburg. At Herrljunga, the junction of the branch to Wenersberg and the main line, the guard insisted that the tourists should leave the carriage.

"How's this, Ole?" asked Sanford.

"Change for Wenersberg; but the train don't start till five o'clock. We must wait two hours."

"But what time does it get to Wenersberg?"

"About half past eight."

"That's a pretty go!" exclaimed the coxswain. "You made a beautiful arrangement for this trip, Scott."

"What's the matter now?"

"We cannot get to Wenersberg till half past eight; and of course that will be too late to join the ship's company there."

"It isn't necessary to join them there. We shall meet them on the way, and go back with them. They will be at this place some time this afternoon."

"What did we come up here for?" asked Sanford.

"In the first place, to get rid of four or five rix-bunkers; and in the second, to see something of this part of Sweden. We have done both, and ought to be satisfied."

"O, I'm satisfied!"

"You ought to be; you have four and a half bunkers less to spend. We will loaf about this place till the principal comes with the crowd, and when he sees what good boys we have been to look him up, and see that he didn't get lost, he'll forgive Laybold and me for drinking 'finkel.'"

"All right. What time does the train leave for Gottenburg, Ole?" added the coxswain, turning to the interpreter.

"Half past five," replied the waif.

No one took the trouble to examine the time-table in the station-house, which, though in Swedish, was perfectly intelligible so far as it related to hours and towns.

The tourists decided to improve the time they were obliged to wait by taking a walk about the country, examining Swedish houses and investigating Swedish agriculture. Doubtless this was a very interesting amusement; but at quarter past five, the party returned to the station. A long train was just departing in the direction of Gottenburg.

"What train's that?" demanded Sanford.

"I don't know," replied Ole, with a look of alarm.

"Inquire, then," added the excited coxswain.

The party hastened into the little station. It was the regular train for Gottenburg.

"But how's that?" cried Sanford. "You said it left at half past five."

"Yes; I looked at the time-table in Gottenburg, and it said half past five," replied Ole. "Here is one, and I will look again."

"Better wait till morning before you look again," said Scott.

"Here it is; five—"

"That's all, Norway."

"I'm sure it was half past five in Gottenburg," pleaded Ole, whom the coxswain had privately requested to make this blunder.

"What sort of chowder do you call this, son of Odin?" demanded Scott.

"He has made a blunder; that's all," laughed Burchmore, who, though not in the confidence of the coxswain, at once suspected the trick, and, to tell the truth, was not sorry for the mistake.

The mishap was discussed for an hour, and poor Ole was severely blamed, especially by Sanford, for his carelessness; but he bore the censure with becoming meekness.

"What's to be done?" inquired Scott, at last.

"Here's another train at 8.56," replied Ole, pointing to the time-table. "We can return to Gottenburg in that."

"Right, Norway," added Scott.

They found a small hotel in the place, where they obtained a supper, and at the time indicated returned to Gottenburg, where they arrived at about one in the morning. It was too late to go on board of the ship, and they went directly to the little hotel in the lane, where Scott and Laybold had passed the preceding night. It was closed, but they easily roused the landlord.

"So you have again come," said the good-natured host.

"Yes; we have again come. It is too late to go on board of the ship," replied Scott.

"Your ship have sail to-night to Copenhagen."

"No! Impossible!"

"I have seen her sail," persisted the landlord. "I have make no mistake."

"We are dished!" exclaimed Sanford.

"The young gentleman come down at seven o'clock, and the ship have sail at nine o'clock. I know it so well as I know how to speak the English."

"It must be so, then," laughed Scott; "for you have spoke the English more better as nice."

"What shall we do?" continued Sanford, who seemed to be positively distressed at the unfortunate circumstance.

"Do? Go to bed, and go to sleep. What else can we do? You are too big a boy to cry over your misfortunes," replied Scott.

"I don't intend to cry; but I feel very bad about it."

"Dry your tears," said Burchmore. "We may as well take a biscuit, turn in, and call it half a day."

"But when will there be a steamer to Copenhagen?" asked Sanford.

"The Najaden must go Monday afternoon," answered the landlord, who, for some reason best known to himself, did not deem it prudent to mention the fact that the Kronprindsesse Louise would sail within half an hour.

"This will never do," interposed Rodman. "We have been chasing the ship now for a week, and by the time we get to Copenhagen she will be gone. I move we go to Stockholm. We shall be sure to catch her there."

"Good!" exclaimed Wilde.

The proposition was fully discussed, and when a majority favored the movement, the others, among whom was Sanford, yielded an apparently reluctant assent. The Wadstena would start at two o'clock, and there was not a moment to lose. The landlord was astonished at the decision, and his hotel was not filled that night, as he intended it should be. Just as the canal steamer was starting, the young tourists hurried on board, and were soon on their way to Stockholm.

Not a quarter of a mile distant at this moment were Peaks and his prisoner, and Blaine, the head steward, who was on the lookout for them.



CHAPTER XIV.

THROUGH THE SOUND TO COPENHAGEN.

Mr. Lowington was almost forced to the conclusion that the experiment of permitting the students to manage their own finances was a failure. If it could be a success anywhere, it must be in the northern countries, where none of the boys spoke the language, and where the lighter intoxicants were not so common as in the more southern portions of Europe. Though he was not aware that any pupils had made an improper use of their money, the non-arrival of the crew of the second cutter, and the disappearance of Scott and Laybold in Gottenburg, seemed to have some relation to the condition of their funds. But he was willing to carry the experiment as far as practicable, and to restore the obnoxious rule only when it was absolutely necessary to do so. Two thirds of the students could be safely trusted to manage their money matters, and it was not pleasant to restrain the whole for the benefit of the minority.

After the boys had walked all over Gottenburg, they were weary enough to retire at eight bells in the evening, especially as they were to turn out at two o'clock the next morning, for the trip up the Goeta Canal. At the appointed time, the steamer came alongside the ship, where she took the excursionists on board, the boats of the other vessels conveying their crews to the Young America. As it was still dark, not a few of the boys finished their nap in the little steamer. About eight o'clock, she reached the long series of locks by which the canal passes the Falls of Trollhaetten, and the excursionists walked for a couple of hours through the beautiful scenery, and embarking again in the steamer, arrived at Wenersberg, where they obtained a view of the Wenern Lake, and proceeded by special train to Herrljunga, and thence, by regular train, to Gottenburg, where they arrived before eight in the evening. The wind was fair, and the squadron immediately sailed to the southward.

The principal was annoyed by the absence of not less than a dozen of the students; but he had every confidence in the zeal and discretion of Peaks, who was to take charge of the cutter's crew, and he left the head steward at Gottenburg to find Scott and Laybold. He feared that the success of these wanderers would encourage others to follow their example, and increased vigilance seemed to be necessary on the part of the instructors. The next day was Sunday, and it was doubly a season of rest. The breeze was fair, but very light, so that the squadron made only about four knots an hour; but on Monday morning she was fairly in the Sound, which is about three miles in width. On the left was the town of Helsingborg, in Sweden, and on the right Kronberg Castle, with Elsinore, on a kind of land-locked basin, behind it. The vessels continued on their course, keeping within a short distance of the shore, so that those on board could distinctly see the towns and villages. The houses were neat, with red roofs, each one having its little garden. There were plenty of groves and forests, and the trees were oaks and beeches, instead of pines and firs which the voyagers had seen in Norway and Sweden. The country was flat, with nothing like a hill to be seen.

The breeze freshening, the squadron hastened its pace, and in the middle of the forenoon the spires of Copenhagen were in plain sight. Off in the water were several detached forts, built on small islands. The Young America led the way, and soon dropped her anchor off the citadel of Frederikshavn, and near the landing-place, where a crowd of small steamers were lying at the wharf.

"Have you been here before, Dr. Winstock?" asked Captain Lincoln, as he saw the surgeon examining the aspect of the city.

"Yes; several years ago. I have been in every country in Europe."

"Copenhagen don't look just as I expected it would," added the commander. "I thought it must be a very old, black, and musty-looking place."

"You see that it is not,—at least not from the water; but you will find plenty of dismal and gloomy-looking buildings in it. The fact is, Denmark is too small a kingdom to support all the show and expense of royalty: its palaces are too large and costly to be retained as such, and many of them have been permitted to fall into partial decay. But I will not anticipate Mr. Mapps' lecture, for I see the signal is flying."

"She makes a tremendous display of forts and guns," added Lincoln, glancing from the batteries of Trekroner and Lynetten to the bristling guns of Frederikshavn.

"Doubtless it is a strong place, but the English have twice captured the city. Here are the boats from the other vessels. I suppose we shall go ashore after dinner."

The steerage was soon crowded with students, and Mr. Mapps took his usual position at the foremast, on which appeared the map of Denmark.

"In English this country is called Denmark," said the professor; "but it has this name in no other language. The Danes call it Danmark, the adjective of which is Danske; and the country is also called the Danske Stat, or Danish States. In German it is Daenemark; in French, Danemark; in Italian, Danimarca. It is bounded on the north by the Skager Rack, or Sleeve; on the east by the Cattegat, the Sound, and the Baltic Sea; on the south by the Duchy of Schleswig and the Baltic; and on the west by the North Sea. When this ship was in Europe before, Schleswig-Holstein and Lauenburg belonged to Denmark; but now they belong to Prussia, and Jutland is all that remains of continental Denmark. This peninsula has an area of nine thousand six hundred square miles, or about the size of the State of New Hampshire. With the several islands, the entire area of Denmark is fourteen thousand five hundred square miles. Greenland, Iceland, the Faroe Islands, and several small islands in the West Indies, belong to her. The population is nearly one million eight hundred thousand—about equal to that of Massachusetts and New Hampshire united.

"The country is flat, or gently undulating, and the highest hill is only five hundred and fifty feet high. The soil is sandy on the peninsula, and not very fertile, but very rich on some of the islands. It is indented to a remarkable degree with bays and inlets, and the whole interior is dotted with small lakes, usually connected by a river, like a number of eggs on a string. The Lim Fjord, which you see in the north, formerly only extended to within a short distance of the North Sea; but in 1825 a tempest broke through the narrow neck of land, and opened a passage for small vessels. These inland lakes are full of fish, and salmon was once so plenty that householders were forbidden by law to feed their servants with this food more than once a week.

"The two largest islands are Fuenen and Seeland, which are separated by the Great Belt, and the former from the main land by the Little Belt. In winter these are frozen over, as is the Sound in the severer seasons, and have been crossed by armies engaged in military operations. The country is well wooded, and you will find plenty of large oaks and beeches. This morning you passed Elsinore, where Shakespeare locates Hamlet; but you cannot find where 'the morn walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill,' for there are no hills there; nor 'the dreadful summit of the cliff, that beetles o'er his base into the sea.' It is a flat region, with only a low cliff to border the sea; certainly with no such tremendous steeps as the poet describes. Besides, Hamlet lived and died in Jutland. But Shakespeare used the poet's license.

"Nearly all of Denmark lies between latitude fifty-five and fifty-eight; but, though the thermometer sometimes falls to twenty-two degrees below zero in winter, the average temperature is mild. The climate does not materially differ from the eastern coast of Massachusetts. The air is so humid that the grass and trees have a livelier green than the countries farther south, and droughts are almost unknown. When France and Germany are parched and dry, Denmark is fresh and green. The people are engaged principally in agriculture and commerce. The chief exports are grain, cattle, and horses.

"The government is a constitutional monarchy. The king is assisted in the executive department by a 'Royal Privy Council' of seven ministers. The legislature is called the Rigsdag, and consists of the Landsthing, or upper house, and the Folkething, or lower house. Of the former, twelve are nominated for life, by the king, from the present or past members of the lower house, and the remaining fifty-four are elected, in four classes, by the largest tax-payers in country districts, in towns, in cities, and by deputies representing the ordinary voters. The members of the lower house are chosen directly by the people. All male citizens of twenty-five, except paupers, and servants who are not householders, are voters.

"The established religion of the state is Lutheran, and the king must be of this church. He nominates the bishops, who have no political power, as in England. They have the general supervision and management of all the affairs of the church in the kingdom. Although there are only about thirteen thousand non-Lutherans in Denmark, entire religious toleration prevails, and no man can be deprived of his civil and political rights on account of his creed.

"Free education is provided by the government for all children whose parents cannot afford to pay for tuition, and attendance at school, between the ages of seven and fourteen, is compulsory. All the people, therefore, are instructed in the elementary branches; and, besides the University of Copenhagen, there is a system of high and middle schools, available for the children of merchants, mechanics, and the more prosperous of the laboring classes.

"Every able-bodied man in Denmark, who has attained the age of twenty-one, is liable to serve as a soldier for eight years in the regular army, and eight more in the army of the reserve. In preparation for this duty, every man is enrolled, and required to drill for a period of from four to six months, according to the arm of the service in which he is placed; and those who do not become proficient in this time are required to drill for another and longer period. The kingdom is divided into military districts, and all the soldiers are required to drill from thirty to forty-five days every year. The navy of Denmark consists of thirty-one steamers of all classes, six of which are iron-clads, carrying three hundred and twelve guns, and manned by nine hundred men.

"Little is known of the history of this country before the eighth century, but the Cimbri occupied it before the time of Christ. The Danes conquered portions of England, and in the eleventh century, Canute, who introduced Christianity into his realm, completed the conquest. Norway was also included in his kingdom, and under him and his successors, during the next two hundred years, Denmark attained the summit of her power and glory. Holstein, Lauenburg, and several other of the northern provinces of Germany, and even a portion of Prussia, were subjected to her sway. Waldemar II., a successor of Canute, with his eldest son, was daringly captured, while resting from the fatigues of the chase, one evening, by Count Schwerin, whom the king had provoked to wrath by some flagrant injustice. This bold act of retaliation was carried to a successful issue, and the king and his son were transported by water to Castle Schwerin, in Mecklenburg, where they were kept as prisoners for three years—a most remarkable instance of retribution, if we consider that Waldemar was the most powerful sovereign of the north. By threats and bribes his release was procured; but during his confinement the conquered provinces had revolted, and the king was unable to recover his lost possessions. Denmark was thus reduced from her lofty position by the injustice of her king.

"Towards the close of the fourteenth century, Margaret—the Semiramis of the North—succeeded to the thrones of Norway and Denmark, and added Sweden to her dominions by conquest, in the compact of Calmar. The Swedes, under Gustavus Vasa, established their independence after the union had existed for one hundred and twenty-five years. At the death of the last of Margaret's line, in 1439, the states of Denmark elected the count of Oldenburg their king, who reigned as Christian I. He was made duke of Schleswig and count of Holstein, and thus the sovereign of Denmark became the ruler of these duchies, about which there has been so much trouble within the last ten years, and which caused the war of 1866 between Prussia and Austria. He was followed by his son Hans, or John, whose heir was Christian II., deposed in 1523. This prince was a tyrant, and was kept a prisoner for twenty-seven years. His crown was given to Frederick, Duke of Schleswig and Holstein, in whose reign Sweden established her independence. His son Christian III. succeeded him. In the great wars which followed the Reformation, the kings of Denmark took the Protestant side. In repeated conflicts with the Swedes, Denmark lost much of her territory. After Christian III. came Frederick II., and then Christian IV., who was followed by Frederick III., in whose reign the crown, which had been nominally elective, was made hereditary in the Oldenburg line. Under Christian V. the country was at peace; but Frederick IV., who came after him, brought on a war with Sweden by invading the territory of the Duke of Holstein, an ally of the King of Sweden, which continued till 1718. Under Christian VI. and Frederick V. the country was at peace. Christian VII. married the sister of George III. of England, and was followed, in 1808, by Frederick VI., their son.

"In 1780, Russia, Sweden, and Denmark, under the influence of France, established a new code of maritime laws, which operated against the interests of England. This action in convention was called 'Armed Neutrality,' and in 1800, during the reign of Christian VII., its principles were revived, and a new agreement was signed by Russia, Prussia, Denmark, and Sweden. It declared that arms and ammunition alone were contraband of war, that merchandise of belligerents, except contraband of war, was to be protected by a neutral flag, and that 'paper blockades' should be regarded as ineffectual. England immediately laid an embargo on the vessels of the powers signing it. In 1801, a British fleet under Sir Hyde Parker, with Nelson as second in command, bombarded Copenhagen. Again, in 1807, England, fearing that Denmark would be compelled by Napoleon to take part against her, bombarded Copenhagen, and compelled the government to give up its entire fleet, which was sent to England. This ended the armed neutrality. At the final treaty of peace, in 1814, Norway was ceded to Sweden, which, in return, gave to Denmark Pomerania, and the Island of Ruegen; but the next year Pomerania was passed over to Prussia, in exchange for the Duchy of Lauenburg.

"Frederick VI. reigned till 1839, when he was followed by Christian VIII. The two Duchies of Schleswig and Holstein were still subjects of dispute. The king claimed them, but the people of Holstein were German in sentiment, and objected to the incorporation of their country in the Kingdom of Denmark, to which the continued efforts of the latter were directed. The Danish language was required to be used to the exclusion of the German. In 1848, Frederick VII. came to the throne, and was more energetic in pushing his claims to the duchies than some of his predecessors had been. The people of Holstein, which was a member of the German Confederation, were in a state of insurrection, when the King of Denmark virtually annexed both duchies to his kingdom. War ensued, and continued for three years. The interference of some of the great powers restored peace, but left the question in dispute unsettled."

"What was the question in dispute?" asked Captain Lincoln.

"I will explain it, though there are so many complications to it, that only a general view of the subject can be given. For four hundred years the line of Oldenburg has occupied the throne of Denmark. Schleswig and Holstein were governed by the same rulers, though each country was separately organized. But the law of succession was different. In Denmark a female could rule, while in the duchies the line was limited to males. Frederick VII. had no children, and it was seen that the direct line of the house of Oldenburg would be extinct at his death. A treaty made by the several powers interested gave the succession to Prince Christian, whose wife was entitled to the throne by right of her descent from Christian III., who died in 1559; but she yielded her right to her husband, who ascended the throne in 1863, as Christian IX., and is the present king. At the death of Frederick VII., the Duke of Augustenburg claimed the duchies. Germany desired to separate Schleswig-Holstein from Denmark. The German troops entered Holstein, which was a member of the Confederation, and entitled to its protection. Denmark refused to yield her title to the duchies, and war ensued. The Danes were overwhelmed, and repeatedly defeated. England declined to assist Denmark, as had been expected by the latter, and Denmark was compelled to renounce all her claims to Schleswig-Holstein and Lauenburg, in favor of Prussia and Austria. The main question in regard to the final disposition of the duchies was left open for future adjustment, and Prussia took temporary possession of Schleswig, and Austria of Holstein. The Duke of Augustenburg was permitted to remain in the latter, but forbidden to get up any demonstration in aid of his own claims.

"Austria favored the claim of the duke, while Prussia denied it, and accused her then powerful rival of encouraging revolutionary movements in Holstein dangerous to the thrones of Europe. Then followed the great war of 1866, which resulted in the utter humiliation of Austria, and the annexation of all the disputed territories to Prussia. Denmark, thus shorn of her territories and her power, has become an insignificant kingdom. With less than two million inhabitants, she supports all the costly trappings of royalty, and keeps an army and navy. The king has a civil list of nearly three hundred thousand dollars, and the heir apparent has an allowance exceeding the salary of the President of the United States, while the entire revenue of the nation is only about thirteen million dollars. Prince Frederick, the king's oldest son, who succeeds to the throne, married the daughter of the King of Sweden and Norway. The princess Alexandra, the oldest daughter, is the wife of the Prince of Wales. Prince Wilhelm, the second son, was elected King of Greece, under the title of Georgios I. in 1863. The Princess Dagmar is the wife of the Grand Duke Alexander, of Russia, heir of the throne. By their connections two of the sons are, or will be, kings, one daughter Queen of England, and another Empress of Russia.

"In 1348, the King of Denmark levied duties on all vessels passing through the Sound, at the Fortress of Kronberg, which were applied to the expenses of the light-houses, and the protection of shipping from pirates. The United States first objected to the payment of this tax, and called the attention of the commercial nations of Europe to the annoyance. All vessels were obliged to anchor, and submit to vexatious delays; but none doubted the right to levy the dues, which had been formally regulated by treaties. Denmark consented to abandon her claims on the payment of about fifteen millions of dollars by the nations of Europe, and about four hundred thousand on the part of the United States."

The professor completed his lecture, and the students separated. Most of them climbed into the rigging, or seated themselves on the rail, where they could see the city and the various objects of interest in the harbor. The view shoreward from the ship was very unsatisfactory, for the city, built on a dead level, presented but little to challenge the attention of the voyager. While they were observing the surroundings, a shore boat approached the vessel, in which were two persons wearing the uniform of the squadron. One of them was a stout man, in whom the students soon recognized Peaks.

"But who is that with him?" asked Norwood.

"It's one of the second cutter's crew, I suppose," replied De Forrest. "I didn't think, when I went ashore with them, that I shouldn't see any of them again for so long a time. I wonder where the rest of them are."

"That's not one of the second cutters," added Judson. "It is the English fellow."

"So it is."

Peaks came alongside, and directed Clyde Blacklock to mount the accommodation ladder, which he did without making any objection. They had arrived the day before. The prisoner seemed to have lost some portion of his stubborn spirit. The boatswain followed him to the deck, and touching his cap to the captain and other officers on the quarter-deck, went aft, where the principal was talking with the surgeon.

"We have come on board, sir," said the boatswain, as he took off his cap and pointed to Clyde.

"I see you have," replied Mr. Lowington. "I'm glad to see you again, Clyde."

The young Briton nodded his head with a jerk, but made no reply.

"Have you seen Mr. Blaine, Peaks?" asked the principal.

"Yes, sir; I met him on the wharf night before last at Gottenburg."

"But where are the crew of the second cutter? I expected you to bring them."

"They came back to Christiania on Friday, and took the steamer for Gottenburg the same evening; but Mr. Blaine had not seen them. Their steamer arrived in the forenoon, and the ship did not sail till night."

"I am afraid there is something wrong about it."

"I left Mr. Blaine in Gottenburg. I suppose he will find them."

Peaks reported in detail the result of his mission on shore. So far as Clyde was concerned it was entirely satisfactory; but the continued absence of the second cutter's crew was very annoying to the principal.

"How do you feel, Clyde?" asked Mr. Lowington, turning to the new student.

"I feel well enough," replied the runaway, roughly.

"I am glad you do. I hope you feel better than when you left the ship."

"I don't."

"While you were on board before, I neglected to explain to you the consequences of leaving the ship without permission."

"It wouldn't have made any difference. I should have gone just the same," answered Clyde, doggedly.

"The less trouble you make, the better it will be for you."

"Perhaps it will; but I don't intend to stay in this ship a great while."

"I intend that you shall stay here; and since you avow your purpose to run away again, I must see that you are put in a safe place. Peaks, the brig."

"The brig? What's that?" demanded Clyde, who was very suspicious of the calm, unmoved tones of the principal.

"Come with me, my lad, and I will show you," replied the boatswain.

The Briton knew by sad experience how useless it was to contend against this tyrant, who, however, always used him well when he behaved in a reasonable manner. He followed the boatswain into the steerage, and the door of the brig, which was a small prison formed of plank slats, set upright under the steps, about three inches apart, was opened.

"That's the brig, my boy," said Peaks. "It's a regular institution on board a man-of-war; but this one has not been opened for months."

"Well, what's it for?" asked Clyde, who even yet did not seem to comprehend its use.

"Walk in, and I will make it all plain to you in a moment."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Sail in!" shouted a student, who, with others, was observing the treatment.

"On deck, sir!" said the boatswain, sternly, to the speaker. "Report yourself."

It was a principle in the discipline of the ship that no person should say or do anything to irritate a student undergoing punishment, and no one was permitted, on such occasions, to take part on either side, unless called upon by the officer or instructor to do so. In ordinary cases no boy was required, or permitted, to be a "tell-tale," and all were expected to remain neutral. The student who had spoken left the steerage, and went on deck, before Clyde had time to "open upon him," as he intended to do.

"Step in, my lad," added Peaks.

"What for?" asked the Briton, as he obeyed the order, but not without a suspicion that he was to step upon a red-hot gridiron, or be precipitated through some opening in the deck into the dark depths beneath.

No such calamity happened to him, and he was rather astonished to find that no harsher punishment was used for the flagrant offence he had committed. He had pushed the boatswain overboard, and then run away. Peaks had never manifested any resentment towards him on account of his cowardly trick; but he anticipated some severe discipline on board of the ship. The boatswain closed and locked the door of the brig, and then looked in at the prisoner through the slats.

"Do you understand what the brig is for now?" asked Peaks.

"You have locked me in—that's all."

"That's all, my lad."

"How long am I to stay here?"

"Till you make up your mind not to run away."

"This isn't a bad place, and I shall stay here till I grow gray before I promise not to be off when I get a chance."

"All right, my hearty. Think of it a few weeks."

To one who had expected some horrible punishment for his misdemeanors, the brig seemed like very mild discipline. Clyde seated himself on the stool in his prison, and leisurely surveyed the surroundings. He was an enterprising youth, and the bars of his cage looked small and weak. At dinner time, the meal was handed in to him, and he ate with an excellent appetite. Soon after, he heard the call for all hands, and then the waiter in the steerage told him they had gone on shore to see the city. Everything was quiet and still, and he devoted himself to a more particular examination of the bars of the brig. They were two inches thick, but the case looked hopeful. Pursuing his investigations still farther, he found, under the steps, a saw, a hammer, a chisel, and some other tools, which Bitts, the carpenter, had placed there a few days before, and forgotten to remove. Clyde took up the saw; but just then, Peaks, with a book in his hand, seated himself at a table near the brig, and began to read.



CHAPTER XV.

COPENHAGEN AND TIVOLI.

All the boats of the squadron came into line, each with the flag in the bow and stern. They pulled along the water front of the city, around a couple of Danish men-of-war, and of course created a sensation. One by one the boats rowed up to the landing, and the students went on shore, each crew securing its cutter at the wharf, near the steps. The custom-house officers were on the alert; but as no one had parcels of any kind, the students were not detained. Mr. and Mrs. Kendall landed, and as they intended to spend a few days in the city, they had a couple of valises, which the porters, who are always in waiting at all the ports in Europe, conveyed into the custom-house. The Toldbod, as this edifice is called by the Danes, is surrounded by a high wall, which also encloses the entire landing-place, so that none can visit the city from the sea without passing through its gates.

One of the officers spoke English very well, and evidently took pride in doing so, for he asked a great many questions so pleasantly, that it was impossible to explain his object in any other way. He wished to know whether the travellers had any clothing they had not worn, and whether Mrs. Kendall had any tobacco or liquor. She protested that she did not use tobacco or liquor; and the actual examination of the baggage was a mere form. The man was so polite, that Paul at once concluded he was only practising his English. A carriage was procured, and Dr. Winstock and Captain Lincoln were invited to join the party. The inquiring students deemed it a great privilege to be permitted to go with the surgeon, for he was a walking encyclopaedia of every city and country in Europe. As Paul Kendall had been before, Captain Lincoln was now, the favorite of the doctor, and the little party were to see the city together.

The carriage went out at the gate, and passed into Amaliegade. The houses were plain and substantial, without much ornament. They were of brick, but most of them were covered with stucco.

"What's this?" asked Paul, as the carriage entered an open space, with an equestrian statue in the centre.

"Frederiksplads," replied the doctor; "and that is the statue of Frederik V., who came to the throne in 1746, and in whose reign this palace was erected."

The place was an octagon, surrounded on all sides by public buildings.

"This is the residence of the king on the left. On the other side is the palace of the crown prince. There is the foreign office, and on the other side lives the queen dowager."

"They are not very elegant buildings," said Captain Lincoln.

"No; there are no very fine buildings in Copenhagen, though the Exchange is a very curious structure, and some are very large and unwieldy. There's the Casino," added the doctor.

"What's a casino?" inquired the captain.

"Here it is a building for dancing, concerts, theatrical performances, and similar amusements in the winter season. Everything is cheap here, and the price of admission to the Casino, where one joins the dance or sees a play, is two or three marks."

"How much is that? I haven't looked up the money yet," said Paul.

"A rigsbank dollar is the unit, worth about fifty-four cents of our money. It is divided into six marks, of nine cents each, and a mark into sixteen skillings, of about half a cent each. When the Italian opera is at the Casino, the prices are only three or four marks. This is Gothersgade," added Dr. Winstock, as the carriage turned into another street. "In plain English, Gothic street."

"There's another equestrian statue," added Captain Lincoln, pointing to a large, irregular space, surrounded by public buildings.

"The statue of Christian V. This is Kongens, or King's Square. There are the Academy of Arts, the Royal Theatre, the Guard House, the New Market—none of them very fine, as you can see for yourselves."

The carriage crossed this square, and came out at a canal, on the other side of which was the vast palace of Christiansborg. A short distance farther brought the party to the Royal Hotel. The carriage stopped at the door in the arch, and the two landlords, the porter, the waiters, and the clerk, half a score strong, turned out to receive its occupants. All of them bowed low, and all of them led the way up stairs. Paul took a parlor and chamber for himself and lady.

"Now, where's Joseph?" asked Dr. Winstock.

"Who's Joseph?" inquired the captain.

"He is the guide at this hotel, if he is still living."

Joseph was sent for, and soon made his appearance. He was an elderly man, with gray hair and whiskers, neatly dressed in black. His manners were very agreeable, and he exhibited a lively zeal to serve the tourists. Mr. Lowington had been courteously waited upon by an officer of the government, who had volunteered to have the various palaces, museums, and other places of interest, opened during the afternoon and the next day. Joseph had procured a two-horse carriage, and the party at the hotel seated themselves in it, with the guide on the box with the driver.

"That's the Slot," said Joseph, pointing across the canal.

"The what?" exclaimed Captain Lincoln.

"The Slot, or Palace of Christiansborg."

"Slot! What a name!"

"But not any worse than the German word Schloss," added Joseph, laughing. "Do you speak German, sir?"

"Not much."

The guide uttered a few sentences in German, evidently for the purpose of demonstrating that he spoke the language.

"The palace is on an island called Slotsholm, and is as big as it is ugly. Shall we go there now?"

"No; we want a general view of the city first," replied Dr. Winstock. "I think we had better ascend to the top of the Round Tower."

Joseph gave the order, and the carriage proceeded to the tower. The canal in front of the hotel was filled with small craft, which had brought pottery and various wares from other parts of Denmark, to sell. The goods were arranged on the decks and on the shore of the canal. Near were groups of women, who were selling fish, vegetables, and other articles, around whom was a crowd of purchasers.

"I suppose you have heard of Andersen?" said Joseph to the captain.

"Heard of him! I have read all his books which have been translated into English," replied Captain Lincoln.

"He has rooms in that building some of the time. Do you see that sign—Melchoir?"

"Yes."

"This Melchoir is a very dear friend of Andersen, who lives with him a portion of the time."

"Is it possible to see Hans Christian Andersen?" asked Mrs. Kendall.

"Quite possible, madam. I will see about it to-day. He is a very agreeable man, and willing to meet all who wish to see him," answered Joseph. "There's the Town Hall," he added, as the carriage passed a large building, with an extensive colonnade in front.

"'Med Lov skal man Land bygge,'" said Lincoln, reading an inscription on the front. "Those are my sentiments exactly."

"'With law must the land be built' is the English of that," laughed Joseph. "All the Jutland laws begin with this phrase, which was spoken by Waldemar II. We Danes believe in law, and everything that is good. Copenhagen is a very fine city, and everything is remarkably cheap here."

"What do you call your city in your own lingo, Joseph?"

"Kjoebenhavn; pronounce it Chep-en-ahn."

"Chepenahn," repeated Lincoln.

"Speak it a little quicker, and you will have it right. It was first called simply the Haven; then in Danish, when many merchants carried on business here, Kaupmannahoefn, or merchants' haven, from which it was shortened into chepenahn. Here is the Round Tower," added Joseph, as the carriage stopped.

The party alighted and entered the structure, which was the tower of the Church of the Trinity.

"This used to be the watch tower, where men were kept to give the alarm in case of fire; but the observatory has been moved to the tower of St. Nicholas, and now we have a telegraphic fire alarm. Won't you walk up to the top of this tower, where you can have a fine view of the whole city? The ascent is very easy," continued Joseph.

There were no stairs, but an inclined plane, gradual in its rise, permitted the tourists to ascend to the summit with very little labor.

"We might have driven up in the carriage," said Captain Lincoln.

"There would be no difficulty at all in doing so. In fact, Peter the Great, when he was in Copenhagen, in 1716, drove to the top with the Empress Catharine, in a coach and four."

"Is that so?" asked the captain.

"I can't remember so far back myself," chuckled Joseph, "for I'm not much over a hundred years old; but everybody says it is true, and I see no reason to doubt the story. Peter the Great liked to do strange things, and you can see for yourself that a carriage would run very well here."

"If he went up with a coach and four, of course he must have come down, unless the carriage and horses are up there now. How did he turn his team?"

"It is easier to ask some questions than to answer them," replied Joseph. "History does not say that he drove down, only that he drove up."

"Perhaps he backed down, which kings and emperors are sometimes obliged to do, as well as common people," suggested Paul Kendall.

"Very likely he did; I don't see any other way for the team to descend," added Joseph. "This tower was begun in 1639."

At the top of the structure the travellers took a general survey of the city, and then proceeded to examine it in detail.

"Do you remember the latitude of Copenhagen, Captain Lincoln?" asked Dr. Winstock.

"About fifty-five and a half."

"The same as the middle of Labrador. Quebec is about forty-seven, and this is a long way farther north. What is the population of this city, Joseph?" asked the doctor.

"One hundred and eighty-one thousand," replied the guide, giving the census of 1870. "Formerly the city was a walled town, with ramparts and moats. It was built partly on Seeland, and partly on the small island of Amager. The channel between them is the harbor. You can see where the old line of fortifications was. The old town lies nearest to the sea, but the city is now spreading rapidly out into the country."

"What is that broad sheet of water, with two bridges over it?" asked Lincoln, pointing to the land side.

"That is the reservoir. Formerly the water in the city was bad, but now it has an excellent system of water-works. The water comes in from the country, and is pumped up by steam before it is distributed. Beyond that, for miles, the country is covered with beautiful villas and country residences. You must ride out there, for the environs of Copenhagen are as fine as anything in Europe."

"You are right, Joseph," added the doctor. "Some parts of the city are not unlike Holland, you see. The Slotsholm canal gives that part of the town a decidedly Dutch look."

"The part on Amager, called Christianshavn, is all cut up by canals," added the guide.

"Now, we will take a ride around the city," said Paul Kendall.

The party descended, and having driven through some of the principal streets, and obtained a very good idea of the city, returned to the hotel.

"Now you can dismiss the carriage, and we will go to some of the museums and churches," suggested Joseph.

"We don't care to walk far; we will retain the carriage," replied Paul.

"It will be much cheaper to walk, as you have to pay four marks an hour for the carriage," pleaded the economical guide. "Thorwaldsen's Museum and the Northern Antiquities are only a few steps from here."

"Very well; we will walk, then, if you insist upon it," laughed Paul.

"I thought these guides made you spend as much money as possible," said Captain Lincoln to the surgeon.

"I never found it so. I think they are a very useful class of men. They charge here about two rigsdalers a day, and I remember that Joseph would not let me throw away a single mark. They know the prices for carriages and everything else, and it is for their interest not to let any one cheat their employers. Perhaps it is not well to make purchases with them, for they compel the merchant to pay them a commission, which increases the price charged for the articles. But I think, in many places, I have done better with a commissionnaire than without one, in making purchases."

Joseph led the way across the bridge to Slotsholm, which was nearly covered by the immense palace of Christiansborg and its dependencies. The first building was Thorwaldsen's Museum, the outer walls of which were covered with an Etruscan fresco of the arrival and debarkation of the great sculptor and his goods, mostly works of art. The figures are about life size, and the situation in which the pictures are placed is novel and quaint. The work was done by inlaying cement of different colors in the wall. Joseph described the various scenes. Thorwaldsen is still held in the highest regard and veneration by all Denmark, and especially by all Copenhagen; indeed, he seems to be the great genius of the country. He was born in 1770, near the city. His father was an Icelander, and a carver in wood—a calling in which the son assisted him when he was only a dozen years old. At seventeen he received the prize of a silver medal from the Academy of Arts, and at twenty-three the grand prize, which carried with it a royal pension, that enabled him to go abroad for the study of his art. He went to Rome in 1796, where he had but little success, and was reduced almost to despair, when his model of Jason and the Golden Fleece attracted the attention of an English gentleman, who commissioned him to complete the work in marble. This event was the dawn of success, and orders continued to pour in upon him from the rich and the powerful, including kings and emperors, until his fortune was made. His works adorn many of the great cities of Europe, and Canova was his only actual rival. His fame extended to every nation, and a visit to his native land in 1819 was a triumphal progress through Italy and Germany. In 1838 he returned to Copenhagen, to pass the remainder of his days, in a frigate sent to Italy for his use by the Danish government. On one side of his museum are depicted his arrival in this ship, and his reception by the citizens; and on the other side, the conveyance of his works from the ship to their final destination. Thorwaldsen went to Rome again on a visit for his health, and died in Copenhagen in 1844. He was a modest, generous, and amiable man. The museum was erected by subscription, though the sculptor gave a fourth part of the sum necessary for its erection, and in his will bequeathed to it the works of art from his cunning brain, of which its contents are almost entirely composed. His biography has been written by Hans Christian Andersen.

After examining the frescoes on the outer wall, the party entered the building. It is an oblong structure, with a court-yard in the middle. It is two stories in height, with connected rooms extending entirely around it. The works of art, and memorials of the sculptor, are classified in these apartments, forty-two in number.

"That is the grave of Thorwaldsen," said Joseph, leading the way into the court-yard. "His body lies there, surrounded by his works, as he requested."

The grave is an oblong enclosure of polished granite, raised a few inches above the ground, and covered over with ivy. At the foot of it is a black cross, with the date of his death inscribed upon it.

The tourists walked through the various rooms, and examined the works of the immortal genius, most of which were in plaster, being the models of all his great achievements set up in marble in various parts of Europe. His pictures, his library, his collections of coins, vases, and antiquities, are placed in the museum. One room is fitted up with his furniture, precisely as he used it, and various interesting mementos of the man are to be seen there. Among the pictures are some mere daubs, which are preserved only because they belonged to Thorwaldsen; but they have an interest as an illustration of the benevolent character of the great sculptor, who ordered many of them merely to save the artists from starvation.

"Did you ever see Thorwaldsen?" asked Lincoln, as Joseph conducted his charge from the building.

"Often," replied the guide. "He was a venerable-looking old man, with long, white hair. He made a statue of himself, which is very like him. He died suddenly in the theatre, and the king and royal family followed his remains to the church."

The Museum of Northern Antiquities was in the old palace of a prince, on the other side of the canal. On the front of the building were some quaint carvings, which gave it a picturesque appearance. Joseph seemed to be in his element at this museum. He spoke glibly and learnedly of "the stone age," "the bronze age," and "the iron age," each designated by the material of which the implements used for domestic purposes, in war and agriculture, were composed. Numberless utensils of all kinds are contained in the cabinets, classified with rare skill, and arranged with excellent taste. All these objects were found below ground, in various parts of Scandinavia. In Denmark the law requires that all antiquities of metal shall belong to the government, which, however, pays the full value of the articles to the finder. In 1847 a pair of solid gold bracelets, very heavy, and elegantly wrought, were dug up from the earth, and added to this collection. There is a great variety of ornaments, in gold and silver, consisting of necklaces, rings, bracelets, and similar trinkets. One necklace contains three pounds of pure gold.

There are plenty of knives, arrow-heads, hatchets, hammers, chisels, and other implements, skilfully made of stone. Runic writings, the most valuable in the world, are collected here. Joseph said that certain long pieces of wood, with signs carved upon them, were Icelandic Calendars. The remains of a warrior, who had fought and died in the ancient time, with the iron mail of his day, were examined with interest, as were also a number of altars, coffers containing relics, and some gold crosses, one of which is said to contain a splinter from the true cross, which were exhibited as specimens of the Catholic form of worship in remote times.

Recrossing the bridge over the canal, the party entered the great, barn-like palace of Christiansborg. It consists of several connected buildings, containing a theatre, riding-school, stables, coach-houses, bake-house, and the usual royal apartments. In 1168 a castle was erected on this spot, as a protection against pirates, which was repeatedly demolished, rebuilt, altered, and enlarged, till it was levelled to the ground in 1732, and a new palace erected, but was destroyed by fire in 1784. It was rebuilt, in its present cumbrous proportions, in 1828. The visitors entered the large court-yard, passed through the picture gallery, the "Hall of the Knights," the throne-room, looked into the riding-school,—which is a large, oblong room, with an earth floor, where the royal family may practise equestrianism,—the arsenal, the legislative chambers, and other rooms, none of which were very striking to those who had visited the palaces of Paris, London, Berlin, and St. Petersburg.

In front of the palace is a beautiful green, beyond which is the Exchange, or Boersen, built by Christian IV. It is the most picturesque edifice in the city, though the interior is entirely commonplace. It is long and very narrow, and ornamented with a vast number of figures cut in the stone, with elegantly-wrought portals at the entrances. But the spire is the most remarkable portion of the building, and consists of four dragons, the heads at the apex looking towards the four points of the compass.

From the Exchange the party walked to the Fruekirke, or Church of our Lady, which is interesting only on account of the works of Thorwaldsen which it contains. Behind the altar is the majestic and beautiful statue of Christ, which stretches out its wounded hands, as if he were saying, "Come unto me, ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest." On each side of the church are the figures of the twelve apostles, placed against the walls at equal distances, so as to include the whole extent. In the middle of the choir, in front of the altar, is the figure of an angel, holding a baptismal font, in the shape of a shell, which some call Thorwaldsen's masterpiece. In the sacristy of the church are several other works of the great sculptor, who was first interred in this place, before the museum was ready to receive his remains.

Mrs. Kendall declared she had seen enough for one day, for sight-seeing is the hardest work one can do when it is overdone. After supper, when the lady was rested, she consented to visit Tivoli, where the students were to spend the evening. This celebrated resort of the Copenhageners is situated just outside of the old walls of the city, near the arm of the sea which divides Amager from Seeland. One of the two horse-railways, which the people in Europe generally persist in calling "tramways," extends through the city, passing the gates of this garden. Several of the officers and seamen of the ship came by the cars, which hardly differ from those in use in the principal cities of the United States; but all of them have accommodations for passengers on the top.

Captain Lincoln—who had been on board of the ship since he left the party with whom he had spent the afternoon—and Norwood were passengers in a car; but though they could not speak a word of Norsk, they were not disturbed by the situation. Presently the conductor presented himself, which caused a general sounding of pockets among the occupants of the car. He had a tin box, suspended by a strap, which passed around his neck, to contain the money he received. In his hand he held a compact little roll of yellow paper, an inch and a half in width, across which was printed a succession of little tickets, each with a number. The fare was four skillings, or two and one fourth cents, and, as each person paid, the conductor handed him one of these papers, torn from the roll. Captain Lincoln gave him a piece of money, and held up two fingers, pointing to his companion at the same time, to indicate that he paid for both. The man gave him his change, and two of the yellow tickets.



"What are these for?" asked Lincoln, glancing at the little papers.

"They are tickets, of course," replied Norwood.

"I don't think so," added the captain. "All the people seem to throw them away, and the floor of the car is covered with them."

"O, I know now what they are!" exclaimed Norwood. "I have heard of such things."

"I never did."

"I suppose you know what 'knocking down' means—don't you?" laughed the second lieutenant.

"It means stealing."

"Precisely so. It is said that conductors and omnibus drivers at home 'knock down' a good deal, which is the technical name for taking a portion of the fares. They use 'spotters' in our country to keep the conductors and drivers honest."

"Spotters?"

"Yes, that's the name of them. They are men and women, whom the conductors cannot distinguish from other passengers, employed by the railway companies to ride in the cars, and report the number of passengers on certain trips, so that the agents can tell whether the fares are all paid over. These tickets are used for the same purpose."

"I don't see what good they do. They certainly can't keep the men honest, for almost everybody throws away his ticket."

"They are called control-marks," said a gentleman next to the captain, who had been listening with interest to the conversation, and who spoke good English. "The man has to tear one of them off every time a passenger pays him."

"They are all numbered, I see; mine is nine hundred and four," added Lincoln.

"When the man gives up this roll at night, the next number will show how many he has torn off. If he began at No. 200 this morning, he has taken seven hundred and four fares."

"But he might neglect to tear off fifty or a hundred in the course of a day," suggested Lincoln, "and put the money for them in his pocket."

"If he does so, everybody is watching him, and anybody may report him to the agent. I am a share-owner of the company, and for aught the conductor knows, there may be one in every car. If the man neglects his duty, my interest would prompt me to look after him."

"I see; thank you, sir."

"Here is Tivoli," added the gentleman. "I suppose you are going there."

"Yes, sir."

"It is a fine garden, and very cheap."

The young officers left the car, and bought tickets at the gate, for which they paid one mark, or nine cents, each. Near the entrance they found a man selling programmes of the evening's entertainment, at two skillings each. Captain Lincoln bought one, for he carefully preserved every handbill, ticket, or programme for future reference. He could read a little of it. The performances were varied, and covered the time from six o'clock till midnight. But the young officers preferred to take a general view of the premises. It was an extensive garden, prettily and tastefully laid out, with accommodations for concerts, circus, and theatrical performances. In the centre was a "beer garden," with table and seats, for little parties, who drank their beer and chatted, while a band played in a kiosk. Near it was a bazaar, where all kinds of fancy articles were arranged for sale, with the attendant raffles and lotteries. Farther removed from the centre was a theatre, consisting, however, of only the stage, the audience seating themselves in the open air. The performance, from six to seven, as the captain read in his programme, was

R1. 6. Entree gymnastique af Brodrene Hermann.

Or, in plain English, a gymnastic exhibition by the brothers Hermann.

In the circus there was a performance at half past seven, such as one sees in the United States, and "Hr. Wallet" was clown. At half past nine o'clock, another exhibition was given in an enclosed building, to which an extra admission fee was charged. At the theatre, dancing by some "celebrated sisters" was in progress at nine o'clock. A Russian mountain was in operation during the whole evening. It was a railroad down one inclined plane, and up another, and back over the same track, a ride costing a few skillings. The concert was continued at intervals during the entire evening. The "cafe chantant" was in full blast after nine o'clock, in two places, one of which was a small hall, with a bar, and the other the interior of a Swiss cottage, with a gallery surrounding it. In each of these were tables, where the audience seated themselves, and drank brandy, wine, beer, and milder beverages. The singers, who are all females, stood upon a stage, and were accompanied by a piano. After one or two songs had been sung, one of the singers passed around among the audience with a plate to receive their contributions, each person generally giving a small copper coin. This order was continually repeated, and the money thus received is the only salary of the performers, whose singing is villanously vile, and whose character is worse than their singing. A canal, extending from the sea, comes up to Tivoli, and passes around an island. Boats are to let here; and, indeed, there is no end to the variety of amusements, and "all for nine cents," as Joseph had said half a dozen times during the afternoon to his party, and a dozen times more during the evening. At half past ten the students returned to the squadron, for by that time they had seen all they desired.



CHAPTER XVI.

AN EXCURSION TO KLAMPENBORG AND ELSINORE.

Peaks sat near the brig and read his book, which he had procured from the librarian in anticipation of a dull and heavy afternoon. Clyde sat in his cage, watching the boatswain. The book was evidently a very interesting one, for the reader hardly raised his eyes from it for a full hour, and then only to bestow a single glance upon the occupant of the ship's prison. The volume was Peter Simple, and the boatswain relished the adventures of the hero. Once in a while his stalwart frame was shaken by an earthquake of laughter, for he had a certain sense of dignity which did not permit him to laugh outright all alone by himself, and so the shock was diffused through all his members, and his body quaked like that of a man in the incipient throes of a fever and ague fit. The magnanimous conduct of O'Brien, who flogged Peter for seasickness, simply because he loved him, proved to be almost too much for the settled plan of the boatswain, and it was with the utmost difficulty that he restrained an outbreak of laughter.

For a full quarter of an hour Clyde convinced himself that he was entirely satisfied with the situation. The brig was not a bad place, or, at least, it would not be, if the boatswain would only leave the steerage and allow the prisoner to be by himself. He wished very much to try the carpenter's saw upon the slats of his prison. At the end of the second quarter of an hour, the Briton was slightly nervous; the close of the third found him rather impatient, and at the expiration of an hour, he was decidedly provoked with Peaks for staying where he was so long. When the stout sentinel glanced at him, he flattered himself with a transitory hope; but the boatswain only changed his position slightly, and still appeared to be as deeply absorbed as ever in the book.