Clyde was disgusted, and emphatically angry at the end of another half hour. The brig was a vile place, and putting a free-born Briton into such a den was the greatest indignity which had yet been offered to him. It was even worse than ordering him to be silent, or to go forward. It was an insult which required both redress and vengeance. He rose from his seat, and walked to the door of his prison, but with his gaze still fixed upon his jailer. He had come to the conclusion that, if he moved, Peaks would, at least, look at him; but that worthy did not raise his eyes from his book. Clyde took hold of the barred door and began to shake it, making considerable noise by the act. Peaks took no notice whatever of him, and it seemed just as though the boatswain intended to insult him by thus disregarding him. He shook the door again with more violence, but did not succeed in attracting the attention of his custodian. Then he began to kick the door. Making a run of the length of the brig, he threw himself against it with all the force he could, hoping to break it down; but he might as well have butted against the side of the ship. It yielded a little, and rattled a great deal; but it was too strong to be knocked down in any such manner.

The prisoner was boiling over with wrath, as much because Peaks did not notice him, as on account of the indignity of his confinement. He kicked, wrenched, and twisted at the door, till he had nearly exhausted his own strength, apparently without affecting that of the door. The boatswain still read, and still shook with suppressed laughter at the funny blunders and situations of Peter Simple. He had seen just such fellows as Clyde in the brig; had seen them behave just as the present prisoner did; and he had learned that it was better to let them have their own way till they were satisfied, for boys are always better satisfied when they solve such problems for themselves.

"I'm not going to stay in this place!" howled Clyde, when he had wasted all his powers upon the obstinate door.

"No?"

The boatswain happened to be at the end of a chapter in his book, and he closed the volume, uttering only the single negative participle, with the interrogative inflection, as he glanced at his charge in the brig.

"No, I'm not!" roared Clyde, rousing from his seat, upon which he had dropped in sheer exhaustion, and throwing himself desperately against the unyielding door. "I won't stay in here any longer!"

"Well, now, I thought you would," added Peaks, with the most provoking calmness.

"I won't!"

"But it seems to me that you do stay there."

"I won't any longer."

"Well?"

"I'll send for the British minister."

"Do."

"I won't stand it any longer."

"Sit down, then."

Clyde dashed himself against the door again with all the remaining force he had; but the boatswain, apparently unmoved, opened his book again. It was terribly lacerating to the feelings of the Briton to be so coolly disregarded and ignored. Clyde had the saw, but he had sense enough left to know that any attempt to use it would attract the attention of his jailer, and end in the loss of the implement, with which he could remove a couple of the slats when left alone, or when all hands were asleep at night. Finding that violence accomplished nothing, he seated himself on his stool,—which, however, was far from being the stool of repentance,—and considered the situation more calmly. He was in a profuse perspiration from the energy of his useless exertions. Perhaps he was conscious that he had made a fool of himself, and that his violence was as impolitic as it was useless. In a few moments he was as quiet as a lamb, and remained so for half an hour, though his bondage was no less galling than before.

"Mr. Peaks," said he, in the gentlest of tones.

"Well, my lad, what shall I do for you?" replied the boatswain, closing his book, and going to the door of the brig.

"I'm very thirsty, and want a glass of water. Will you give me one?"

"Certainly, my boy."

The boatswain passed a mug of water through the bars, and Clyde drank as though he was really thirsty.

"You have worked hard, and it makes you dry," said Peaks. "You can keep a mug of water in the brig if you like."

"I will," replied Clyde, as he placed the mug on the deck, after the boatswain had filled it. "Can't you let me out, Mr. Peaks?"

"Certainly I can."

"You will—won't you?"

"With all my heart."

"Do, if you please."

"On certain conditions, you know."

"What conditions?"

"That you won't attempt to run away. But, my lad, it is only a few hours since you said the brig was a very nice place, and you would grow gray in it before you would promise not to leave when you got a good chance."

"I hadn't tried it, then. But I think it is an insult to a fellow to put him in here. I would rather be flogged outright."

"We don't flog the boys."

"I would rather take a flogging, and have it done with."

"That's one of the reasons why we don't do it. We don't want to have it done with till the boy means to do about right. You are a smart boy, my lad; but you have got a heap of bad blood in your veins, which ought to be worked off. If you would only do your duty like a man, you would be comfortable and happy."

"I never can stay in this ship."

"Why not?"

"I don't understand the duty."

"You will soon learn all the ropes in the ship, and they will all come as handy to you as the key of your own watch."

Clyde pulled out his watch, and glanced at the boatswain.

"That's a nice time-keeper you have, my lad; gold, I suppose."

"Yes; it cost thirty pounds. Wouldn't you like it?"

"I?"

"Yes."

"Well, I have a pretty good silver one, which answers my purpose very well," replied Peaks, smiling.

"I'll give it to you, if you will let me out, and permit me to go on shore," added Clyde, in an insinuating tone.

"Thank you, my lad, I don't want it bad enough to do that."

"You can sell it, you know. Or I will give you thirty pounds in cash, if you prefer."

"I can't afford to do it for that," laughed the boatswain.

"I'll give you fifty pounds then," persisted Clyde.

"Can't afford to do it for that, either."

"Say sixty, then."

"Say a hundred, if you like, my lad; and then say a thousand. I can't afford to do it for all the money your mother is worth. You are on the wrong tack, my lad. I can't be bought at any price."

"I won't ask you to let me out. If you will only go on deck, and keep out of the way, I will manage it all myself."

"No, no; sheer off, my hearty. When I have a duty to do, I always mean to do it; and if it isn't done, it isn't my fault. You can't leave the ship with my consent."

"I can't stay here, I say. I should die in a month."

"Very well, die like a man, then," said Peaks, good-naturedly; for, though he could not be bought at any price, he did not indulge in any righteous indignation against his victim. "Learn your duty, and then do it. There is plenty of fun going on in the ship, and you will enjoy yourself as soon as you get on the right tack. That's the up and down of the whole matter."

"I can't take off my cap to these young squirts of officers, and be ordered around by them. It isn't in an Englishman to do anything of the sort."

"Upon my word, I think it is in them. They make first-rate sailors, and always obey their officers."

"Common sailors do; but I'm a gentleman."

"So am I; but I always obey orders," replied the democratic Peaks, warmly. "The officers of this ship are required to behave like gentlemen, and give their orders in a gentlemanly manner. If they don't do it, they are liable to be reduced. Do your duty, and you may be an officer yourself."

Peaks continued for some time to give the prisoner good advice, assuring him that he was no better than the rest of the crew, and that it would not hurt him any more than others to obey the orders of the officers. But it was sowing seed in stony ground, and Clyde, finding he could make nothing out of the honest boatswain, decided to await his time with what patience he could command, which, however, was not much. Peaks was permitted to follow Peter Simple in his stirring career during the rest of the afternoon. The crew returned from Tivoli at eleven in the evening, and soon the ship was quiet, with only an anchor watch, consisting of an officer on the quarter-deck, and two seamen on the forecastle.

Clyde's supper was given to him in his prison, and a bed made up for his use. He kept awake till all the students came on board, and while he was waiting for the crew to slumber, he dropped asleep himself, and did not wake till all hands were called in the morning. He was vexed with himself for his neglect, and afraid that the carpenter would miss the saw, and remember where he had left it. He was determined to keep awake the next night, and make his escape, even if he was obliged to swim to the land.

After breakfast, all the students went on shore for an excursion to Klampenborg and Elsinore. In the custom-house enclosure, a procession of four in a rank was formed, to march to the railroad station, which was near the Tivoli Garden. The students were generally rather fond of processions, not at home, but in the streets of foreign cities. The parade was quite imposing, when every officer and seaman wore his best uniform. They had been carefully taught to march, and Professor Badois had organized a band of eight pieces, which performed a few tunes very well. Unfortunately, on the present occasion, the band was not available, for Stockwell, the cornet player, and Boyden, the bass drummer, belonged to the absent crew of the second cutter, and the procession moved to the sterling notes of the drum and fife.

On parades of this kind, the first and second pursers acted as the fleet staff of the commodore, who would otherwise have been "alone in his glory," and these two useful officers seemed like "odds and ends" in any other position. As this procession was frequently formed, and marched through the streets of various cities, the order is given to satisfy the reasonable curiosity of the reader.

Music. The Commodore, And Staff of the Fleet. The Captain of the Young America. The Four Masters. The Four Midshipmen. The First Lieutenant. The First Part of the Starboard Watch, Consisting of Eighteen Seamen. The Second Lieutenant. The Second Part of the Starboard Watch. The Third Lieutenant. The First Part of the Port Watch. The Fourth Lieutenant. The Second Part of the Port Watch. The Captain of the Josephine. The Four Masters. The First Lieutenant. The First Part of the Starboard Watch, Consisting of Eight Seamen. The Second Lieutenant. The Second Part of the Starboard Watch. The Third Lieutenant. The First Part of the Port Watch. The Fourth Lieutenant. The Second Part of the Port Watch. The Captain of the Tritonia. The Four Masters. The First Lieutenant. The First Part of the Starboard Watch, Consisting of Eight Seamen. The Second Lieutenant. The Second Part of the Starboard Watch. The Third Lieutenant. The First Part of the Port Watch. The Fourth Lieutenant. The Second Part of the Port Watch.

Sometimes the order was varied by placing all the officers at the head of the procession, except the lieutenants in command of sections, as,—

The Commodore and Staff. The three Captains. Three ranks of Masters. One rank of Midshipmen.

But keeping all the officers and seamen of each vessel together, as in the first order, was generally preferred. Of course the ranks were not always full, as on the present occasion; but even when the full band was at the head of the column, there were enough for four full ranks in each half-watch of the ship, and two ranks in those of the other vessels. The students had practised so much that they marched exceedingly well, and being aligned according to their height, the effect was very fine. The Copenhageners left their occupations, and hastened to the doors and windows of their houses and shops to see the procession; and even the king and royal family were spectators at the palace windows, as the column moved through Frederiksplads. As it passed the Royal Hotel, Mr. and Mrs. Kendall, with Dr. Winstock and Joseph, were entering a carriage, in which they intended to ride to Klampenborg, in order to see more of the country. At the railroad station, the officers and seamen took seats in the third-class carriages, which were two stories high, the upper as well as the lower one having a roof. The distance to Klampenborg is eight and a half English miles, and the fare is sixteen skillings, or nine cents, third class; twenty-four skillings, or thirteen and a half cents, second class; and thirty-two skillings, or eighteen cents, first class. The third-class compartments are clean and neat, but there are no cushions on the seats. An aisle extends through the middle of them, but the seats are placed in pairs, on each side, so that half the passengers are compelled to ride backwards. In about half an hour the train arrived at Klampenborg.

Paul Kendall's party drove first to the summer residence of Mr. Melchoir, which was in the suburbs of the city, near the sea-shore. The house was a very pretty one, with a neat garden, not unlike the little country places one sees in the vicinity of the large cities of the United States. Joseph rang the bell, and stated the errand of the party to the servant. They were shown up one flight of stairs, where the girl knocked at the door, which was immediately opened by Hans Christian Andersen, and the tourists were ushered into a plainly-furnished room, with a few engravings on the walls. On a table were the writing-materials of the great author, and Paul looked with interest at the little pile of letter sheets, closely written over, and the unfinished one, on which the ink was not yet dry.

Mr. Andersen's face was covered with a smile as he greeted the party. Dr. Winstock had met him before, and stated the fact.

"O, I'm very glad to see you again," said the author, grasping the doctor's hand with both of his own.

"My young friend here, and his lady, have both read all your books, and desired to see you even more than to look upon the beautiful works of your great sculptor."

"Ah, you are very kind," added Mr. Andersen, again grasping the doctor's hand with both of his own.

Then, darting nervously to Paul, he seized his hand in the same manner.

"This is Captain Paul Kendall, commander of the yacht Grace," added Dr. Winstock.

"I am so pleased to see you!" said Mr. Andersen.

"I have read all your books with the most intense pleasure."

"O, you are too kind, Captain Kendall," replied the genial author, smiling all over his face, and once more grasping his hand as before.

"Mrs. Kendall," added Paul, presenting Grace.

"I am so pleased to see you! You are very kind to take so much trouble to visit me."

"Indeed, sir, you are very kind to permit us to trouble you, when you are so busy," continued Paul.

"O, I have plenty of time to see my good friends."

"In America we love your books, and they are in all our libraries and most of our houses."

"You are so kind to speak so pleasantly of my works!" replied Mr. Andersen, grasping Paul's hand again.

"We value them very highly."

The conversation continued for a few moments, in which Paul and the doctor expressed the high appreciation of the reading public of the great writer's works. At least a dozen times more he grasped the hand of the speaker with both his. Mr. Andersen is a tall gentleman, with a thin face,—the features of which are far from handsome,—and iron-gray hair. His countenance is always covered with smiles when he speaks, and his whole manner is child-like and simple. He is full of the love of God and of man, which seems to shine out in his face, and to be the interpretation of his ever-present smile. His dress was scrupulously neat and nice in every detail.

The doctor told him about the Academy squadron, of which he had read a brief notice in the newspapers, and invited him to visit the ship, which he promised to do, on the following day. The party took their leave of him, and continued on the way to Klampenborg. The road was on the margin of the sea, and was lined with small country houses, with pleasant gardens. It was a lovely region, with an occasional large villa, and even a summer palace or two. All along this road, called the Strandway, are small and large houses of entertainment, on the sea-side, each one of which has a bathing establishment on a very small and simple scale.

"Here is Charlottelund Castle, in this park," said Joseph, as they passed what seemed to be merely a grove, with a rather dilapidated fence.

"It was formerly the country-seat of the Landgrave of Hesse, I believe," added Dr. Winstock.

"Yes, sir; but it is now the summer residence of the crown prince. He comes out here in June."

"These carriages are called 'privateers,'" continued the guide, pointing to several vehicles like a small omnibus with no top. "They formerly went by the name of 'coffee-mills,' because they made a noise like those machines."

Constantia Tea-Garden, where the Copenhageners go to spend the evening in hot weather, and several fishing villages, were passed, and then the carriage reached the Deer Park, where the students had already arrived, which is a very extensive enclosure, with a few roads extending through it. A portion of it is covered with groves, and it contains about a thousand deer, which are quite tame, and may be seen grazing in herds on the gentle slopes. There is nothing very attractive in the park, though it is much frequented by the people from the city. Neither the roads nor the grounds are well kept, and the government "turns an honest penny" by the letting of it out for the pasturage of horses. On some rising ground, which Denmarkers call a hill, is a large, square, barn-like building, known as the "Hermitage," which was built by Christian VI. for a hunting lodge. This park and that at Charlottelund contain thousands of acres of excellent land, which is almost useless, and which the government cannot afford to keep in condition as pleasure-grounds. They would make thousands of farms, and thus increase the productive industry and the revenues of the nation, if they could be cut up and sold. Royalty is an expensive luxury, which a small kingdom like Denmark cannot afford to support.

Near the entrance to the park is the garden proper of Klampenborg, where music is provided on summer evenings, and refreshments sold. What is called a Norwegian house is erected in the middle of the grounds, which contains a bar and private rooms, and is surrounded by tables and chairs, where the pleasure-seekers may sit and enjoy their beer and the music. A small fee for admission is paid at the gate, where the ticket-seller is kept honest by the aid of the "control-mark." Near this garden is a hotel built for a water-cure establishment, though it is now mainly used as a summer boarding-house. Close by it is a village of small cottages, devoted to the same use, with concert-rooms and bathing-houses in abundance. This place is a favorite resort of the Copenhageners in summer,—in fact, their Newport or Long Branch. For a couple of hours the students wandered through the park and gardens. The railroad station is very near the entrance, where, indeed, the whole beauty of the place is concentrated.

The railway to Klampenborg is a branch of the one which extends from Copenhagen to Elsinore, and in another hour the entire party were transported to the latter place. This town has nine or ten thousand inhabitants, and is located on a basin of the Sound, nearly land-locked by natural and artificial dikes. The Danish name of the place is Helsingoer, and is the scene of Shakespeare's tragedy of Hamlet. The excursionists visited the cathedral, which is the principal object of interest in Elsinore, and contains several very old tombs. Near the town, and on the shore of the Sound, is the Castle of Kronberg, erected in 1580. It is a large, oblong, Gothic structure, built of a whitish stone. It contains a chapel and other apartments. Those occupied by the commandant were the prison of Caroline Matilda, who was confined here for a high crime, of which she is now universally believed to be innocent.

Under the castle are casemates for a thousand men, one of which is said to be the abode of Holger Danske, who was the Cid Campeador of Denmark, and the hero of a thousand legends. When the state is in peril, he is supposed to march at the head of the armies, but never shows himself at any other time. A farmer, says the story, happened into his gloomy retreat by accident, and found him seated at a stone table, to which his long white beard had grown. The mystic hero demanded the hand of his visitor, who was afraid to trust flesh and blood in the grasp of one so mighty, and offered the iron bar used to fasten the door. Holger Danske seized it, and squeezed it so hard that he left the print of his fingers on the iron.

"Ha, I see there are still men in Denmark!" said he, with a grim smile of satisfaction.

Near the castle are a couple of natural ponds, small and round, which are called "Holger Danske's Spectacles."

"This is where Hamlet lived, I suppose," said Captain Lincoln.

"Where Shakespeare says he lived," replied Dr. Winstock.

"But I was told his grave was here."

"Perhaps Hamlet divided himself up, and occupied a dozen graves, for I think you may find a dozen of them here," laughed the doctor. "A resident of this vicinity had what was called the grave of Hamlet in his grounds, which proved to be a nuisance to him, on account of the great number of visitors who came to see it. In order to relieve himself of this injury to his garden, he got up another 'grave of Hamlet,' in another place, which he proved to be the authentic one."

"It is too bad to trifle with history in that manner," protested the captain.

"There is no history about it, Lincoln. His residence in this part of Denmark is all a fiction. Shakespeare makes terrible blunders in his allusions to this place; for there is no 'eastern hill,' no 'dreadful summit of the cliff,' or anything of the sort. Hamlet lived in Jutland, not in Seeland, about four centuries before Christ, and was the son of a pirate chief, instead of a king, who, with his brother, was governor of the province. He married the daughter of the king, who was Hamlet's mother. The chief was murdered by his brother, who married the widow, and was then the sole governor. Hamlet, in order to avenge his father's death, feigned madness; but his uncle, suspecting the trick, sent him to England, with a message carved in wood, requesting the king to destroy him. During the voyage, he obtained the wooden letter, and altered it so as to make it ask for the killing of the two men, creatures of his uncle, who had charge of him, which was done on their arrival. According to the style of romances, he married the king's daughter, and afterwards returned to Jutland, where, still pretending insanity, he contrived to surprise and slay his uncle. He succeeded his victim as governor, and married a second time, to a queen of Scotland, and was finally killed in battle. The main features of the tragedy correspond with the incidents of the story, but the locality is not correct."

The party walked to Marienlyst, a pleasant watering-place, which contains a small royal chateau. The view from this place, as from the tower of Kronberg, is very beautiful. At four o'clock the party took the steamer, and arrived at Copenhagen before dark.



CHAPTER XVII.

TO STOCKHOLM BY GOETA CANAL.

The Wadstena, in which the absentees had taken passage at Gottenburg, was a small steamer, but very well fitted up for one of her size. Forward was the saloon, in which meals were taken, and saloon passengers slept. Aft was the cabin, on each side of which were state-rooms, called "huette." They were not made with regular berths, but had a sofa on each side of the door, on which the beds were made up at night, with a wash-stand between them. Between this cabin and the forward saloon the main deck was raised about three feet, so as to cover the engine and boilers. On each side of this higher deck were more "huette," which were the best rooms on board. The hurricane-deck, over the after cabin, was the favorite resort of the passengers.

It was two o'clock in the morning, and the independent excursionists were tired and sleepy. They had taken first-class tickets, and two of them had been assigned to each "huette." As soon as they went on board, therefore, they retired, and most of them slept, in spite of the fleas and other vermin that revelled in their banquet of blood. None but very tired boys could have slumbered under such unfavorable circumstances, and it is a great pity that a steamer otherwise so neat and comfortable should be given up to the dominion of these sleep-destroying insects.

At seven the party turned out, anxious to see the scenery on the banks of the canal. The steamer was still in the river, a stream not more than a hundred and fifty feet wide, with occasional rapids, which are passed by canals, with locks in them. The scenery was pleasant, with rocky hills on each side. Schooners and other craft were continually met, loaded with lumber and other articles from the lakes. The scene was novel and interesting, and though the boys gaped fearfully, they enjoyed the view.

Presently one of the women, who do all the work of stewards and waiters, appeared with coffee on deck, passing the cups to the passengers first, and then filling them. The coffee was delicious, served with the whitest of sugar and the richest of cream, with some little biscuits. It waked the boys up, and seemed to make new beings of them.

"How's this, Sanford?" said Scott.

"First rate! That's the best coffee I ever drank in my life," replied the coxswain.

"Is it a free blow?"

"I don't know. How is it, Ole?"

"No; you pay at the end of the trip for all you have had," replied the waif.

"But who keeps the account?" asked Scott.

"Nobody," laughed Ole. "On the boats from Christiania every passenger tells what he has had, and pays for it."

"Do they think everybody is honest?"

"Certainly; everybody is honest."

"Not much," added Sanford, shaking his head. "Of course you don't pretend to be honest, Norway."

"But I do."

"You didn't take a sovereign from me, and another from Burchmore—did you?"

"I take what you give me."

"It may be honest, but I don't see it in that light, Norway."

"Never mind that now, Sanford," interposed Burchmore. "He sold out the last time for the public good."

"Do you expect to find the ship in Stockholm when we get there?" asked Scott.

"Of course I do," replied Sanford. "We shall not get there till Tuesday."

"Then our cruise is almost ended."

"I suppose so. I have been trying hard to join the ship ever since we left her at Christiansand," continued the coxswain, solemnly.

"Over the left," chuckled Scott.

"Honor bright! I don't believe in running away."

"Nor I; but Laybold and I have put our foot into it. I suppose we shall have to spend a week in the brig, and make love to Peaks while the rest of the fellows are seeing Russia."

"You will find some way to get out of the scrape."

"I don't know. We have lost Copenhagen and Denmark already, and I suppose we shall not see much of Russia."

"We will help you out."

"I don't think you can do it," added Scott, who had evidently come to the conclusion that running away "did not pay."

The steamer stopped, and the captain informed the party that passengers usually walked three miles around the series of locks, by which they were enabled to see the Falls of Trollhaetten. The carrying of the canal around these falls was the most difficult problem in engineering in the construction of the work. It is cut through the solid rock, and contains sixteen locks. The passage of the steamer occupies an hour and a half, which affords ample time for the voyagers to see the falls. The party immediately landed, and were promptly beset by a dozen ragged boys, who desired to act as guides, where no such persons are needed. Not one of them spoke a word of English; but they led the way to the path, each one selecting his own victims, and trusting to the magnanimity of the passengers for their pay. A walk, covered with saw-dust, has been made by some public-spirited persons, and the excursion is a very pleasant one.

The entire fall of the river is one hundred and twelve feet; but it is made in four principal cataracts, and three smaller ones. The scenery in the vicinity is rather picturesque, and at one point the path goes through a grove, on the banks of a rivulet, where the water dashes over large cobble-stones, with an occasional pretty cascade. The walk leads to various eligible spots for examining the falls and the rapids. On the way, the tourist passes Kungsgrottan, or King's Grotto. It is a hole in the solid rock, in the shape of half a globe, on the sides of which are inscribed the names of the various sovereigns of Sweden, and other distinguished persons who have visited the spot. Near the village of Trollhaetten, which contains several founderies and saw-mills, the finest part of the falls is seen by crossing an iron foot-bridge, at the gate of which stands a woman, who collects a toll of fifty oere for the passage to the little island.

"I don't think much of these falls," said Scott, as he returned from the island.

"I think they are rather fine," replied Laybold.

"You could cut up the rapids of Niagara into about two hundred just such falls, to say nothing of the big cataract itself," added Scott. "It is pleasant, this walk along the river, but you can't call the Falls of Trollhaetten a big thing."

"Of course they don't compare with Niagara."

"Certainly not."

The party walked through the yards of the manufactories, and came to a small hotel on the bank of the canal. The place looked very much like many American villages. The canal steamer did not appear for half an hour, and some of the boys strolled about the place. The regiment of ragged boys who had followed the tourists, or led the way, pointing out the various falls and other points of interest in an unknown tongue, begged lustily for the payment for their services. One of them, who had taken Scott and Laybold under his protection, was particularly urgent in his demands.

"Not a red, my hearty," replied Scott. "I didn't engage you, and I shall not pay you."

The boy still held out his hand, and said something which no one of the party could understand.

"Exactly so," replied Scott. "You told me the names of all the places, but I did not understand a word you said. I say, my lad, when did you escape from the rag-bag?"

The boy uttered a few words in Swedish.

"Is that so?"

The boy spoke again.

"Stick to it, my hearty; but I don't believe a word of it."

"What does he say, Scott?"

"He says the moon is made of green cheese. Didn't you, my lad?"

The boy nodded, and spoke again.

"It is a hard case, Young Sweden; but I can't do anything for you."

"What's a hard case, Scott?" asked Laybold.

"Why, he says he has six fathers and five mothers, and he has to support them all by guiding tourists round the falls."

"Get out!"

"I am afraid they don't have roast beef for dinner every day."

"Here's the steamer," added Laybold.

The boy became more importunate as the time came to go on board, but Scott was obstinate.

"Now, out of my way, my lad. Give my regards to your six fathers and five mothers, and I'll remember you in my will; but I won't give you a solitary red now, because I don't like the principle of the thing. I didn't employ you, and I didn't want you. I told you so, and shook my head at you, and told you to get behind me, Satan, and all that sort of thing; and now I'm not going to pay you for making a nuisance of yourself. On the naked question of charity, I could do something for you, on account of your numerous fathers and mothers. As it is, good by, Sweden;" and Scott went on board of the steamer.

The boat started again, and soon the bell rang for breakfast. The boys hastened to the forward saloon, where they found two tables spread. At a sideboard was the Swedish lunch, or snack, of herring, sliced salmon, various little fishes, sausage, and similar delicacies, with the universal decanter of "finkel," flanked with a circle of wine glasses. The tourists partook of the eatables, but most of them were wise enough to avoid the drinkable. The Swedish bread, which is a great brown cracker, about seven inches in diameter, was considered very palatable. Ordinary white bread is served on steamers and at hotels, and also a dark-colored bread, which looks like rye, and is generally too sour for the taste of a foreigner. The breakfast at the tables consisted of fried veal, and fish, with vegetables, and all the elements of the snack. When the boys had finished, one of the women handed Scott a long narrow blank book.

"Thank you, marm; I am much obliged to you," said he. "Will you have the kindness to inform me what this is for?"

The woman laughed, and answered him in her native tongue.

"Precisely so," added Scott.

"What does she say?" asked Sanford.

"She wants me to write a love letter in this book to her; but as she is rather ancient, I shall decline in your favor, Sanford."

"Don't do it, old fellow! Face the music."

"Not for Joseph!"

"What did she say, Ole?" inquired Sanford.

"She said you were to keep your account in that book," replied the interpreter.

"Are we to keep our own reckoning?"

"Yes; every one puts down in this book what he has had."

"That means you, Burchmore. You are the cashier for the party."

"How many fellows had coffee this morning?" asked the cashier, as he took the book.

"All of them, of course."

Burchmore made the entries for the coffee and the breakfasts of the whole party.

"Well, that's one way to do the thing," said Scott. "Every man his own book-keeper. I'll bet everybody doesn't charge what he has had."

Ole was requested to ask the woman about the matter. She said the Swedes were honest, but the waiters were required to see that everybody paid for what he had had before leaving the steamer. The having of this book is certainly a better plan than that of the Norwegian steamers, by which the passenger, if he means to be honest, is compelled to recollect all he has had in a passage of thirty hours.

The Wadstena continued on her course through a rather flat country, just coming into the greenness and beauty of the spring time, till she came to Wenersberg, a town of five thousand inhabitants, which is largely engaged in the lumber and iron trade. The boat stopped there a short time, and the party had an opportunity to examine the lake craft at the wharves; but, after seeing them, it was difficult to believe they were not in some New England coast town. The steamers, however, were very different, all of them being very short, to enable them to pass through the locks in the canal, and most of them having the hurricane deck forward and aft, to afford sufficient space for the cabins. All of them were propellers.

The Wadstena started again, the bridges opening to permit her passage. The great Wenern Lake lay before them, which is the third in size in Europe, Onega and Ladoga alone exceeding it in extent. It is about a hundred miles long by fifty in breadth, very irregular in shape, and portions of it are densely crowded with islands. Its greatest depth is three hundred and sixty feet near the Island of Luroe, but a considerable part of it is very shallow, and difficult of navigation. It is one hundred and forty-five feet above the level of the Baltic. Thirty rivers flow into it, and sometimes cause it to rise ten feet above its ordinary level. But the Goeta River is its only outlet, and is always supplied with an abundant volume of water. The wind was fresh when the Wadstena steamed out upon the broad expanse, and the lake had a decidedly stormy aspect.

"Will you be seasick?" asked the captain, as the little steamer began to bob up and down with a very uncomfortable jerk.

"Seasick!" laughed Scott. "We are all sailors, sir, and we don't intend to cave in on a fresh-water pond."

"But the lake is very rough to-day."

"If your little tub can stand it, captain, we can."

"I am very glad, for some people are very sick on this part of the passage. It is sometimes very bad, the worst we have in the whole trip."

"How long are we on the lake?" asked Scott.

"About seven hours; but not all of it is so bad as this. We go among the islands by and by."

Doubtless the Wenern Lake fully maintained its reputation on the present occasion, though none of the young salts were sick. The boat stood to the northward, and the short steamer and the short chop sea would have made the passage very trying to landsmen. Nothing but the distant shores were to be seen, and the monotony of the passage was the only disagreeable circumstance to our tourists. For the want of something better to do, they went below, and, lying down on the sofas in their state-rooms, went to sleep without much difficulty, for the red-backs and fleas kept shady in the daytime. The boys were accustomed to being "rocked in the cradle of the deep;" but at the expiration of three hours, the heavy motion ceased, and the change waked them. Going on the hurricane deck again, they found the steamer was among the islands, which were generally low, rocky, and covered with firs and pines. A crooked channel was carefully buoyed off, and the boat was threading its tortuous way with no little difficulty.

Presently the Wadstena made a landing at a rude pier on an island where only a rough shanty was in sight. Several row-boats at the wharf indicated that passengers came to this station from other islands. Again the steamer went out upon the open lake, and soon after entered another group of islands, among which she made a landing at a small town. Passing over another open space, the entrance to the canal was discovered, marked by two low light-houses, in the form of the frustum of a pyramid. As the Wadstena entered a lock, the captain told the party they might take a walk if they pleased, as there were several locks to pass in the next three miles. This was a grateful relief to the voyagers, and they gladly availed themselves of the opportunity. The country was a dead level, with an occasional small farm-house, and with many groves and forests. But the walk was interesting, and the boys would gladly have continued it longer; but at the last lock of the series, the gate-man told them, through Ole, that they must wait here in order to go on board, for the steamer could not make a landing again for several miles. The party remained on the hurricane deck till the cold and the darkness drove them below. Turning in at an early hour, they slept as well as the vermin would allow, until six o'clock the next morning, when the steamer was approaching the Wettern Lake, the second in size in Sweden. The boat was on a broad arm of the lake, called the Viken, for the canal is built only across the narrowest section of country, between two natural bodies of water.

The Wettern Lake is ninety miles long and fifteen miles wide, surrounded by hills, from which sudden gusts of wind come, producing violent squalls on the water. This lake is noted for big trout. After crossing the Wettern, the steamer approached Wadstena, which contains an ancient church and convent, and a castle built by Gustavus Vasa, and often occupied by his family. Ten miles farther brought the steamer to Motala, which contains several iron founderies and manufactories. Many iron steamers and steam engines are built at this place. The scenery on this portion of the canal is very beautiful, though not grand. Going through another portion of the artificial canal, the boat enters the Roxen Lake, perhaps the most beautiful in Sweden, and makes a landing at Linkoeping. There are half a dozen towns with this termination in the country, as Norrkoeping, Soederkoeping, Joenkoeping, the last two syllables being pronounced like chepping; as, Lin-chep-ping.

Leaving the Roxen Lake, the steamer passes through more canals into an arm of the Baltic, and then into the sea itself, voyaging among a thousand small islands, stopping at Soederkoeping and Nykoeping, important commercial and manufacturing towns. Night came, and our tourists did not stay up to see the lights on the way. The steamer leaves the Baltic, and passing another piece of canal, enters the waters of the Maeler Lake, seventy-five miles long, and containing fourteen hundred islands. The boys were up in season to see the beauties of this lake. Many of the islands rise to a considerable height above the water, and are so thick that one hardly believes he is sailing on a large lake. For quiet beauty and "eternal stillness," the Maeler can hardly be surpassed. In the middle of the forenoon, the spires of Stockholm were to be seen, and the tourists were all attention. From the lake the city presents a fine appearance. Indeed, Stockholm, seen from either of its water approaches, is hardly excelled in beauty by any city in Europe.

The Wadstena made her landing at the Island of Riddarholm. As the party were not burdened with any baggage, they decided to walk to the hotel. Ole inquired the way to the Hotel Rydberg, where they had agreed to go; and crossing a bridge to the largest of the three islands of the city, called Stadeholm, they arrived at the palace, beyond which is the quay. Between this island and the main land, on which the greater portion of the town is built, is the passage from the Baltic to the Maeler Lake, and in the middle of it is the Island of Helgeandsholm, or Holy Ghost's Island, with two bridges connecting it with either side. On it are the king's stables, and a semicircular garden, improved as a cafe, with a handsome face wall on the water side.

"This isn't bad," said Scott, as the party paused to look down into the garden.

"Not at all," replied Sanford. "I suppose they have music here in the evening, and it would be a capital place to loaf."

"See the steamers!" exclaimed Laybold, as a couple of the miniature craft, which abound in the waters of Stockholm, whisked up to the quay.

"A fellow could put half a dozen of them into his trousers pocket," laughed Scott. "We must go on a cruise in some of them, as soon as we get settled."

"Well, where's the hotel?" asked Sanford.

It was in plain sight from the bridge, which they crossed to the Square of Gustavus Adolphus, on which the hotel faced.

"Good morning, young gentlemen. I am happy to see you," said Mr. Blaine, the head steward of the ship, who was the first person to greet them as they entered the hotel.

"Ah, Mr. Blaine!" exclaimed Sanford, his face glowing with apparent satisfaction. "I am delighted to see you; for I was afraid we should never find the ship."

"Were you, indeed? Well, I had the same fear myself. I have been looking for you ever since the ship sailed."

"We have done our best to find the ship, Mr. Blaine," added Sanford.

"O, of course you have; but of course, as you didn't find her, you were not so babyish as to sit down and cry about it."

"Certainly not; still we were very anxious to find her."

"Mr. Peaks says you came down from Christiania before he did."

"Yes, sir."

"And you were so anxious to find the ship, that you took a train to the interior of the country, expecting, no doubt, to come across her on some hill, or possibly on some of these inland lakes," continued Mr. Blaine.

"We were looking for the ship's company. We met Scott and Laybold, who were going into the interior, and we concluded to join them, as they wanted to find their shipmates," replied Sanford, who was now not entirely confident that "the independent excursion without running away" was a success.

"Ah! so you have picked up those two young gentlemen, who ran away," added the head steward, glancing at Scott and Laybold.

"Not exactly, sir; they picked us up," answered the coxswain.

"I think it was a mutual picking up, and we picked each other up," laughed Scott. "We knew that Sanford and his crew were extremely anxious to find the ship's company, and if we joined them we should be sure to come out right."

"Exactly so," laughed Mr. Blaine. "Let me see; after our first day's run on shore, by some mistake you neglected to come on board at night, with the others."

"That was the case exactly. The fact is, we were too drunk to go on board with the others."

"Drunk!" exclaimed Mr. Blaine.

"Such was our melancholy condition, sir," added Scott, shaking his head. "We were invited, in a restaurant, to drink 'finkel,' and not knowing what finkel was, we did drink; and it boozed us exceedingly."

"You are very honest about it, Scott."

"We are about everything, sir. We slept at a hotel, and when we went down to the wharf to go on board, we learned that the ship's company had gone to Trolldoldiddledy Falls. As we felt pretty well, we thought we would take a train, see a little of the inside of Sweden, and meet the ship's company at Squozzlebogchepping."

"Where's that?" asked Mr. Blaine.

"I can't give you the latitude and longitude of the jaw-breaker, but it was at the junction of the two railways, where the party came down from the canal. We were sure we should find our fellows there, but the Swedish figures bothered us, and we made a mistake in the hour the train was due."

"But the Swedish figures are the same as ours," suggested the head steward.

"Are they? Well, I don't know what the matter was, except that we were five minutes too late for the train. That's what's the matter."

"How very unfortunate it was you lost that train!"

"It was, indeed; I couldn't have felt any worse if I had lost my great-grandmother, who died fifty years before I was born. These honest fellows felt bad, too."

"Of course they did."

"We took the next train to Gottenburg; but when we arrived, the ship had sailed for Copenhagen, which I was more anxious to see than any other place in Northern Europe."

"And for that reason you came on to Stockholm."

"No, sir; you are too fast, Mr. Blaine. Your consequent does not agree with the antecedent. There was no steamer for Copenhagen for a couple of days."

"There was a steamer within an hour after you reached Gottenburg in that train, and an hour before the sailing of the canal steamer; and Mr. Peaks went down in her," said Mr. Blaine.

"We didn't know it."

"Certainly you did not."

"We knew of no steamer till Monday, and we were afraid, if we went in her, that we should be too late to join the ship in Copenhagen; and with heroic self-denial, we abandoned our fondly-cherished hope of seeing the capital of Denmark, and hastened on to Stockholm, so as to be sure and not miss the ship again. These honest fellows," said Scott, pointing to Sanford and his companions, "agreed with us that this was the only safe course to take."

"I see that you struggled very violently to join your ship, and I only wonder that such superhuman efforts should have failed."

"They have not failed, sir," protested Scott. "The ship will come here, and we will join her then, or perish in the attempt."

"Are you not afraid some untoward event will defeat your honest intentions?"

"If they are defeated it will not be our fault."

"No, I suppose not; but whom have you there?" inquired the head steward, for the first time observing Ole, who had pressed forward to hear Scott's remarks. "Ole?"

"Yes, sir; that's the valiant Ole, of Norway," replied the joker.

His presence was satisfactorily explained by the coxswain.

"Why did you desire to leave the ship, Ole? Didn't we use you well?" asked Mr. Blaine.

"Very well indeed, sir; but I was bashful, and did not wish to see some people in Christiansand," replied the waif.

"What people?"

Ole evaded all inquiries, as he had a dozen times before, and declined to explain anything relating to his past history. Mr. Blaine said he had heard the party had taken the canal steamer, and he immediately proceeded to Stockholm by railroad. He at once telegraphed to Mr. Lowington at Copenhagen, that he had found all the absentees, and asked for instructions.

"Here's a go, and the game is up," said Sanford, in a whisper, when he met Stockwell alone.

"That's so; what will he do with us?"

"I don't know; I rather like this mode of travelling. But we are caught now."

"Perhaps not; we may find some way out of it. According to Blaine's cue we are to be regarded as runaways. If that is the case, I don't join the ship this summer," said Stockwell, very decidedly.

"Nor I either," added Sanford.

Before dark, Mr. Blaine received a despatch from the principal, directing him to take the next train to Malmoe, which is the town in Sweden opposite Copenhagen. The head steward did not communicate its contents to his charge that night, but he called all of them at four o'clock the next morning, and by good management on his part, they were on the train which left Stockholm at six o'clock. At Katherineholm, where the party ate an excellent breakfast, Mr. Blaine unhappily missed three of his company.



CHAPTER XVIII.

UP THE BALTIC.

The excursionists of the squadron slept soundly after their trip to Elsinore, and Clyde Blacklock, true to the promise he had made to himself, kept awake to watch his chances to escape. Not a sound was to be heard in the ship, and the intense silence was even more trying to the prisoner in the brig than the noise and bustle of the whole crew when awake. Ryder, the fourth lieutenant, and two seamen had the anchor watch on deck. Each officer served two hours, and was required at the stroke of the bell, every half hour, to walk through the steerage, where no light was permitted after nine o'clock.

Clyde took the saw from its hiding-place under the stairs, and commenced work on one of the slats. The instrument was very sharp, but the noise it made promised to betray him, and he was obliged to use it with extreme caution. Bracing the slat with one shoulder, he worked the saw very slowly, so that the wood should not vibrate. The process was very slow, and twice he was obliged to conceal his saw and lie down on the bed at the approach of the officer of the watch. After working more than an hour, he succeeded in cutting off one of the slats, just far enough above the deck to avoid the nails with which it was secured. But it was fastened at the top as well as at the bottom, and when he pulled it in to wrench it from its position, it creaked horribly, and he was obliged to labor with it another half hour, before he could pull it in far enough to permit his exit. In the middle of the operation he was obliged to restore it partly to its position, and lie down again, to escape the observation of the officer of the anchor watch.

His care and patience were finally successful, though, if the sleepers around him had not been very tired, some of them must have been disturbed even by the little noise he made. The removal of the single slat gave him an opening of about nine inches, which was narrow even for him; but he contrived to work himself through it. Putting the slat back into its original position, and wedging it down with a copper, so that the means of his escape might not readily be seen, he crept carefully forward to the ladder under the forecastle, where he paused to consider the means by which he should escape from the vessel. He began to realize that this was a more difficult matter than getting out of the brig. He knew that the anchor watch consisted of an officer and two seamen.

While he was thinking of the matter, eight bells struck; and he was aware that the watch was changed at this hour. Retiring to the kitchen to wait for a more favorable moment, he heard the two seamen come down the ladder to call the relief. As they entered one of the mess-rooms, he ran up the ladder, and concealed himself under the top-gallant forecastle. In a few moments he heard the relief on deck, and from his hiding-place saw the officer on the quarter-deck with a lantern in his hand. The two seamen took their places on the top-gallant forecastle, where they could see the entire deck, and any boat or vessel that approached the ship.

Clyde did not regard the situation as very hopeful. The night was chilly, and he did not feel at all inclined to swim ashore, which he had intended to do, as a last resort. The boats were all hoisted up at the davits, as if to provide for just such cases as his own. He listened with interest to the conversation of the watch above him; but he could not identify their voices, and was unable to determine whether it was safe for him to address them. In fact he was unable to determine upon anything, and bell after bell struck without finding him any better prepared to make a move. At four bells, or two o'clock in the morning, the watch was relieved again, and Clyde remained in the same unsettled state of mind. But when the two seamen went below to call the relief, he changed his position, crawling into the waist, where he disposed himself under the lee of the rail. Over his head was the fourth cutter, one of the smallest of the boats.

Clyde could see the dark form of the officer walking to and fro on the quarter-deck, and his presence was not favorable to any movement. He found the cleats where the falls of the boat were made fast, and he was considering the practicability of casting them off, letting the cutter drop into the water, and then sliding down on a rope. The officer of the anchor watch seemed to be the only obstacle in his way. He began to experiment with the falls. Casting off one of them, he carefully let the rope slip over the cleat till he had lowered the bow of the cutter about two feet. He repeated the operation upon the stern fall. He let off the rope so gradually that the noise did not attract the attention of any of the watch.

Five bells struck, and the officer descended to the steerage. While he was absent, Clyde dropped each end of the boat about four feet more, and then coiled himself away until the officer had returned to his station. But it was nearly daylight, and he was compelled to hurry on with his work. Little by little he let out the falls, till the fourth cutter floated in the water. When the officer went below, at six bells, he climbed upon the rail, and slid down on the bow fall into the boat. Casting off the falls, he pushed the cutter astern of the ship, and for the first time began to feel as though he were free. He was afraid to use an oar, lest the noise should attract the attention of the watch on deck. He felt that he had managed his escape with exceeding cleverness, and was unwilling to risk anything now in the moment of success. The wind carried the boat clear of the ship, and he lay down in the stern sheets, so that if the officer on the quarter-deck discovered the cutter, he might suppose no one was in her.

He had occupied this position but a moment before he heard a rushing noise near him, and, raising his head, discovered a small schooner, under full sail, headed directly upon him. He had hardly time to stand up before the bow of the vessel was within his reach.

"Hallo!" shouted he, in terror, for the thought of being carried under the keel of the schooner was appalling.

But the cutter was crowded aside by the vessel, and Clyde sprang upon her deck, while his boat went astern of her.

Too late, the schooner luffed up, and Clyde seated himself on the rail to catch his breath. Two men came to him, and spoke in Norwegian.

"I speak English," replied Clyde.

"You are English?" said the captain.

"Yes; I don't speak anything else."

"I speak English," replied the skipper, as he went back to the helm, and Clyde followed him.

"Where are you bound?" asked the runaway.

"To Stockholm."

"You are Danish, I suppose."

"No, Norwegian."

"All the same."

"What shall I do with you?"

"I will go to Stockholm with you, and pay my passage, if you like," added Clyde, who wished to get as far as possible from the ship.

"You shall, if you like; or you shall work, if you please. I lose a young sailor, and I want another, to work in his place."

"No; I will go as a passenger, or not at all," replied Clyde, very decidedly.

"What you do in a boat so late in the night?" asked the skipper.

"I was going on shore to find a steamer for Stockholm. I will pay you twenty species for my passage," added the runaway.

"You are very kind to pay so much. You shall have my berth; but it will be long time to Stockholm in my vessel."

"No matter; I am satisfied."

"I shall pick up the boat you lose?"

"No; never mind the boat," answered Clyde, impatiently, as he glanced at the ship.

The captain questioned him about the boat more particularly; but the fugitive gave such answers as he pleased. Though the skipper was very rough and savage to the two men who formed his crew, he treated his passenger at first with much consideration. The little cabin of the schooner was a nasty hole, and if Clyde had not been very sleepy, he could hardly have closed his eyes there; but before the vessel was out of sight of Copenhagen, his slumber was deep and heavy.

The shout of the fugitive when he was in danger of being run down had been heard by the officer on the quarter-deck of the Young America. He saw the collision, and discovered the cutter when it went astern of the vessel; but he did not suspect that it belonged to the ship. The schooner filled away on her course again, after she had luffed up, and the boat was adrift. He deemed it his duty to secure it before it was stove by some early steamer from Malmoe, or elsewhere, and calling the two seamen, he directed them to lower the fourth cutter. But the fourth cutter was already lowered, and the officer began to think that the boat adrift was the missing one. The third cutter, therefore, was used, and when the two seamen had pulled off in her, the officer went below and called Peaks.

The boatswain took his lantern, and went to the brig, as soon as he was told that the fourth cutter was adrift. The bird had flown. The door was secure, and all the slats were apparently in their place; but the appearance of a small quantity of saw-dust indicated where the breach had been made. A little pressure forced in the sawn slat, and Peaks understood why the prisoner had only desired to be left alone.

"Were you all asleep on deck?" asked Peaks of the officer.

"No, sir; I have not been asleep on duty," replied Beckwith, the officer.

"Didn't you see him lower the boat?"

"Of course I did not."

"I don't see how it was done, then," added Peaks. "But where is the prisoner?"

"I don't know. I suppose he went on board that small schooner that run down the cutter."

"Where is she?"

Beckwith pointed to a sail headed to the south-east, which was just visible in the faint light of the early morning.

"He is out of our reach for the present," said Peaks, in utter disgust, as he descended the steps to the main cabin.

Mr. Lowington was informed of the escape of Clyde, but no steamer could be obtained at that early hour to chase the schooner, and the matter was permitted to rest as it was. When all hands turned out in the morning, a strict investigation was made; but no one who had served on the anchor watch was able to give any information. No one had seen the boat lowered, and no one had heard the saw. Peaks went on shore, and ascertained that the Norwegian schooner Rensdyr had sailed at an early hour. She had cleared for Stockholm, and was doubtless on her way there. The principal was so much interested in the fate of Clyde, or rather in his reformation, that he determined to follow up the fugitive. The English steamer Newsky, from London to Stockholm, was then in port, and when she sailed that day, Peaks was sent in her to intercept the runaway on his arrival at Stockholm.

After breakfast, Mr. Andersen came on board, inspected the ship, and witnessed some of the evolutions in seamanship, which included the manning of the yards in honor of his visit. At the invitation of Paul Kendall he went on board of the Grace, and took a sail up the Sound, dining on board, and returning in the afternoon. The students again went on shore, and visited the Rosenberg Palace, an irregular structure of red brick, with a high peaked roof and four towers. Connected with it is an extensive and beautiful garden, adorned with statues. The palace was built for Christian IV., in 1604, but is no longer a royal residence, being filled with various national collections of arms, medals, and antiquities, including many historical mementos of kings and other great men of Denmark. Among them are the saddle, bridle, and caparisons, the sword and pistols, presented by King Christian IV. to his eldest son at his marriage. They are adorned with diamonds, pearls, and gold, and cost a million francs in Paris.

In the afternoon the students marched to the Palace of Frederiksberg, whose park is a favorite resort of the people of the city. The building contains nothing worth seeing; indeed, portions of it have been rented for the use of private families; but the garden is beautifully laid out with kiosks, bridges over the winding canal, on which float a great number of white swans, with little islands, studded with groves and pleasant grassy slopes. The palace stands on the only eminence near Copenhagen. On pleasant days, especially on Sundays, this park is filled with family picnics, little parties bringing their own lunch, and spending the day in these delightful groves.

During the remainder of the day the students wandered over the city, each seeking what pleased him most. When they went on board the vessels, they were entirely satisfied with what they had seen of Copenhagen, and were ready to visit some other city. Very early the next morning, Mr. Blaine, with all but three of the absentees, came on board. The head steward told his story, and Scott and Laybold told their story; the former, as usual, being the spokesman. The wag told the whole truth, exactly as it was; that they were ashamed to come on board while so tipsy, and had missed the train at the junction.

"Have you drank any finkel since?" asked the principal.

"No, sir; not a drop. One glass was enough for me," replied Scott.

"And you, Laybold?"

"No, sir."

"You may both return to your duty," added the principal.

Both were astonished at being let off so easily; but Mr. Lowington was satisfied that they spoke the truth, and had not intended to run away. The others were also ordered to attend to their duty, but with the intimation that their conduct would be investigated at the return of Sanford and Stockwell, who, with Ole, had left the party at Katherineholm.

The signal for sailing was flying on board of the Young America, and at seven o'clock the squadron was under way, continuing the voyage "up the Baltic." No notice seemed to be taken of the absence of Sanford and Stockwell, but everybody believed that the principal knew what he was about. The wind was tolerably fresh from the west-south-west, and the squadron made rapid progress through the water, logging ten knots all day. The students watched with interest the villages on the coast of Denmark, with their sharp, red roofs, and the swarms of fishing-boats moored in front of them. The shores of Sweden were in sight all the time, and at three o'clock in the afternoon land was also seen on the starboard bow. But the masters, who were constantly watching the chart, were not at all astonished, though the seamen were.

"What land is that, Scott?" asked Laybold.

"That? Why, don't you know?"

"I'm sure I don't. I know Germany is over there somewhere, but I didn't expect to run into it so near Sweden."

"That's Gabogginholm."

"Is it in Germany?"

"No; it's an island, at least a hundred and fifty miles from Germany. The Baltic is rather a big thing out here."

"How do you remember those long names, Scott?"

"What long names?"

"Such as the name of that island. I couldn't recollect such a word ten minutes."

"Nor I either. I know them by instinct."

"What did you say the name of the island is?"

"Gastringumboggin."

"That isn't what you said before."

"I've forgotten what I did say it was. You musn't ask me twice about a name, for I say I can't remember," laughed Scott.

"You are selling me."

"Of course I am; and you go off cheaper than any fellow I ever saw before. I haven't the least idea what the land is, except that it must be an island not less than a hundred and fifty miles from Prussia."

"That's Bornholm," said Walker, a seamen, who had heard the name from the officers. "It's an island twenty-six miles long and fifteen wide, belongs to Denmark, and has thirty-two thousand inhabitants, and a lot of round churches on it. That's what the fellows on the quarter-deck say."

"Precisely so," replied Scott. "You have learned your lesson well. What is the principal town on that island?"

"I don't know," answered Walker.

"Stubbenboggin," said Scott.

"Who told you so?"

"My grandmother," laughed the wag, as he turned on his heel, and walked away.

Towards night the wind subsided, and the squadron was almost becalmed; but a light breeze sprang up after dark, and in the morning the ship was off the southern point of Oland, an island ninety miles long by ten wide, and well covered with forests. On the narrow strait which separates it from the main land is Calmar, a town of historic interest, in Sweden. At noon the southern point of Gottland was seen, and Scott insisted upon calling it "Gabungenboggin," though the real name was soon circulated. It is eighty miles long by thirty-three wide, and contains fifty-four thousand inhabitants. Wisby is the only town. The island is noted for its beautiful climate, which makes it a pleasant resort for summer tourists.

At sunrise on the following morning, the ship leading the squadron was approaching the islands which cover the entrance to the harbor of Stockholm. Pilots were taken by the several vessels, and the fleet entered the archipelago, through which it was to sail for thirty miles. At first the openings were very wide, and not much of the shore could be seen; but soon the distances grew less, and the shores were studded with villages and fine residences. The little steamers—some of them not so large as the ship's first cutter—began to appear; and at eight o'clock the Young America let go her anchor between Staden and Skeppsholm, off the quay near the palace, which was crowded with steamers.

"Here we are, Laybold," said Scott, when the sails had been furled, and every rope coiled away in its place.

"That's so. What's that big building on the shore?"

"That's the Slottenboggin," laughed Scott.

"No, you don't! You can't sell me again with your boggins."

"I'll bet half a pint of salt water it is the king's palace."

"Very likely it is; and here is a fine building on the other side."

"That must be the Wobbleboggin."

"No, it isn't."

"Perhaps it isn't; but twig these little steamers," added Scott, pointing to one of the snorting miniature boats that plied across the arm of the sea opposite the quay. "The pilot and engineer, and a boy to take the fares, seem to be the officers, crew, and all hands."

"And in some of them all hands are boys."

The boats seemed to contain nothing but the engine and boiler, which were in a compact mass, without covering. All around them were seats. Forward of the engine was a little steering-wheel, hardly more than a foot in diameter, at which the pilot—often a boy—was seated.

"I want a complete view of the city," said Captain Lincoln, at this moment coming into the waist with the surgeon and Norwood. "I think I can get it from the main cross-trees."

"I am too stiff to go aloft," replied Dr. Winstock; "but I commend your plan."

"I'm with you," added Norwood, as he followed the captain up the main rigging.

From this lofty position on the cross-trees the two officers obtained a good idea of the situation of the city. The three islands which form the central portion of the city lay in the strait leading to the Maeler Lake. The north and south suburbs were on each side of it. Skeppsholm, Castellholm, and the Djurgărden—Deer Garden—were other islands, lying nearer the Baltic. The finest portion of the city seemed to be the northern suburbs. While they were studying the panorama of the place, all hands were called to lecture, and they hastened to their places in the steerage. Professor Mapps was at his post, with the map on the foremast.

"Sweden is called Sverige by the natives; La Suede by the French; Schweden by the Germans; La Svezia by the Italians; and Suecia by the Spaniards. It contains one hundred and sixty-eight thousand square miles—a territory equal in extent to the six New England States, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Delaware united. Its population is a little over four millions—about the same as that of the State of New York. It is nearly a thousand miles long from north to south, with an average breadth of two hundred miles. By far the greater portion of it is very sparsely settled, for it extends from fifty-five degrees of north latitude up to the arctic regions. It contains no important rivers, though its large lakes and arms of the sea are valuable as avenues of navigation. Over eighty lakes are mentioned."

The instructer described the Wenern and Wettern Lakes, and the Goeta Canal, which passes through them.

"Sweden is an agricultural country, and its principal manufactures are lumber and iron. It has six hundred and thirty-eight miles of railway, and the steamers which you see at the quay, mostly of iron, and built in Sweden, ply to all parts of the country.

"The average of the temperature in Stockholm is forty-two degrees, or twenty-five degrees for winter, and sixty-two degrees for summer. From what you have already seen of Sweden, I think you will consider it very like New England. The interior has about the same physical features, and you will see there similar houses, barns, and fences.

"The government is a limited monarchy, based on the constitution of 1809, and since amended. The king must be a Lutheran. He has an absolute veto on the acts of the legislature. The Diet, or Parliament, consists of two houses, the upper of which is composed of one hundred and twenty-seven members, or one for every thirty thousand inhabitants. The lower house consists of one hundred and eighty-eight members, fifty-five of whom are elected by the towns, and the rest by the rural districts, at the rate of one for every forty thousand people. Property qualifications are required for either house, and all members must be Protestants. They are paid a salary of three hundred and thirty-five dollars of our money, and their travelling expenses, for the session of four months.

"I have incidentally spoken of the history of Sweden in connection with that of Norway and Denmark. The kingdom was founded by Odin, and for a long period the history of the country is a record of the wars with Norway and Denmark, and it was finally conquered by Margaret, and by the Union of Calmar the three kingdoms were consolidated in 1397. It became a Christian nation early in the eleventh century. Sweden was doubtless the first anti-slavery power; for, during the reign of Birger II., about 1300, a law against the sale of slaves was enacted, with the declaration that it was 'in the highest degree criminal for Christians to sell men whom Christ had redeemed by his blood.'

"In 1520 Gustavus Ericsson excited a rebellion against Christian II., of Denmark, who had murdered his father and many other Swedes. This revolution was successful three years later, and its leader made king, under the title of Gustaf I., often called Gustavus Vasa, or Wasa. He was succeeded by his son, and the throne continued in his family; but the next notable sovereign was Gustaf II., or Gustavus Adolphus. His grandfather, Gustavus Vasa, had established the Protestant religion in Sweden; but his nephew, Sigismond, who had been elected king of Poland, and had become a Catholic, succeeded to the throne. Endeavoring to change the established religion, he was deposed, and the succession changed. This caused a war between Sweden, and Russia, and Poland. Gustavus was only eighteen when he came to the throne, with this war bequeathed to him. He was full of energy, and defeated his enemies on all sides. Austria was the leader of the Catholic party in Europe, which was striving to restore the papal supremacy. Gustavus Adolphus held a similar relation to the Protestant party. He was engaged in the Thirty Years' War, and won many decisive victories. He captured Munich, and overran Bavaria, but was finally killed in the battle of Luetzen, in 1632. By his prowess and skill he raised Sweden to the rank of one of the first kingdoms of Europe.

"He was succeeded by his daughter, Christina, then only six years old. She reigned but seven years after she became of age, abdicating in favor of her cousin Charles X. She died in Rome, after a dissolute and shameful life, and was interred in St. Peter's Church. Charles was at war with the Danes during his brief reign, and achieved the daring military feat of crossing the Great and Little Belts on the ice, which enabled him to dictate his own terms of peace with the Danes. The Swedes consider him one of their greatest kings. His son, Charles XI., followed him, and ruled for thirty-seven years. After a brief period of peace, another war with Denmark ensued, which resulted to the ultimate advantage of Sweden. This king contrived to obtain from the Diet the gift of absolute power, which, in the hands of his son and successor, Charles XII., nearly ruined the nation. Russia, Poland, and Denmark combined to rob him of a considerable portion of his kingdom, and Charles XII., at the age of sixteen, displayed an energy and a skill far beyond his years. He conquered a peace with Denmark first, and then turned his attention to the rest of his enemies, whom he overwhelmed and subdued. With nine thousand men he defeated a Russian army of forty thousand, under Peter the Great, at Narva. He vanquished the armies of Poland and Saxony, and attempted the conquest of Russia, but was utterly defeated in the battle of Pultowa, and escaped into Turkish territory, where he remained for five years. Here he brought about a war between Turkey and Russia, and the army of the former shut up that of Peter the Great in the Crimea. The lady who was afterwards Catharine I. bribed the grand vizier with all her jewels to allow the Russians to escape, and this event utterly ruined the hopes of the monarch of Sweden. Finally the Turks drove him from their country, and, after various vicissitudes, he arrived in his own, and was killed, in 1718, at Frederikhald, in Norway. While he was away, his enemies had been appropriating his territory, and Sweden was reduced to a second-class power.

"The Diet elected Ulrica Eleonora, sister of Charles, queen, who resigned in favor of her husband, Fredrik I. Another war with Russia followed, and Sweden lost more of her territory. Adolf Fredrik succeeded to the throne in 1751, who was elected by the Diet. Still another war with Russia was carried on during his reign. His son, Gustaf III., with the aid of his soldiers, increased the powers of the crown; but he was assassinated at a ball, in 1792, and his son, Gustaf Adolf IV., came to the throne. His policy involved the nation in a war with the allies, and he lost Finland and Pomerania. He was so unpopular that he was compelled to abdicate, and his uncle, Charles XIII., was raised to the throne in 1809. He had no children, and the Prince of Holstein-Augustenburg was elected as his successor; but he was assassinated, and one of Napoleon's generals, Bernadotte, was chosen crown prince, and in 1818 he succeeded to the throne as Charles XIV. His reign was a successful one, and his efforts to secure Norway to his adopted country made him popular even before he was king. He espoused the cause of the allies against Napoleon, and was well cared for by them when the affairs of Europe were finally settled.

"His son Oscar was his heir, and came to the throne at the death of his father in 1844. He was followed by his son, Charles XV., the present king, in 1859.

"The army organization is similar to that of Denmark, and about one hundred and fifty thousand men are available for service. The navy contains four monitors on the American plan, which were invented by John Ericsson, a Swede, two iron-clad gunboats, twenty-one steamers, and sixteen sailing vessels, besides a great number of floating batteries, and other stationary craft. Although only about six thousand sailors are actually in the navy, nearly thirty thousand can be had in case of war."

The professor finished his lecture, and the students hastened on deck, to see more of the sights which surrounded them.



CHAPTER XIX.

THE CRUISE IN THE LITTLE STEAMER.

"What's the use, Stockwell?" said Sanford, as the absentees seated themselves on the train for Malmoe, under the charge of the head steward. "Blaine got his despatch from the principal last night, but he didn't say a word to us till this morning. He's playing a sharp game."

"That's so," replied Stockwell. "He don't mean to trust us out of sight again."

"Don't say a word to any fellow," whispered the coxswain. "You and I will fight it out on our own hook."

"I understand. It is plain enough that Blaine regards us as runaways, and I suppose the principal will do the same."

"Very likely; and when we get to Russia, all we shall have to do will be to count our fingers in the steerage, while the rest of the fellows are seeing the Russians," continued Sanford, who now appeared to regard "the independent excursion without running away" as a failure. "We shall not even see anything more of Stockholm. I don't like the idea."

"Well, what are you going to do about it?" asked Stockwell.

"At the first chance we will leave this train, and make our way back to Stockholm," whispered Sanford. "There is a steamer to St. Petersburg twice a week, and we have money enough to carry us through."

"Right; I am with you."

"We will take Ole, if you like, to do the talking for us."

"I don't object."

The train stopped at Katherineholm about half past nine. The boys had taken nothing but the Swedish early breakfast of coffee and a biscuit, and the head steward allowed them to have a more substantial meal, each paying for himself. They entered the restaurant, where, on a large table in the centre of the room, were great dishes of broiled salmon and veal cutlets, with high piles of plates near them. Each passenger helped himself at these dishes, and then seated himself at one of the little tables. When he had finished his salmon, he helped himself to veal cutlets; beer and coffee were served by the waiters. Sanford and Stockwell hurried through the meal, and went to the counter where the woman received payment. She asked them some question and they were obliged to call Ole, to know what she said. She asked if they had had beer or coffee, which was extra, the meal being one and a half rix dalers. She gave them a tin check; for at this place they seemed to be sharper than the Swedes usually are, and the check was to enable them to get out of the restaurant. A man at the door received it, and no one was allowed to pass without it; and thus none could leave without paying for the meal.

"Finished your breakfast, Ole?" said Sanford, carelessly.

"Yes; and that salmon was very good."

"First rate. Come with us, Ole," added the coxswain, as he led the way out of the restaurant.

The trio entered the station, and as no one followed them, they left by the front door. Dodging behind the buildings, they soon cleared the station. Taking the public road, they walked for half an hour at a rapid pace, and then halted to consider the situation. The train had gone, for they had heard its departure; but whether Mr. Blaine had gone or not was an open question.

"What next?" said Sanford, as he seated himself at the side of the road.

"Take the train back to Stockholm," replied Stockwell.

"Perhaps Blaine did not go on, after he missed us."

"Of course he did. But whether he did or not, the train has gone, and he cannot take us to Copenhagen. If we find him at the station, why, we took a little walk, and lost the train, you know."

"That's played out," replied Sanford. "We have missed the train too many times, already. What time does the next one return to Stockholm?"

"I don't know. Let's go back to the station."

This course was adopted, and on their arrival they learned that they could return to Stockholm at half past two in the afternoon. The man in charge said that the gentleman with the young men had been looking for them. Sanford replied, through Ole, that they had lost the train, but would return to Stockholm, and start again the next morning. After dining in the restaurant, the runaways—as they certainly were now, if not before—departed, and arrived at their destination in about three hours. They immediately went to the office on the quay, and learned that a steamer would leave for St. Petersburg at two o'clock on Friday morning.

"Can we engage places now?" asked Sanford,—for the clerk in charge spoke English.

"Certainly."

"We will take three places in one room," added the coxswain.

"Have you passports?" asked the clerk.

"No, sir."

"We cannot sell you tickets then."

"Not without passports?" exclaimed Sanford, appalled at this new difficulty.

"No; and passports must be vise by the Russian consul before we can issue a ticket."

"We are down then," added the coxswain. "My passport is on board of the ship."

"So is mine," added Stockwell.

"And I never had any," said Ole.

The party left the steamer's office, and were unable to devise any means of overcoming the obstacle. They went to the Hotel Rydberg again, and consulted the porter, who had been very kind to them before. This functionary is entirely different in European hotels from those of the same name in the United States. He stands at the entrance, usually dressed in uniform, to answer all inquiries of guests, and to do all that is required of the clerks in American hotels. He assured the anxious inquirers that, even if they got into Russia, their passports would be immediately demanded, and that no one could remain in any city there over night without one. The American minister in Stockholm would give them the required documents.

"But Ole, here, is a Norwegian," suggested Sanford.

"No matter. Have him put into your passport as your courier or servant."

"All right; we will see him to-morrow," replied the coxswain; and the problem seemed to be solved.

The next day they went to the American legation, but the minister had gone to Upsala for a week, and the secretary declined to issue the passports, because the boys could not prove that they were citizens of the United States. Vexed and discouraged, they wandered about the city till Friday noon, when an English steamer came into port. They stood on the quay, watching the movements of the passengers as they landed. They had almost concluded to take a steamer to Stettin, Luebeck, or some other port in Germany; but Russia was a strange land, and they were not willing to abandon the idea of seeing its sights.

"I wonder whether this steamer goes any farther," said Stockwell.

"I don't know," added Sanford.

"Perhaps she goes to St. Petersburg. It may be her officers are not so particular about the confounded passports."

"But you can't stay in Russia over night without one, even if you get there."

"The American minister will fit us out with them. I expect to find a letter of credit in St. Petersburg, and that will prove that I am an American."

"Let us go on board of the steamer and ascertain where she is going," continued Sanford, as he led the way across the plank, which had been extended from the deck to the stone pier.

The boys went upon the hurricane deck, where they had seen an officer who looked as though he might be the captain.

"Do you go to St. Petersburg, captain?" asked the coxswain.

"No; we return to London, touching only at Copenhagen," replied the officer.

"That's too bad!" exclaimed Stockwell.

"So it is," said a tall man, who had followed the runaways up the steps from the lower deck. "But you are not going to St. Petersburg without the rest of us—are you?"

Sanford was startled, and turning sharp around, saw Peaks, who had come out of the cabin as the boys stepped on board. He had followed them to the hurricane deck, and suspecting that something was wrong, he had waited till the coxswain's question betrayed their intention.

"No, we are not going to St. Petersburg; we are waiting for the ship," replied Sanford, recovering his self-possession in an instant.

"O, you are? All right, then. But the last I heard of you was, that you were all on your way to Copenhagen to join the ship," added the boatswain.

"So we were, Mr. Peaks; but after we had taken breakfast at a station on the railroad, we went to have a little walk, and see something of the country. We thought we had time enough, but the train—confound it!—went off without us. We were terribly provoked, but we couldn't help ourselves, you know; so we made our way back to this city."

"I think you must have been very badly provoked," said Peaks.

"O, we were,—honor bright."

"But you thought you would go over to St. Petersburg before the ship arrived?"

"Certainly not; we had no idea of going to St. Petersburg."

"And that's the reason you asked whether this steamer was going there,—because you hadn't any idea of going."

"We know very well that we can't go to St. Petersburg without our passports, which are on board of the ship," protested Sanford.

"Yes, I understand; but who is this?" asked Peaks, as he glanced at Ole.

"That's Ole Amundsen; don't you remember him?"

"I think I do. And he is on a lark with you."

"We are not on a lark. We have been trying with all our might to find the ship, for the last fortnight; and we are bound to do so, or die in the attempt," said Stockwell.

"And Ole has been with you all the time?"

"Yes, sir; we couldn't have done anything without him."

"And would have been on board the ship long ago, if you hadn't had him to speak the lingo for you."

"When we tell you our story, you will see that we have done our best to find the ship."

"I don't know that I care to hear any more of your story; it's too much story for me, and you can tell it to Mr. Lowington, who will be here by to-morrow, I think. Very likely you can take me to a good hotel."

"Yes, sir; we are staying at the Hotel Rydberg, which is the best in Stockholm."

"Heave ahead, then."

The runaways led the way.

"Do you talk the Swedish lingo, Ole?" asked the boatswain.

"Yes, sir."

"Where did you stow yourself, when we went into Christiansand?"

"In the second cutter, sir," replied the waif, laughing.

"Exactly so; you were to go with her crew when they left."

"No, sir; I didn't know a single one of them."

"What did you hide for, then?"

"Because I didn't want the pilot to see me."

"Why not?" asked the boatswain.

But this was as far as Ole would go in that direction. Neither man nor boy could extort from him the secret he so persistently retained. A short walk brought the party to the Hotel Rydberg.