A Yacht Voyage to Norway, Denmark, and Sweden Part 5

"We are," P---- replied, "and should like to learn something about the art, and the places where it may be applied."

"You can't fish so far to the south as Copenhagen," said Mr. C. "There are no fish here. I suppose you know that?"

"Yes, we know that," interposed R----, "we are from Christiansand, and there we heard of fish, but caught none."

"That's very likely; the rivers are yet too cold, and will continue so for a month or more. I am an old fisherman," exclaimed Mr. C---- challengingly. "I have caught my sixty in a week;" and he slapped his thigh.

P---- rubbed his hands with satisfaction, and R---- rose from the sofa on which he was reclining, and looked at Mr. C---- with curiosity.

"Well, now," proceeded Mr. A--l--r C----, "I would suggest, that, you three gentlemen, being in search of pleasure or sport, should remain a few days where you are. After having worn out the enjoyments, and there are many, of Copenhagen, coast it up to Gottenborg, Falkenborg, and so on till you reach Christiania; and at Falkenborg, or Kongsbacka, you may get a few fish. Have you brought any tackle, or flies?"

"Lots of both," said P----, rising at the same moment, and taking from the bookcase behind him his whole fis.h.i.+ng apparatus. The fly-book was soon opened, and Mr. C---- scrutinized tackle and flies with the attention of an angler.

"This is too yellow," he said of one fly, removing it from the book, and placing it on the table for observation. "Here--here's too much red and blue," of another; "there are no flies of that colour in Sweden, or Norway; and all this green on the belly is rubbish,--no fish will take _that_. What's this? Ha! The dragon-fly,--'t won't do." After rummaging for a little while, he said, "By the Lord Harry! come out!" seizing by the wings a fourth fly about the size of a humming bird. "This'll do for the coast of Greenland where whales are caught. Shall I tell you what?"

asked Mr. C----, putting an end to his criticism, and looking round at us all. "Make your own flies. It's impossible for a fellow in the Strand to put a fly together which would suit fishermen like you. Observe the flies and insects of the country as they flutter under your nose, and imitate them the best way you can."

"That's not a bad idea," was the simultaneous answer of R---- and P----; but they liked not their London-made goods rated so lowly.

"Now," exclaimed Mr. C----, glancing steadfastly all round the cabin at each of us, "I hear this yacht belongs to an English n.o.bleman, and the name is familiar to me. Which one of you is Lord R----?"

P---- and I made no reply; and R----, quite _taken a-back_, resumed instantly, with a comic air, his declining att.i.tude sideways on the sofa, with his face turned next to the bulk-head.

"_You_ are Lord R----," continued Mr. C----, pointing to me.

"As much as you have exalted me in the grade of society, so much has it pleased Fate at last to depress me," I replied. "That is Lord R----," I continued, pointing to R----, or, at least, towards the centre seam in the back of his pilot-jacket.

"I hope your Lords.h.i.+p," said old C----, addressing R----'s back front view, "will forgive the robbery of your due; but, had I observed your face, I could not have mistaken you."

R---- rose laughing, and told him no apology was requisite.

"You are very like the pictures I have seen, when I was in England, of the Admiral." Then, after a pause, "What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

said Mr. C----. "How can I serve you? To-day is Sat.u.r.day. Nothing is going on to-night; but if, after dinner, you will allow me to wait on you, I will do my best to amuse in a stroll about the town."

"But won't you dine on board?" asked P----.

"I thank you; I have already ordered my own chop," Mr. C---- replied, "and I would in that case beg you to permit my meeting you after I have demolished it. Say half-past seven."

"As you like," said R----; "but I can give you a good bottle of claret."

"Thank you, my Lord; but not to-day." And Mr. C. commenced a retrograde motion towards the companion.

"Have you a boat?" inquired R----; "because you can have one of mine, if you like."

"If you will, I shall feel obliged," replied Mr. C----.

"Alfred!" shouted R----, at the top of his lungs.

"Yes, my Lord," echoed from the recesses of the pantry, and then the cause of the echo became visible at the door of the pantry.

"Man the gig!" said R----.

"Yes, my Lord," and Alfred again disappeared as quickly as a falling star. A few minutes more, and Mr. C---- was over the gangway, in the gig, and ash.o.r.e.

CHAPTER V.

COPENHAGEN--THE CAFE--THE DILEMMA--THE GUARD--COMPLIMENT TO ENGLAND--DESCRIPTION OF THE HARBOUR AND FORTIFICATIONS --DELINQUENT SAILORS--THE CITY ON SUNDAY--NEGRO COMMISSIONAIRE--A WALK THROUGH THE CITY--NOTICES OF THE VARIOUS PUBLIC BUILDINGS.

Punctual to our engagement, we met Mr. C----, after dinner at half-past seven. After wandering over the town for some time without any definite object, I grumbled at the system of enjoyment we had adopted. The streets not being paved so well as the worst streets in London are, the stones, projecting with sharp points three or four inches above the ground, wound and irritate the feet to a serious extent; and my ankles were almost sprained several times in consequence of the high heels I had to my boots. I recommend thick shoes without heels to the traveller in _all_ the northern capitals.

"You are always rusty, Bill," said R----. "Come on."

"Let us stop," I replied, "and determine where we are going."

We therefore stopped in a large square, at the base of an equestrian statue, the beauty or imperfection of which I could not see at the late hour; and, with Mr. C---- in the centre, consulted what could be done.

Being in ignorance of the habits of the people, and the haunts where amus.e.m.e.nts existed, we three could only look at each other and be mute.

"Come along," at last exclaimed Mr. C----, as if a great idea had dawned on his mind; "let's turn into this cafe," directing our attention to a s.p.a.cious building brilliantly illuminated.

"Port your helm, Jack," said R----, in a jesting tone of voice, and moved quickly away towards the cafe.

We entered, and to say that we saw anything at our first entrance beyond an atmosphere of tobacco smoke, so thick as to be palpable to the touch, would be out of the question. After opening and closing my eyes twice or three times, and, wiping away the tears which the pungent tobacco smoke excited, I began to take an observation.

The room in which I found myself was literally crammed with men of all denominations and all ages, and each having a cigar in his mouth in full play. Some, in this dense hot region, were reading books full of deep thought, (for I looked over their shoulders); some meditating over a game of chess, more chattering vehemently and loudly, and many playing at billiards. Mr. C----, R----, and P---- had seated themselves in the vicinity of a billiard-table, and, when I partially recovered my senses, I followed their example. The table was about half the size of the billiard-tables in England, and the pockets were twice as large. The four b.a.l.l.s, with which they played, were not much bigger than those generally used at bagatelle. The queus were uncovered at the top with leather; and the player had the satisfaction of hearing the sharp tw.a.n.g of his bare-headed queu as each time it struck the little ivory ball. No chalk was in the room. The Danes possess no word in their language expressive of that convenient mineral. In Denmark, credit is never given. You must pay, or go to prison. Thank G.o.d, I am an Englishman.

We remained an hour in this cafe; and after tasting, each of us, a gla.s.s of maraschino, which Mr. C---- would insist on paying for, we left the oven. We did not, I promise you, go into another during the week we remained at Copenhagen; and I would urge those "troubled and disquieted spirits," who desire health and good lungs to pursue their wanderings on meadow or mountain, strenuously to avoid these gasometers and receptacles of tobacco smoke.

As it was now nearly twelve o'clock, we took leave of Mr. C----, and walked towards the harbour, when, on our arrival at the Custom House, we found the gates, through which we had pa.s.sed when landing, closed, and thus cutting off all communication between the yacht and ourselves. What was to be done? The Heaven, decked out in its deep blue mantle, shone brightly over our heads; and the poppy-dew of Sleep, descending on the Soul of Copenhagen, had lulled all into the profoundest silence. Lying calmly at anchor on the smooth water which reflected a thousand stars, our floating home, not a mile off, could be seen. The tramp of a sentinel struck on the ear.

"Hi! ho!" exclaimed P----, distinguis.h.i.+ng the soldier's accoutrements.

The Dane approached the iron gate, and, leering through the bars, seemed to doubt our gentility. We could not speak Danish; he did not speak English; and what was to be done with a common soldier at dead of night?

P---- went near to the gate.

"Hi! ho!" a second time he exclaimed, as the soldier commenced walking the other way; "We English gentlemen want to get board jhat;" persevered P----, endeavouring, by the adoption of a broken accent, to convey his meaning.

The Dane shook his head.

"We are done," said P---- calmly, "I wish we could get him to call the officer on guard;" and, turning to the gaping sentinel again, "Officer,"

he continued, "appelez officer," speaking half French, half English.

The man ducked his shakko, and departed. Almost immediately the officer of the guard came out, wrapped in the huge folds of a military cloak, and, gazing at us through the bars, uttered a sentence in Danish. Making no reply to him, he then said, saluting us with much politeness,

"Que voulez vous, Messieurs?"

"Nous sommes des Messieurs Anglais qui desirent pa.s.ser d'ici jusqu'a notre jhat," replied P----.