the disappointed Swede, as he stood bolt upright, a
pencil in one hand, and a large drawing-book in the other.

Like a wild horse, startled, would fly over the plains of Pampas, and
hurl with sounding hooves the turf behind him, our little bark darted
through the water, and, envious of her freedom, crushed and tossed each
resisting wave into foam, and a thousand bubbles. As we hauled closer to
the wind, and hugged the tongue of land which forms the most easterly
point of the citadel of Fredrikshavn, we discerned, leaning against the
flag-staff, poor old C----. He held a handkerchief in his hand, but
waved it not; yet it would be raised slowly to his face, and fall
heavily to his side again; and, after we had proceeded two miles out to
sea, with the aid of a telescope, we could still trace his form resting
in the same place and position, and his eyes still turned towards us.

When we drew further from the shore, the wind increased, and the
gaff-topsail was unbent, and a reef taken in the mainsail. We were soon
a second time anchored off Elsineur; and, as the sun declined from the
meridian, the wind almost lulled to a calm. We went ashore; and
although, on our arrival at the pier-head, the sentinels and police did
not speak to us, or demand our passports, they walked round and viewed
us, as a man would observe the points of a horse before he purchased it.

Elsineur appeared to me a more bustling town than Copenhagen itself; and
I suppose that arises from the number of sailors connected with the
vessels in the roadstead, who are to be met in the narrow lanes and
alleys of the town; and here all the pilots in Denmark mostly wait for
ships bound up the Baltic.

Over the door of every third house, generally swings a sign-board,
villainously painted, and exhibiting, in emblematical form to the
stranger's eye, the proprietor's name, and the nature of the goods
which may be bought of him. The streets are very long and confined; and
herds of fishwomen, dogs, and children, get in your way and under your
feet. Elsineur is the Wapping of Denmark, or comparable to the worst
parts of Portsmouth.

We walked through the town to the Castle of Cronenborg. After wandering
over drawbridges, through archways, and dark tunnels, we found ourselves
in the middle of a courtyard, surrounded on all sides by the solitary
walls of the seemingly deserted castle. We rang a bell several times,
and could just hear its noisy clatter, stealing throug