man of the
locality, who, when the church was built, cut off the monk's head. The
figure of a monk's head is on a stone in the wall by the altar.

"The church a little to the south of the lighthouse is called Hoierup,
and was built in fulfilment of the vow of a seaman when in danger. As
the cliff crumbles away, the church is said to go a cock's footstep
back on the mainland every Christmas night."

"What is the meaning of 'rup' as a termination to so many Danish
places?" asked Hardy.

"It is your English 'thorp,' or Swedish 'torp,' or German 'dorf,' a
village," replied the Pastor. "Vandstrup, for instance, is 'the
village by the water,' as the Danish word for water is Vand. It is, as
you know, close to the river."

The pilot had predicted that the wind would lessen at four o'clock in
the afternoon, and the yacht got under weigh, and, carrying plenty of
sail and full steam, made a rapid passage across Kioge Bay, so
disturbing sometimes to the breakfast of the Kiobenhavner, who trusts
himself to a pleasure excursion on its waters.

Off Dragor, the jack was again hoisted for the Copenhagen pilot, and
the Rosendal steam yacht was at anchor off the Custom House at
Copenhagen, before a late dinner, that evening.

"We must fill up with coal and water, mother, and it had better be
done here," said Hardy; "it would give us time for an excursion to
Roeskilde to see the Domkirke, or elsewhere."

"No, John," said Mrs. Hardy. "I want to purchase many articles that
you will want at Rosendal after you are married, that you would never
think of; and I must leave something for the Pastor to tell me next
summer."

"But what shall I do with Pastor Lindal tomorrow?" asked John Hardy.

"He will like to be left to himself, to go where he wishes," replied
his mother; and she was right. As the yacht left Copenhagen a day or
so after, Mrs. Hardy refused to visit the beautiful vicinity of
Copenhagen. "No, John; and no, Herr Pastor," she said. "I must keep
something to see for other years, and something to look forward to and
wish to see. I even decline to hear the story of the soldier who shot
from Kronborg Castle a cow with a cannon in Sweden, and that although
he did not hurt the milkmaid. The Herr Pastor must keep something to
tell me another season."

"But, mother, we can anchor at Elsinore, and you could see Kronborg
Castle," urged her son.

"So I will another year, John," she replied. "Get your mud-hook up, as
you call it, a