preserve our good
king, and then it will remain well with us! Thou, Otto, wilt fly out
into the wide world--hadst thou only first passed thy examination
for office! But when and where-ever thou mayest fly, remember on all
occasions the words of Scripture.

"We all desire to rule. Phaeton wished to drive the chariot of the
sun, but not understanding how to guide the reins, he set fire to the
countries, precipitated himself from the chariot, and broke his neck. I
have no one in the city of Copenhagen whom I can ask thee to greet for
me. All the friends of my youth are scattered to the east and to the
west. If any of them still be in the city, they will certainly have
forgotten me. But shouldst thou ever go to the Regent's Court, and smoke
with the others a pipe under the tree, think of me. I have also sat
there when I was young like thee; when the French Revolution drove also
the blood quicker through my veins, and thoughts of freedom caused me to
carry my head more high. The dear old tree! [Author's Note: At the end
of the last century it was felled, and two younger ones, which are now
in full growth, planted in its stead.] Yes, but one does not perceive in
it, as in me, how many years have passed since then!"

He pressed a kiss on Otto's forehead, gave him his blessing, and they
parted.

Otto was in a melancholy mood; he felt that he had certainly seen the
old man for the last time. When he arrived at home he found Rosalie busy
hacking. The following morning, by earliest dawn, they were to travel
toward Lemvig. Otto had not been there within these two last years. In
old times the journey thither had always been to him a festival, now it
was almost indifferent to him.

He entered his little chamber; for the last time in his life he should
now sleep there. From the next morning commenced, so it seemed to him, a
new chapter in his life. Byron's "Farewell" sounded in his ears like an
old melody:--

"Fare thee well, and if forever,
Still for ever fare thee well."

At break of day the carriage rolled away with him and old Rosalie. Both
were silent; the carriage moved slowly along the deep ruts. Otto looked
back once more. A lark rose, singing above him.

"It will be a beautiful day!" said the coachman; his words and the song
of the lark Rosalie regarded as a good omen for Otto's whole journey.

CHAPTER XIX

"Geske.--Have you put syrup in the coffee?
Henrich.--Yes, I have.
Geske.