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400
FREDERIKSVÆRK.
Chap. XXVI.
attendants. The worthy pastor saw no more.
Horror-struck, he allowed himself to be hurried home, more
dead than alive, to his humbled welling, where he
remained a prisoner in his chamber until released by his
female domestic. When he rose and gazed on the placid
waters of the horde, the Russian frigate was no longer
visible; she had weighed anchor before sunrise, and a
fresh breeze had borne her from the coast. Without
delay the affrighted priest posted off to Copenhagen to
relate the mysterious event to the bishop. A purse of
gold left beside the pastor’s bed—the blood still visible
on the church-floor—the extinguished lights in the
corona—all affirmed the truth of his assertion, and no
more, for the affair to this day has never been elucidated.
Queen Dagmar once possessed a castle in these parts
—Dronningholm by name—later pulled down by King
Frederic II. to help in his picnic castle of
Frederiksborg.
We had intended proceeding on to Frederikssund
by steamer; but arrived the day of its nondeparture.
Not caring to remain, though an artist might find
amusement for days in the vicinity, and could not be more
agreeably lodged and fed than in the small hotel of the
place, we ordered horses—sun high in the heavens—and,
at the imminent risk of ruining our complexions, again
started on a two hours’ drive; a breeze from the fiorde,
however, refreshed the air, and we reached
Frederikssund, a dull little town. After dinner we again started
for Udleire to visit a certain “ giant’s grave,” as they
here call it. Dolmen after dolmen we passed, some
tumbled over, others in good preservation, surrounded
by a circle of stones.
The cave of Udleire is situated a stone’s throw from
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