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408
SKIBBY.
Chap. XXVII.
once we missed our way—the postboy was new to the
road, and signposts exist not in Zealand—and came
down to a place termed Deepmill, a site to have sent a
landscape-painter wild; and then, leaving blue horde,
green forest, birds, meadows, and villages, we tumbled
into the old high road, dusty and tiresome, and in
an hour arrived at Holbæk. Not far from Holbæk is
situated the hill on which dwells the swan who sits
brooding over three golden eggs, each egg the value of
a king’s ransom (en Konge Zøsen). This swan may
be ofttimes seen in the neighbourhood; but no one dare
pursue it, for once, when a man spied it, he followed
early and late, and at last fired a shot at it near the hill;
but he missed the bird, and when he returned he found
his house burnt to the ground in ashes. A dinner, and
horses on to Faareveile. But where did we intend
sleeping ? inquired the host. At Faareveile kro.
Impossible ! too small, no accommodation. We would,
then, try the kro of Svinninge and go on to
Adelers-borg next morning. Determined to have our own way,
we at last arranged to travel all night, and keep on our
carriage to take us to Kallundborg the following day.
The kro of Svinninge looked highly promising with its
neatly-kept garden when we stopped to bait. We then
left the high road, and before long the imposing chateau
of Adelersborg appeared in sight, well placed among
the surrounding woods. We are now in a private
demesne, pass through lodges; numberless cows graze on
very coarse grass, but the cream is rich, the butter
excellent: what more can you desire ? As we approach
the borders of the fiorde—calm and tranquil are its
waters—on a little promontory jutting out into the sea
stands ’a whitewashed gabled church and its spire of
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