All this, however, though very well in its way, did not relieve me from my embarrassing predicament. Something must be done, and that very speedily. I was rapidly wilting under the chilling influence of the water. Ten minutes more would render me a fit subject for a coroner’s inquest. I saw but one alternative: to work my course a few hundred yards up the shore, and then creep out the best way I could, and run for my life till I found some friendly nook among the rocks in which I could conceal myself till these fair Finns took a notion to depart.
Acting upon this idea, I ducked down as low as possible, and crept over the jagged and slippery rocks, in mortal dread all the time that some receding wave would leave me a dripping spectacle for these fair damsels to laugh at; till, bruised and scarified beyond farther endurance, I worked my way to a landing-place, where I paused in a recumbent position—that is to say, on all-fours—to take an observation. They must have perceived something ludicrous in my attitude. A wild scream of laughter saluted my ears. I could stand no more. What little warmth was left in my blood forced itself into my head and face as I sprang to my feet. With a groan of shame and mortification, I took to my heels; and never before, so help me Jupiter! did I run so fast in my life. Scream after scream of laughter followed me! It is impossible for me to conjecture how I looked, but I felt dreadfully destitute of sail as I scudded over the rough pathway that wound around the shore. Blushing, panting, and utterly overwhelmed with conflicting emotions of modesty and despair, I darted behind the friendly shelter of a rock, and inwardly resolved that if ever I went bathing in Finland again, I would at least perform my ablutions in a more appropriate costume than Nature had bestowed upon me.
The next question was, how long were these people going to enjoy themselves at my expense? Was I to be blockaded from my clothes all the rest of the afternoon? I could not, upon any principle of international law, undertake to break the blockade on the ground that it was not effectual, and yet it was pretty hard to do without my cotton. What I had suffered from the cold while in the water was nothing to what I now began to experience from the unobstructed rays of the sun. My skin was rapidly assuming every variety of color supposed to exist in the rainbow, and a painful consciousness possessed me that in half an hour more I would be blistered from head to foot. There was no shade on my side of the rock, and nothing any where in sight that could afford the least protection. Racked with renewed anguish, I peeped out to see if there was any earthly prospect reaching my clothes. Horror upon horror! what were they doing now? Did my eyes deceive me? As sure as fate, they were all quietly undressing themselves! Hats, scarves, parasols and dresses were scattered all around them; there they sat, on the moss-covered rocks, their alabaster necks and limbs glistening in the sun, looking for all the world like a bevy of mermaids, laughing and chattering in the highest glee, perfectly indifferent to my presence! I saw no more. A dizziness came over me. Consternation seized my inmost soul. Drawing back behind the rock. I held my face close up to it and shut both my eyes. Don’t talk to me about courage! Every man is a coward by nature. Of what avail was it that I had killed whales and chased grizzly bears? Here I was now, hiding my face, shutting my eyes, trembling in the hot sun like a man with an ague, both knees knocking together, and my heart ready to pop out of my mouth from abject fear! Strange—wasn’t it?—especially after having made the grand tour of Europe, in many parts of which live men and women are ranked with statuary. What harm is there, after all, in discarding those artificial trappings which disfigure the human form divine? Many a man who looks like an Apollo Belvidere in his natural condition, becomes a very commonplace fellow the moment he steps into his conventional disguise. He is no longer heroic; he may be a very vulgar-looking mortal, not at all calculated to produce classical impressions on any body. His form divine has fallen into the hands of a tailor, who may be neither an artist or a poet. And since we can admire an Apollo Belvidere, why not a Venus de Medici, or, still more, the living, breathing impersonation of beauty buffeting the waves with
“Shapely limb and lubricated joint.”
But, hang it all! though not an ill-shaped man, I don’t flatter myself there was any thing in my personal appearance, as I crouched behind the rock, shutting both eyes as hard as I could, to remind the most enthusiastic artist of the Apollo Belvidere! Nay, the gifted Hawthorne himself could scarcely have made a Marble Faun out of so unpromising a subject. And as for the fair bathers, who by this time were plunging about in the water like naiads, it would of course be impossible for me to say how far they were improved by lack of costume, since I looked in another direction, and kept my eyes faithfully closed from the very beginning. The question now occurred to me, Would I not be justified by the law of nations in breaking the blockade? It was now or never. If they once commenced dressing, farewell to hope! Well, I did it. Heaven only knows how I got through the terrible ordeal. I only remember that desperation gave strength and speed to my limbs, and I ran with incredible velocity. A moment of terrible confusion ensued as I grasped at my scattered habiliments. There came a scream of laughter from the wicked naiads who were sporting in the waves. I fled over the hills—my bundle in my arms—and never once stopped till I reached a small valley about half a mile distant. Breathless, mortified, and bewildered at the oddity of the adventure. I hurriedly dressed, and walked back to town. Arrived at my hotel, I called for a bottle of schnapps, retired to my room, locked the door, and fervently ejaculated, “‘All’s well that ends well!’ Here’s to the ladies of Helsingfors! But if ever you catch me in such a scrape again, my name’s not Browne!”
CHAPTER XXIII.
ABO—FINLAND.
I was strongly inclined to spend several weeks in Helsingfors. The bathing is delightful, and the manners and customs of the people are primitive and interesting. My adventure on the sea-shore, as I soon discovered, was nothing uncommon. I mentioned the matter to my landlady—a Finnish woman of very sociable manners, who spoke a little English. I asked her if it was customary for the ladies to dispense with bathing-dresses. She said they generally wore something when they bathed in public, but beyond the limits of the regular bath-houses, at the end of the Botanical Gardens, they seldom troubled themselves about matters of that kind; in fact, they preferred going in without any obstruction, because “they could swim so much better.”
Having procured my passport at the Bureau of the Police, I took passage in a Swedish steamer bound for Abo and Stockholm. Next morning by daylight the steamer arrived from St. Petersburg. I went on board, and in a few hours more the fortifications of Sweaborg were dim in the distance.