The room in which I found myself was literally crammed with men of all denominations and all ages, and each having a cigar in his mouth in full play. Some, in this dense hot region, were reading books full of deep thought, (for I looked over their shoulders); some meditating over a game of chess, more chattering vehemently and loudly, and many playing at billiards. Mr. C——, R——, and P—— had seated themselves in the vicinity of a billiard-table, and, when I partially recovered my senses, I followed their example. The table was about half the size of the billiard-tables in England, and the pockets were twice as large. The four balls, with which they played, were not much bigger than those generally used at bagatelle. The queus were uncovered at the top with leather; and the player had the satisfaction of hearing the sharp twang of his bare-headed queu as each time it struck the little ivory ball. No chalk was in the room. The Danes possess no word in their language expressive of that convenient mineral. In Denmark, credit is never given. You must pay, or go to prison. Thank God, I am an Englishman.
We remained an hour in this café; and after tasting, each of us, a glass of maraschino, which Mr. C—— would insist on paying for, we left the oven. We did not, I promise you, go into another during the week we remained at Copenhagen; and I would urge those "troubled and disquieted spirits," who desire health and good lungs to pursue their wanderings on meadow or mountain, strenuously to avoid these gasometers and receptacles of tobacco smoke.
As it was now nearly twelve o'clock, we took leave of Mr. C——, and walked towards the harbour, when, on our arrival at the Custom House, we found the gates, through which we had passed when landing, closed, and thus cutting off all communication between the yacht and ourselves. What was to be done? The Heaven, decked out in its deep blue mantle, shone brightly over our heads; and the poppy-dew of Sleep, descending on the Soul of Copenhagen, had lulled all into the profoundest silence. Lying calmly at anchor on the smooth water which reflected a thousand stars, our floating home, not a mile off, could be seen. The tramp of a sentinel struck on the ear.
"Hi! ho!" exclaimed P——, distinguishing the soldier's accoutrements. The Dane approached the iron gate, and, leering through the bars, seemed to doubt our gentility. We could not speak Danish; he did not speak English; and what was to be done with a common soldier at dead of night? P—— went near to the gate.
"Hi! ho!" a second time he exclaimed, as the soldier commenced walking the other way; "We English gentlemen want to get board jhat;" persevered P——, endeavouring, by the adoption of a broken accent, to convey his meaning.
The Dane shook his head.
"We are done," said P—— calmly, "I wish we could get him to call the officer on guard;" and, turning to the gaping sentinel again, "Officer," he continued, "appelez officer," speaking half French, half English.
The man ducked his shakko, and departed. Almost immediately the officer of the guard came out, wrapped in the huge folds of a military cloak, and, gazing at us through the bars, uttered a sentence in Danish. Making no reply to him, he then said, saluting us with much politeness,
"Que voulez vous, Messieurs?"
"Nous sommes des Messieurs Anglais qui désirent passer d'ici jusqu'à notre jhat," replied P——.