"No, nor you either," I answered walking away; for I thought the man was striving to palm off a joke.
"Ay; but it's gospel your Honour," I heard the man reply; and, I believe, sailors do hand down to each other a tradition of that kind; for there is a figure of speech, and it is nothing more, with which the English men-of-war's men used to hail the lobster smacks going up the Thames.
"Smack a-hoy! hand us a few lobsters, or—you know what'll happen!"
CHAPTER XI.
RETURN TO NORWAY—SAIL UP THE GULF—APPROACH TO CHRISTIANIA—ITS APPEARANCE FROM THE WATER—ANECDOTE OF BERNADOTTE—DESCRIPTION OF THE CITY—THE FORTRESS—CHARLES THE XIITH—THE CONVICTS—STORY OF THE CAPTURED CANNON—THE HIGHWAYMAN—PROSPECT FROM THE MOUNTAINS—THE NORWEGIAN PEASANT GIRL.
Wednesday dawned cloudless; and the round, red Sun rose on our right hand, and glared through his magnifying lattice, the mist, to see us come back again to Norway.
The smooth and glassy surface of the tideless Fiord, hemmed in by lofty mountains, stands forth the grand characteristic of Norway. The weather-beaten rocks, rising abruptly from the water, have beauty and boldness on their broad, blank fronts; and how infinite is the loveliness of innumerable islands, clustered together, bearing vegetation of all hues and odours!