unknown.  But another consideration was our budget; the whole result of my desperate efforts amounted to not quite one hundred ducats, which were to cover not only the journey to Paris, but our expenses there until I should have earned something.  Therefore, after a few days’ rest in the inn at Arnau, we drove to the little seaport town of Pillau, again accompanied by Moller, in one of the ordinary local conveyances, which was not much better than a wagon.  In order to avoid Konigsberg, we passed through the smaller villages and over bad roads.  Even this short distance was not to be covered without accident.  The clumsy conveyance upset in a farmyard, and Minna was so severely indisposed by the accident, owing to an internal shock, that I had to drag her—­ with the greatest difficulty, as she was quite helpless—­to a peasant’s house.  The people were surly and dirty, and the night we spent there was a painful one for the poor sufferer.  A delay of several days occurred before the departure of the Pillau vessel, but this was welcome as a respite to allow of Minna’s recovery.  Finally, as the captain was to take us without a passport, our going on board was accompanied by exceptional difficulties.  We had to contrive to slip past the harbour watch to our vessel in a small boat before daybreak.  Once on board, we still had the troublesome task of hauling Robber up the steep side of the vessel without attracting attention, and after that to conceal ourselves at once below deck, in order to escape the notice of officials visiting the ship before its departure.  The anchor was weighed, and at last, as the land faded gradually out of sight, we thought we could breathe freely and feel at ease.

We were on board a merchant vessel of the smallest type.  She was called the Thetis; a bust of the nymph was erected in the bows, and she carried a crew of seven men, including the captain.  With good weather, such as was to be expected in summer, the journey to London was estimated to take eight days.  However, before we had left the Baltic, we were delayed by a prolonged calm.  I made use of the time to improve my knowledge of French by the study of a novel, La Derniere Aldini, by George Sand.  We also derived some entertainment from associating with the crew.  There was an elderly and peculiarly taciturn sailor named Koske, whom we observed carefully because Robber, who was usually so friendly, had taken an irreconcilable dislike to him.  Oddly enough, this fact was to add in some degree to our troubles in the hour of danger.  After seven days’ sailing we were no further than Copenhagen, where, without leaving the vessel, we seized an opportunity of making our very spare diet on board more bearable by various purchases of food and drink.  In good spirits we sailed past the beautiful castle of Elsinore, the sight of which brought me into immediate touch with my youthful impressions of Hamlet.  We were sailing all unsuspecting through the Cattegat to the Skagerack,