236 LE TTERS FR OM HIGH LA TITUDES. [XII. 



fort under the circumstances. There was nothing for it but 

 the courage of despair ; so, casting reflection to the winds, 

 and my arm round her waist, I suddenly whisked her off her 

 legs, and dashed madly down the room, " a deux temp*." 

 At the first perception that something unusual was going on, 

 she gave such an eldritch scream, that the whole society 

 suddenly came to a standstill. I thought it best to assume 

 an aspect of innocent composure and conscious rectitude 

 which had its effect, for though the lady began with a cer- 

 tain degree of hysterical animation to describe her wrongs 

 she finished with a hearty laugh, in which the compan; 

 cordially joined, and I delicately chimed in. For the rer 

 of the dance she seemed to resign herself to her fate, and 

 floated through space, under my guidance, with all the 

 abandon of Francesca di Rimini, in SchefTer's famous picture. 



The Crown Prince is a tall, fine-looking person ; he was 

 very gracious, and asked many questions about my voyage. 



At night there was a general illumination, to which the 

 " Foam" contributed some blue lights. 



We got under way early this morning, and without a 

 pilot — as we had entered — made our way out to sea again. 

 I left Throndhjem with regret, not for its own sake, for in 

 spite of balls and illuminations I should think the pleasures 

 of a stay there would not be deliriously exciting ; but this 

 whole district is so intimately associated in my mind with all 

 the brilliant episodes of ancient Norwegian History, that I 

 feel as if I were taking leave of all those noble Haralds, and 

 Olafs, and Hacons, among whom I have been living in such 

 pleasant intimacy for some time past. 



While we are dropping down the coast, I may as well 

 employ the time in giving you a rapid sketch of the com- 

 mencement of this fine Norse people, though the story 

 " remonte jusqu 'd la unit des temps]' and has something of 

 the vague magnificence of your own M'Donnell genealogy, 

 ending a long list of great potentates, with " somebody, 

 who was the son of somebody else, who was the son of 

 Scotha, who was the daughter of Pharaoh ! " 



