But, alas! Gräuben was far away; and I never hoped to see her again.

But if my uncle felt no attraction towards these romantic scenes he was very much struck with the aspect of a certain church spire situated in the island of Amager, which forms the southwest quarter of Copenhagen.

I was ordered to direct my feet that way; I embarked on a small steamer which plies on the canals, and in a few minutes she touched the quay of the dockyard.

After crossing a few narrow streets where some convicts, in trousers half yellow and half grey, were at work under the orders of the gangers, we arrived at the Vor Frelsers Kirke. There was nothing remarkable about the church; but there was a reason why its tall spire had attracted the Professor’s attention. Starting from the top of the tower, an external staircase wound around the spire, the spirals circling up into the sky.

“Let us get to the top,” said my uncle.

“I shall be dizzy,” I said.