At five in the morning I was awoke by the neighing and pawing of four horses under my
window. I dressed hastily and came down into the street. Hans was finishing our packing,
almost as it were without moving a limb; and yet he did his work cleverly. My uncle
made more noise than execution, and the guide seemed to pay very little attention to his
energetic directions.
At six o'clock our preparations were over. M. Fridrikssen shook hands with us. My uncle
thanked him heartily for his extreme kindness. I constructed a few fine Latin sentences to
express my cordial farewell. Then we bestrode our steeds and with his last adieu M.
Fridrikssen treated me to a line of Virgil eminently applicable to such uncertain
wanderers as we were likely to be:
"Et quacumque viam dedent fortuna sequamur."
"Therever fortune clears a way,
Thither our ready footsteps stray."
