For several years he had been hoarding up his money; he had now about thirty shillings, English, which seemed to him an inexhaustible sum. As soon as his mother heard of this fund, her heart inclined towards his wishes, and she promised to consent on condition that they should consult a wise woman, and that his going or staying should be decided by her augury. The sibyl was fetched to the house, and after she had read the cards, and studied the coffee-grounds, she pronounced these words.
“Your son will become a great man. The city of Odense will one day be illuminated in his honor.”
A prophecy like this removed all doubts.
“Go, in God’s name!” said his mother, and he lost no time in preparing for his great jourmey.
Some one had mentioned to him a certain female dancer at the Royal Theatre as a person of great influence; he obtained, therefore, from a gentleman universally esteemed in Odense, a letter of introduction to this lady; and with this, and his thirteen rix-dollars, he commenced the journey on which depended
