"Help Bros., the sons of old Help?"
"Yes."
"Why, I know them, too; at least, the younger brother, Help, Junior,
they call him, though he is not far from my own age, and one of my
particular friends. He has often dined with me in Christiania. Ah,
well, my children, I can soon learn through him all that can be
ascertained about the 'Viking.' I'll write him this very day, and if
need be I'll go and see him."
"How kind you are, Mister Sylvius!" cried Hulda and Joel in the same
breath.
"No thanks, if you please; I won't allow them. Did I ever thank you
for what you did for me up there? And now I find an opportunity to do
you a good turn, and here you are all in a flutter."
"But you were just talking of returning to Christiania," remarked
Joel.
"Well, I shall go to Bergen instead, if I find it necessary to go to
Bergen."
"But you were about to leave us, Mister Sylvius," said Hulda.
"Well, I have changed my mind, that is all. I am master of my own
actions, I suppose; and I sha'n't go until I see you safely out
of this trouble, that is, unless you are disposed to turn me
out-of-doors--"
"What can you be thinking of, Mister Sylvius?"
"I have decided to remain in Dal until Ole's return. I want to make
the acquaintance of my little Hulda's betrothed. He must be a brave,
honest fellow, of Joel's stamp, I am inclined to think."
"Yes, exactly like him," replied Hulda.
"I was sure of it!" exclaimed the professor, whose cheerfulness had
returned, at least apparently.
"Ole is Ole, Mister Sylvius," said Joel, "and that is equivalent to
saying that he is the best-hearted fellow in the world."
"I believe you, my dear Joel, and what you say only makes me the more
anxious to see him. I sha'n't have to wait long. Something tells me
that the 'Viking' will soon come safely into port."
"God grant it!"
"And why should He not hear your prayer? Yes, I shall certainly attend
Hulda's wedding, as you have been kind enough to invite me to it. The
Storthing will have to do without me a few weeks longer, that is all.
It would have been obliged to grant me a much longer leave of absence
if you had let me fall into the Rjukanfos as I deserved."
"How kind it is in you to say this, Mister Sylvius, and how happy you
make us!"
"Not as happy as I could wish, my friends, as I owe my life to you,
and I don't know--"
"Oh! please, please say no more about that trifle."
"Yes, I shall. Come now, who drew me out of the frightful jaws of the
Maristien? Who risked their own lives to save me? Who brought me to
the inn at Dal, and cared for me, and nursed me without any assistance
from the Faculty? Oh! I am as stubborn as an old cart-horse, I assure
you, and I have made up my mind to attend the marriage of Hulda to Ole
Kamp, and attend it I shall!"
Hopefulness is contagious, and how could any one resist such
confidence as Sylvius Hogg displayed? A faint smile crept over poor
Hulda's face. She longed to believe him; she only asked to hope.
"But we must recollect that the days are passing very rapidly,"
continued Sylvius Hogg, "and that it is high time we began our
preparations for the wedding."
"They are already begun, Mister Sylvius," replied Hulda. "In fact,
they were begun more than three weeks ago."
"So much the better; but in that case, we must take good care not to
allow anything to interrupt them."
"Interrupt them!" repeated Joel. "Why, everything is in readiness."
"What, the wedding-dress, the bodice with its silver clasps, the belt
and its pendants?"
"Even the pendants."
"And the radiant crown that will make you look like a saint, my little
Hulda?"
"Yes"
"And the invitations are written?"
"All written," replied Joel, "even the one to which we attach most
importance, yours."
"And the bride-maid has been chosen from among the sweetest maidens of
the Telemark?"
"And the fairest, Mister Sylvius," added Joel, "for it is Mademoiselle
Siegfrid of Bamble."
"From the tone in which he uttered those words, and the way in which
he blushed as he uttered them, I judge that Mademoiselle Siegfrid
Helmboe is destined to become Madame Joel Hansen of Dal," said the
professor, laughing.
"Yes, Mr. Sylvius," replied Hulda.
"Good! so there is a fair prospect of yet another wedding," exclaimed
Sylvius Hogg. "And as I feel sure that I shall be honored with an
invitation, I can do no less than accept it here and now. It certainly
looks as if I should be obliged to resign my seat in the Storthing,
for I really don't see how I am to find time to attend its sessions.
But never mind, I will be your best man, Joel, after first serving in
that capacity at your sister's wedding. You certainly are making me do
just what you like, or rather what I like. Kiss me, little Hulda! Give
me your hand, my boy, and now let me write to my friend Help, Junior,
of Bergen."
The brother and sister left the apartment of which the professor had
threatened to take permanent possession, and returned to their daily
tasks with rather more hopeful hearts.
Sylvius Hogg was left alone.
"Poor child! poor child!" he murmured. "Yes, I have made her forget
her sorrow for a few moments. But the delay has been a long one; and
the sea is very rough at this season of the year. What if the 'Viking'
has indeed gone down, and Ole should never return!"
A moment afterward the professor was busily engaged in writing to his
Bergen friend. He asked for the fullest possible particulars in regard
to everything connected with the "Viking" and her cruise, and inquired
if some event, unforeseen or otherwise, had made it necessary to send
the vessel to a different port from that for which it was originally
destined. He also expressed a strong desire to hear as soon as
possible how the shipping merchants and sailors of Bergen explained
the delay. In short, he begged his friend Help to give him all
possible information in regard to the matter by return mail.
This urgent letter also explained Sylvius Hogg's interest in the mate
of the "Viking," the invaluable service rendered him by the young
man's betrothed, and the pleasure it would afford him to be able to
give some encouragement to Dame Hansen's children.
As soon as this letter was finished Joel took it to Moel so it would
go on the following day. It would reach Bergen on the eleventh, so a
reply to it ought to be received on the evening of the twelfth or the
morning of the thirteenth at the very latest.
Nearly three days of dreary waiting! How interminable they seemed!
Still, by dint of reassuring words and encouraging arguments, the
professor contrived to alleviate the painful suspense. Now he knew
Hulda's secret, was there not a topic of conversation ever ready? And
what a consolation it was to Joel and his sister to be able to talk of
the absent one!
"I am one of the family now," Sylvius Hogg repeated again and again.
"Yes, I am like an uncle that has just arrived from America or some
foreign land."
And as he was one of the family, they must have no more secrets from
him.
Of course he had not failed to notice the children's constrained
manner toward their mother, and he felt satisfied that the reserve the
parent displayed had its origin in something besides the uneasiness
she felt on Ole Kamp's account. He thought he might venture to
question Joel; but the latter was unable to give any satisfactory
reply. The professor than ventured to sound Dame Hansen on the
subject, but she was so uncommunicative that he was obliged to abandon
all hope of obtaining any knowledge of her secret until some future
day.
As Sylvius Hogg had predicted, the letter from Help, Junior, reached
Dal on the morning of the thirteenth. Joel started out before daylight
to meet the postman, and it was he who brought the letter into the
large hall where the professor was sitting with Dame Hansen and her
daughter.
There was a moment's silence. Hulda, who was as pale as death, was
unable to utter a word so violent was the throbbing of her heart, but
she seized the hand of her brother, who was equally agitated, and held
it tightly.
Sylvius Hogg opened the letter and read it aloud.
To his great regret the missive contained only some very
vague information; and the professor was unable to conceal his
disappointment from the young people who listened to the letter with
tears in their eyes.
The "Viking" had left Saint-Pierre-Miquelon on the date mentioned in
Ole Kamp's last letter. This fact had been established by the reports
received from other vessels which had reached Bergen since the
"Viking's" departure from Newfoundland. These vessels had seen nothing
of the missing ship on their homeward voyage, but they had encountered
very bad weather in the neighborhood of Iceland. Still they had
managed to weather the gales; so it was possible that the "Viking" had
been equally fortunate, and had merely been delayed somewhere, or had
put into some port for repairs. The "Viking" was a stanch craft, very
substantially built, and commanded by Captain Frikel, of Hammersfest,
a thoroughly competent officer. Still, this delay was alarming, and if
it continued much longer there would be good reason to fear that the
"Viking" had gone down with all on board.
The writer regretted that he had no better news to give the young
Hansens, and spoke of Ole Kamp in the most complimentary terms.
He concluded his letter by assuring the professor of his sincere
friendship, and that of his family, and by promising to send him
without delay any intelligence that might be received at any Norwegian
port, in relation to the "Viking."
Poor Hulda sunk half fainting into a chair while Sylvius Hogg was
reading this letter, and she was sobbing violently when he concluded
its perusal.
Joel, with his arms folded tightly upon his breast, listened in
silence, without daring to glance at his sister.
Dame Hansen, as soon as the reading was concluded, went up to her
room. She seemed to have been expecting the blow.
The professor beckoned Hulda and her brother to his side. He wanted to
talk with them calmly and sensibly on the subject, and he expressed a
confidence that was singular, to say the least, after Help, Junior's
letter. They had no reason to despair. Were there not countless
examples of protracted delays while navigating the seas that lie
between Norway and Newfoundland? Yes, unquestionably. And was not the
"Viking" a strong craft, well officered, and manned by an excellent
crew, and consequently in a much better condition than many of the
vessels that had come safely into port? Most assuredly.
"So let us continue to hope," he added, "and wait. If the 'Viking'
had been wrecked between Iceland and Newfoundland the numerous vessels
that follow the same route to reach Europe would certainly have seen
some trace of the disaster. But no, not a single floating plank
or spar did they meet on the whole of this route, which is so much
frequented at the conclusion of the fishing season. Still, we must
take measures to secure information of a more positive nature. If we
receive no further news of the 'Viking' during the coming week, nor
any letter from Ole, I shall return to Christiania and ask the Naval
Department to make careful inquiries, and I feel sure that the result
will prove eminently satisfactory to all concerned."
In spite of the hopeful manner assumed by the professor, Joel and
Hulda both felt that he did not speak as confidently as he had spoken
before the receipt of the letter from Bergen--a letter whose contents
gave them little if any grounds for hope. In fact, Sylvius Hogg no
longer dared to venture any allusion to the approaching marriage of
Hulda and Ole Kamp, though he said to himself again and again:
"No, no, it is impossible! Ole Kamp never cross the threshold of Dame
Hansen's house again? Ole not marry Hulda? Nothing will ever make me
believe such a misfortune possible."
He was perfectly sincere in this conviction. It was due to the energy
of his character, to a spirit of hopefulness that nothing could crush.
But how could he hope to convince others, especially those whom the
fate of the "Viking" affected so directly?
A few days were allowed to elapse. Sylvius Hogg, who was now entirely
well, took a long walk every day, and persuaded Hulda and her brother
to accompany him. One day all three of them went up the valley of
Vesfjorddal half-way to the falls of the Rjukan. The next day they
went to Moel and Lake Tinn. Once they were even absent twenty-four
hours. This time they prolonged their excursion to Bamble, where the
professor made the acquaintance of Farmer Helmboe and his daughter
Siegfrid. What a cordial welcome the latter gave to her friend Hulda,
and what words of tenderness she found to console her!
Here, too, Sylvius Hogg did all in his power to encourage these worthy
people. He had written to the Navy Department, and the government was
investigating the matter. Ole would certainly return at no distant
day. He might drop in upon them, indeed, at any moment. No; the
wedding would not have to be postponed more than six weeks! The good
man seemed so thoroughly convinced of all this, that his auditors were
influenced rather by his firm conviction than by his arguments.
This visit to the Helmboe family did the young Hansens good, and they
returned home much calmer than they went away.
At last the fifteenth of June came. The "Viking" was now exactly one
month overdue; and as the distance from Newfoundland to the coast of
Norway is comparatively short, this delay was beyond all reason, even
for a sailing-vessel.
Hulda seemed to have abandoned all hope; and her brother could not
find a single word to say by way of encouragement. In the presence
of these poor, unhappy creatures, the professor realized the utter
futility of any well-meant attempt at consolation. Hulda and Joel
crossed the threshold only to stand and gaze in the direction of Moel,
or to walk up the road leading to Rjukanfos. Ole Kamp would probably
come by the way of Bergen, but he might come by way of Christiania
if the destination of the "Viking" had been changed. The sound of an
approaching kariol, a hasty cry, the form of a man suddenly rounding
a curve in the road made their hearts beat wildly; but all for naught.
The good people of Dal were also eagerly watching. Not unfrequently
they went half-way to meet the postman. Everybody was deeply
interested, for the Hansen family was exceedingly popular in the
neighborhood; and poor Ole was almost a child of the Telemark. But no
letter came from Bergen or Christiania giving news of the absent one.
Nothing new occurred on the sixteenth. Sylvius Hogg could scarcely
restrain his restlessness. He began to understand that he must proceed
to act in person, so he announced to his friends that if no news was
received on the following day he should go to Christiania and satisfy
himself that nothing had been left undone. Of course, it was hard
for him to leave Hulda and Joel, but there was no help for it; and he
would return as soon as his task was accomplished.
On the seventeenth a greater part of the most wretched day they had
ever spent together passed without bringing any new developments. It
had rained incessantly since early morning; the wind was blowing a
gale, and the rain dashed fiercely against the window on the side of
the house nearest the Maan.
Seven o'clock came. They had just finished dinner, which had been
eaten in profound silence, as if in a house of mourning. Even Sylvius
Hogg had been unable to keep up the conversation. What could he say
that he had not already said a hundred times before?
"I shall start for Christiania to-morrow morning," he remarked at
last. "Joel, I wish you would procure a kariol and drive me to Moel."
"Very well, Mr. Sylvius. But wouldn't you like me to accompany you
further?"
The professor shook his head, with a meaning glance at Hulda, for he
did not want to see her separated from her brother.
Just then a sound, which was as yet scarcely audible, was heard on the
road in the direction of Moel. They all listened breathlessly. Soon
all doubts vanished. It was the sound of an approaching kariol coming
swiftly toward Dal. Was the occupant some traveler who intended to
spend the night at the inn? This was scarcely probable, as tourists
rarely arrived at so late an hour.
Hulda sprung up trembling in every limb. Joel went to the door, opened
it and looked out.
The noise grew louder It was certain the clatter of horse's hoofs
blended with, the roll of kariol wheels; but the storm without was so
violent that Joel was obliged to close the door.
Sylvius Hogg tramped up and down the room in a perfect fever of
impatience. Joel and his sister held each other tightly by the hand.
The kariol could not be more than twenty yards from the house now.
Would it pause or go by?
The hearts of all three throbbed to suffocation.
The kariol stopped. They heard a voice calling; but it was not the
voice of Ole Kamp!
Almost immediately some one rapped at the door.
Joel opened it.
A man stood upon the threshold.
"Is Mr. Sylvius Hogg here?" he asked.
"I am he," replied the professor. "Who are you, my friend?"
"A messenger sent to you by the Secretary of the Navy at Christiania."
"Have you a letter for me?"
"Yes, sir; here it is."
And the messenger handed him a large envelope sealed with the
Government seal.
Hulda's limbs tottered under her, and her brother sprung forward and
placed her in a chair. Neither of them dared to ask Sylvius Hogg to
open the letter.
At last he broke the seal and read the following:
"MR. PROFESSOR,--In reply to your last letter, I inclose a paper
picked up at sea on the 3d instant by a Danish vessel. Unfortunately
this discovery dispels any lingering doubt as to the fate of the
'Viking'--"
Sylvius Hogg, without taking time to read the rest of the letter, drew
the paper from the envelope. He looked at it; he turned it over.
It was a lottery ticket bearing the number 9672.
On the other side of the ticket were the following lines:
"May 3d.
"DEAREST HULDA,--The 'Viking' is going down. I have only this ticket
left of all I hoped to bring back to you. I intrust it to God's hands,
hoping that it may reach you safely; and as I shall not be there, I
beseech you to be present at the drawing. Accept the ticket with
my last thought of you. Hulda, do not forget me in your prayers.
Farewell, my beloved, farewell!
"OLE KAMP."
CHAPTER XII.
So this was the young man's secret! This was the source from which he
expected to derive a fortune for his promised bride--a lottery ticket,
purchased before his departure. And as the "Viking" was going down,
he inclosed the ticket in a bottle and threw it into the sea with the
last farewell for Hulda.
This time Sylvius Hogg was completely disconcerted. He looked at the
letter, then at the ticket. He was speechless with dismay. Besides,
what could he say? How could any one doubt that the "Viking" had gone
down with all on board?
While Sylvius Hogg was reading the letter Hulda had nerved herself to
listen, but after the concluding words had been read, she fell back
unconscious in Joel's arms, and it became necessary to carry her to
her own little chamber, where her mother administered restoratives.
After she recovered consciousness she asked to be left alone for
awhile, and she was now kneeling by her bedside, praying for Ole
Kamp's soul.
Dame Hansen returned to the hall. At first she started toward the
professor, as if with the intention of speaking to him, then suddenly
turning toward the staircase, she disappeared.
Joel, on returning from his sister's room, had hastily left the house.
He experienced a feeling of suffocation in the dwelling over which
such a dense cloud of misfortune seemed to be hanging. He longed for
the outer air, the fierce blast of the tempest, and spent a part of
the night in wandering aimlessly up and down the banks of the Maan.
Sylvius Hogg was therefore left alone. Stunned by the stroke at first,
he soon recovered his wonted energy. After tramping up and down the
hall two or three times, he paused and listened, in the hope that he
might hear a summons from the young girl, but disappointed in this,
he finally seated himself at the table, and abandoned himself to his
thoughts.
"Can it be possible that Hulda is never to see her betrothed
again?" he said to himself. "No; such a misfortune is inconceivable.
Everything that is within me revolts at the thought! Even admitting
that the 'Viking' has gone to the bottom of the ocean, what conclusive
proof have we of Ole's death? I can not believe it. In all cases of
shipwreck time alone can determine whether or not any one has survived
the catastrophe. Yes; I still have my doubts, and I shall continue
to have them, even if Hulda and Joel refuse to share them. If the
'Viking' really foundered, how does it happen that no floating
fragments of the wreck have been seen at sea--at least nothing except
the bottle in which poor Ole placed his last message, and with it all
he had left in the world."
Sylvius Hogg had the ticket still in his hand, and again he looked
at it, and turned it over and held it up between him and the waning
light--this scrap of paper upon which poor Ole had based his hopes of
fortune.
But the professor, wishing to examine it still more carefully, rose,
listened again to satisfy himself that the poor girl upstairs was not
calling her mother or brother, and then entered his room.
The ticket proved to be a ticket in the Christiania Schools Lottery--a
very popular lottery in Norway at that time. The capital prize was one
hundred thousand marks; the total value of the other prizes, ninety
thousand marks, and the number of tickets issued, one million, all of
which had been sold.
Ole Kamp's ticket bore the number 9672; but whether this number proved
lucky or unlucky, whether the young sailor had any secret reason for
his confidence in it or not, he would not be present at the drawing,
which was to take place on the fifteenth of July, that is to say, in
twenty-eight days; but it was his last request that Hulda should take
his place on that occasion.
By the light of his candle, Sylvius Hogg carefully reread the
lines written upon the back of the ticket, as if with the hope of
discovering some hidden meaning.
The lines had been written with ink, and it was evident that Ole's
hand had not trembled while tracing them. This showed that the mate
of the 'Viking' retained all his presence of mind at the time of
the shipwreck, and that he was consequently in a condition to take
advantage of any means of escape that might offer, such as a floating
spar or plank, in case the raging waters had not swallowed up
everything when the vessel foundered.
Very often writings of this kind that are recovered from the sea state
the locality in which the catastrophe occurred; but in this neither
the latitude nor longitude were mentioned; nor was there anything
to indicate the nearest land. Hence one must conclude that no one on
board knew where the "Viking" was at the time of the disaster. Driven
on, doubtless, by a tempest of resistless power, the vessel must have
been carried far out of her course, and the clouded sky making a
solar observation impossible, there had been no way of determining the
ship's whereabouts for several days; so it was more than probable that
no one would ever know whether it was near the shores of North America
or of Iceland that the gallant crew had sunk to rise no more.
This was a circumstance calculated to destroy all hope, even in the
bosoms of the most sanguine.
With some clew, no matter how vague, a search for the missing vessel
would have been possible. A ship or steamer could be dispatched to the
scene of the catastrophe and perhaps find some trace of it. Besides,
was it not quite possible that one or more survivors had succeeded in
reaching some point on the shores of the Arctic continent, and that
they were still there, homeless, and destitute, and hopelessly exiled
from their native land?
Such was the theory that gradually assumed shape in Sylvius Hogg's
mind--a theory that it would scarcely do to advance to Joel and Hulda,
so painful would the disappointment prove if it should be without
foundation.
"And though the writing gives no clew to the scene of the
catastrophe," he said to himself, "we at least know where the bottle
was picked up. This letter does not state, but they must know at the
Naval Department; and is it not an indication that might be used
to advantage? By studying the direction of the currents and of
the prevailing winds at the time of the shipwreck might it not be
possible? I am certainly going to write again. Search must be made, no
matter how small the chances of success. No; I will never desert poor
Hulda! And until I have positive proofs of it I will never credit the
death of her betrothed."
Sylvius Hogg reasoned thus; but at the same time he resolved to say
nothing about the measures he intended to adopt, or the search he
intended to urge on with all his influence. Hulda and her brother must
know nothing about his writing to Christiania; moreover, he resolved
to postpone indefinitely the departure which had been announced for
the next day, or rather he would leave in a few days, but only for a
trip to Bergen. There, he could learn from the Messrs. Help all the
particulars concerning the "Viking," ask the opinion of the most
experienced mariners, and decide upon the way in which search could
best be made.
In the meantime, from information furnished by the Navy Department,
the press of Christiania, then that of Norway, Sweden, and finally
all Europe, gradually got hold of this story of a lottery ticket
transformed into an important legal document. There was something very
touching about this gift from a shipwrecked mariner to his betrothed.
The oldest of the Norwegian journals, the "Morgen-Blad," was the
first to relate the story of the "Viking" and Ole Kamp; and of the
thirty-seven other papers published in that country at the time,
not one failed to allude to it in touching terms. The illustrated
"Nyhedsblad" published an ideal picture of the shipwreck. There
was the sinking "Viking," with tattered sails and hull partially
destroyed, about to disappear beneath the waves. Ole stood in the bow
throwing the bottle containing his last message into the sea, at the
same time commending his soul to God. In a luminous cloud in the dim
distance a wave deposited the bottle at the feet of his betrothed. The
whole picture was upon an enlarged representation of a lottery ticket
bearing the number 9672 in bold relief. An unpretending conception,
unquestionably, but one that could hardly fail to be regarded as a
masterpiece in the land which still clings to legends of the Undines
and Valkyries. Then the story was republished and commented upon in
France and England, and even in the United States. The story of Hulda
and Ole became familiar to every one through the medium of pencil and
pen. This young Norwegian girl, without knowing it, held a prominent
place in the sympathy and esteem of the public. The poor child little
suspected the interest she had aroused, however; besides, nothing
could have diverted her mind from the loss that engrossed her every
thought.
This being the case, no one will be surprised at the effect produced
upon both continents--an effect easily explained when we remember how
prone we all are to superstition. A lottery ticket so providentially
rescued from the waves could hardly fail to be the winning ticket. Was
it not miraculously designated as the winner of the capital prize? Was
it not worth a fortune--the fortune upon which Ole Kamp had counted?
Consequently it is not surprising that overtures for the purchase of
this ticket came from all parts of the country. At first, the prices
offered were small, but they increased from day to day; and it was
evident that they would continue to increase in proportion as the day
of the drawing approached.
These offers came not only from different parts of Scandinavia, which
is a firm believer in the active intervention of supernatural powers
in all mundane matters--but also from foreign lands, and even from
France.
Even the phlegmatic English grew excited over the matter, and
subsequently the Americans, who are not prone to spend their money so
unpractically. A host of letters came to Dal, and the newspapers
did not fail to make mention of the large sums offered to the
Hansen family. A sort of minor stock exchange seemed to have been
established, in which values were constantly changing, but always for
the better.
Several hundred marks were, in fact, offered for this ticket, which
had only one chance in a million of winning the capital prize. This
was absurd, unquestionably, but superstitious people do not stop to
reason; and as their imaginations became more and more excited, they
were likely to bid much higher.
This proved to be the case. One week after the event the papers
announced that the amounts offered for the ticket exceeded one
thousand, fifteen hundred and even two thousand marks. A resident of
Manchester, England, had even offered one hundred pounds sterling, or
two thousand five hundred marks; while an American, and a Bostonian
at that, announced his willingness to give one thousand dollars for
ticket No. 9672 of the Christiania Schools Lottery.
It is needless to say that Hulda troubled herself very little about
the matter that was exciting the public to such an extent. She would
not even read the letters that were addressed to her on the subject;
but the professor insisted that she must not be left in ignorance of
these offers, as Ole Kamp had bequeathed his right and title in this
ticket to her.
Hulda refused all these offers. This ticket was the last letter of her
betrothed.
No one need suppose that this refusal was due to an expectation that
the ticket would win one of the prizes in the lottery. No. She saw
in it only the last farewell of her shipwrecked lover--a memento she
wished to reverently preserve. She cared nothing for a fortune that
Ole could not share with her. What could be more touching than this
worship of a souvenir?
On apprising her of these different offers, however, neither Sylvius
Hogg nor Joel made any attempt to influence Hulda. She was to be
guided entirely by her own wishes in the matter. They knew now what
her wishes were.
Joel, moreover, approved his sister's decision unreservedly. Ole
Kamp's ticket must not be sold to any person at any price.
Sylvius Hogg went even further. He not only approved Hulda's decision,
but he congratulated her upon it. Think of seeing this ticket sold
and resold, passing from hand to hand, transformed, as it were, into
a piece of merchandise, until the time appointed for the drawing
arrived, when it would very probably become a worthless scrap of
paper?
And Sylvius Hogg went even further. Was it, perhaps, because he was
slightly superstitious? No. Still, if Ole Kamp had been there, the
professor would probably have said to him:
"Keep your ticket, my boy, keep it! First, your ticket, and then you,
yourself, were saved from the wreck. You had better wait and see what
will come of it. One never knows; no, one never knows!"
And when Sylvius Hogg, professor of law, and; a member of the
Storthing, felt in this way, one can hardly wonder at the infatuation
of the public, nor that No. 9672 could be sold at an enormous premium.
So in Dame Hansen's household there was no one who protested against
the young girl's decision--at least no one except the mother.
She was often heard to censure it, especially in Hulda's absence, a
fact that caused poor Joel not a little mortification and chagrin, for
he was very much afraid that she would not always confine herself to
covert censure, and that she would urge Hulda to accept one of the
offers she had received.
"Five thousand marks for the ticket!" she repeated again and again.
"They offer five thousand marks for it!"
It was evident that Dame Hansen saw nothing either pathetic or
commendable in her daughter's refusal. She was thinking only of this
large sum of five thousand marks. A single word from Hulda would bring
it into the family. She had no faith either in the extraordinary
value of the ticket, Norwegian though she was; and to sacrifice fire
thousand marks for a millionth chance of winning one hundred thousand
was an idea too absurd to be entertained far a moment by her cool and
practical mind.
All superstition aside, it is undeniable that the sacrifice of a
certainty, under such conditions, was not an act of worldly wisdom;
but as we said before, the ticket was not a lottery ticket in Hulda's
eyes; it was Ole's last farewell, and it would have broken her heart
to part with it.
Nevertheless, Dame Hansen certainly disapproved her daughter's
resolve. It was evident, too, that her dissatisfaction was constantly
increasing, and it seemed more than likely that at no very distant day
she would endeavor to make Hulda change her decision. Indeed, she had
already intimated as much to Joel, who had promptly taken his sister's
part.
Sylvius Hogg was, of course, kept informed of what was going on. Such
an attempt on the mother's part would only be another trial added to
those Hulda was already obliged to endure, and he was anxious to avert
it if possible. Joel mentioned the subject to him sometimes.
"Isn't my sister right in refusing?" he asked. "And am I not justified
in upholding her in her refusal?"
"Unquestionably," replied Sylvius Hogg. "And yet, from a mathematical
point of view, your mother is a million times right. But the science
of mathematics does not govern everything in this world. Calculation
has nothing to do with the promptings of the heart."
During the next two weeks they were obliged to watch Hulda very
closely, for the state of her health was such as to excite serious
anxiety. Fortunately loving care and attention were not wanting. At
Sylvius Hogg's request, the celebrated Dr. Bock, a personal friend,
came to Dal to see the young invalid. He could only prescribe rest,
and quiet of soul, if that were possible; but the only sure means of
curing her was Ole's return, and this means God only could provide.
Still, Sylvius Hogg was untiring in his efforts to console the young
girl. His words were ever words of hope, and strange as it may appear,
Sylvius Hogg did not despair.
Thirteen days had now elapsed since the arrival of the ticket
forwarded by the Navy Department. It was now the thirteenth of June.
A fortnight more, and the drawing of the lottery would take place with
great pomp in the main hall of the University of Christiania.
On the morning of the thirtieth day of June Sylvius Hogg received
another letter from the Navy Department. This letter advised him to
confer with the maritime authorities of Bergen, and authorized him to
immediately organize an expedition to search for the missing "Viking."
The professor did not want Joel or Hulda to know what he intended to
do, so he merely told them that he must leave them for a few days to
attend to some business matters.
"Pray do not desert us, Mister Sylvius," said the poor girl.
"Desert you--you, whom I regard as my own children!" replied Sylvius
Hogg.
Joel offered to accompany him, but not wishing him to know that he was
going to Bergen, the professor would only allow him to go as far as
Moel. Besides, it would not do for Hulda to be left alone with her
mother. After being confined to her bed several days, she was now
beginning to sit up a little, though she was still very weak and not
able to leave her room.
At eleven o'clock the kariol was at the door of the inn, and after
bidding Hulda good-bye, the professor took his seat in the vehicle
beside Joel. In another minute they had both disappeared behind a
large clump of birches at the turn in the road.
That same evening Joel returned to Dal.
END OF FIRST HALF.
CHAPTER XIII.
Meanwhile, Sylvius Hogg was hastening toward Bergen. His tenacious
nature and energetic character, though daunted for a moment, were now
reasserting themselves. He refused to credit Ole's death, nor would
he admit that Hulda was doomed never to see her lover again. No, until
the fact was established beyond a doubt, he was determined to regard
the report as false.
But had he any information which would serve as a basis for the task
he was about to undertake in Bergen? Yes, though we must admit that
the clew was of a very vague nature.
He knew merely the date on which the bottle had been cast into the sea
by Ole Kamp, and the date and locality in which it had been recovered
from the waves. He had learned those facts through the letter just
received from the Naval Department, the letter which had decided him
to leave for Bergen immediately, in order that he might consult with
Help Bros., and with the most experienced seamen of that port.
The journey was made as quickly as possible. On reaching Moel, Sylvius
Hogg sent his companion back with the kariol, and took passage upon
one of the birch-bark canoes that are used in traversing the waters of
Lake Finn. Then, at Tinoset, instead of turning his steps toward the
south--that is to say, in the direction of Bamble--he hired another
kariol, and took the Hardanger route, in order to reach the gulf of
that name in the shortest possible time. From there, a little steamer
called the "Run" transported him to the mouth of the gulf, and
finally, after crossing a network of fiords and inlets, between the
islands and islets that stud the Norwegian coast, he landed at Bergen
on the morning of the second of July.
This old city, laved by the waters of both the Logne and Hardanger,
is delightfully situated in a picturesque region which would bear a
striking resemblance to Switzerland if an artificial arm of the sea
should ever conduct the waters of the blue Mediterranean to the foot
of the Alps.
A magnificent avenue of ash trees leads to the town.
The houses, with their fantastic, pointed gables, are as dazzling
in their whiteness as the habitations of Arabian cities, and are all
congregated in an irregular triangle that contains a population
of about thirty thousand souls. Its churches date from the twelfth
century. Its tall cathedral is visible from afar to vessels returning
from sea, and it is the capital of commercial Norway, though
situated off the regular lines of travel, and a long distance
from the two cities which rank first and second in the kingdom,
politically--Christiania and Drontheim.
Under any other circumstances the professor would have taken great
pleasure in studying this important city, which is Dutch rather than
Norwegian in its aspect and manners. It had been one of the cities
included in his original route, but since his adventure on the
Maristien and his subsequent sojourn at Dal, his plans had undergone
important changes.
Sylvius Hogg was no longer the traveling deputy, anxious to ascertain
the exact condition of the country from a commercial as well as a
political point of view. He was the guest of the Hansens, the debtor
of Joel and Hulda, whose interests now outweighed all else in his
estimation--a debtor who was resolved to pay his debt of gratitude at
any cost, though he felt that what he was about to attempt for them
was but a trifle.
On his arrival in Bergen, Sylvius Hogg landed at the lower end of
the town, on the wharf used as a fish-market, but he lost no time in
repairing to the part of the town known as the Tyske Bodrone quarter,
where Help, Junior, of the house of Help Bros., resided.
It was raining, of course, for rain falls in Bergen on at least three
hundred and sixty days of every year; but it would be impossible
to find a house better protected against the wind and rain than the
hospitable mansion of Help, Junior, and nowhere could Sylvius Hogg
have received a warmer and more cordial welcome. His friend took
possession of him very much as if he had been some precious bale of
merchandise which had been consigned to his care, and which would be
delivered up only upon the presentation of a formal order.
Sylvius Hogg immediately made known the object of his visit to Help,
Junior. He inquired if any news had yet been received of the "Viking,"
and if Bergen mariners were really of the opinion that she had gone
down with all on board. He also inquired if this probable shipwreck,
which had plunged so many homes into mourning, had not led the
maritime authorities to make some search for the missing vessel.
"But where were they to begin?" replied Help, Junior. "They do not
even know where the shipwreck occurred."
"True, my dear Help, and for that very reason they should endeavor to
ascertain."
"But how?"
"Why, though they do not know where the 'Viking' foundered, they
certainly know where the bottle was picked up by the Danish vessel. So
we have one valuable clew which it would be very wrong to ignore."
"Where was it?"
"Listen, my dear Help, and I will tell you."
Sylvius Hogg then apprised his friend of the important information
which had just been received through the Naval Department, and the
full permission given him to utilize it.
The bottle containing Ole Kamp's lottery-ticket had been picked up on
the third of June, about two hundred miles south of Iceland, by the
schooner "Christian," of Elsineur, Captain Mosselman, and the wind was
blowing strong from the south-east at the time.
The captain had immediately examined the contents of the bottle, as it
was certainly his duty to do, inasmuch as he might-have rendered very
effectual aid to the survivors of the "Viking" had he known where
the catastrophe occurred; but the lines scrawled upon the back of the
lottery-ticket gave no clew, so the "Christian" could not direct her
course to the scene of the shipwreck.
This Captain Mosselman was an honest man. Very possibly some less
scrupulous person would have kept the ticket; but he had only one
thought--to transmit the ticket to the person to whom it was addressed
as soon as he entered port. Hulda Hansen, of Dal, that was enough. It
was not necessary to know any more.
But on reaching Copenhagen, Captain Mosselman said to himself that it
would perhaps be better to transmit the document through the hands of
the Danish authorities, instead of sending it straight to the person
for whom it was intended. This would be the safest, as well as
the regular way. He did so, and the Naval Department at Copenhagen
promptly notified the Naval Department at Christiania.
Sylvius Hogg's letter, asking for information in regard to the
"Viking," had already been received, and the deep interest he took in
the Hansen family was well known. It was known, too, that he intended
to remain in Dal some time longer, so it was there that the ticket
found by the Danish sea-captain was sent, to be delivered into Hulda
Hansen's hands by the famous deputy.
And ever since that time the public had taken a deep interest in the
affair, which had not been forgotten, thanks to the touching details
given by the newspapers of both continents.
Sylvius Hogg stated the case briefly to his friend Help, who listened
to him with the deepest interest, and without once interrupting him.
He concluded his recital by saying:
"There is certainly one point about which there can be no possible
doubt: this is, that on the third day of June, about one month after
the departure from Saint-Pierre-Miquelon, the ticket was picked up two
hundred miles south-west of Iceland."
"And that is all you know?"
"Yes, my dear Help, but by consulting some of the most experienced
mariners of Bergen, men who are familiar with that locality, with the
general direction of its winds, and, above-all, with its currents,
will it not be a comparatively easy matter to decide upon the route
followed by the bottle? Then, by calculating its probable speed, and
the time that elapsed before it was picked up, it certainly would not
be impossible to discover the spot at which it was cast into the sea
by Ole Kamp, that is to say, the scene of the shipwreck."
Help, Junior, shook his head with a doubting air. Would not any search
that was based upon such vague indications as these be sure to prove a
failure? The shipowner, being of a decided, cool and practical turn
of mind, certainly thought so, and felt it his duty to say as much to
Sylvius Hogg.
"Perhaps it may prove a failure, friend Help," was the prompt
rejoinder; "but the fact that we have been able to secure only vague
information, is certainly no reason for abandoning the undertaking. I
am anxious that nothing shall be left undone for these poor people to
whom I am indebted for my life. Yes, if need be, I would not hesitate
to sacrifice all I possess to find Ole Kamp, and bring him safely back
to his betrothed, Hulda Hansen."
Then Sylvius Hogg proceeded to give a full account of his adventure
on the Rjukanfos. He related the intrepid manner in which Joel and his
sister had risked their own lives to save him, and how, but for their
timely assistance, he would not have had the pleasure of being the
guest of his friend Help that day.
His friend Help, as we said before, was an eminently practical man,
but he was not opposed to useless and even impossible efforts when
a question of humanity was involved, and he finally approved what
Sylvius Hogg wished to attempt.
"Sylvius," he said, "I will assist you by every means in my power.
Yes, you are right. However small the chance of finding some survivor
of the 'Viking' may be, and especially of finding this brave Ole whose
betrothed saved your life, it must not be neglected."
"No, Help, no," interrupted the professor; "not if it were but one
chance in a hundred thousand."
"So this very day, Sylvius, I will assemble all the most experienced
seamen of Bergen in my office. I will send for all who have navigated
or who are now navigating the ocean between Iceland and Newfoundland,
and we will see what they advise us to do."
"And what they advise us to do we will do," added Sylvius Hogg,
without an instant's hesitation. "I have the approval of the
government. In fact, I am authorized to send one of its dispatch-boats
in search of the 'Viking,' and I feel sure that no one will hesitate
to take part in such a work."
"I will pay a visit to the marine bureau, and see what I can learn
there," remarked Help, Junior.
"Would you like me to accompany you?"
"It is not necessary, and you must be fatigued."
"Fatigued! I--at my age?"
"Nevertheless, you had better rest until my return, my dear and
ever-young Sylvius."
That same day there was a large meeting of captains of merchant and
whaling vessels, as well as pilots, in the office of Help Bros.--an
assemblage of men who were still navigating the seas, as well as of
those who had retired from active service.
Sylvius Hogg explained the situation briefly but clearly. He told them
the date--May 3d--on which the bottle had been cast into the sea by
Ole Kamp, and the date--June 3d--on which it had been picked up by the
Danish captain, two hundred miles south-west of Iceland.
The discussion that followed was long and serious. There was not one
of these brave men who were not familiar with the currents of that
locality, and upon the direction of these currents they must, of
course, chiefly depend for a solution of the problem.
But it was an incontestable fact that at the time of the shipwreck,
and during the interval that elapsed between the sailing of the
"Viking" from Saint-Pierre-Miquelon, and the discovery of the bottle
by the Danish vessel, constant gales from the south-east had disturbed
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