CHAPTER XII.
So this was the young man's secret! This was the source from which heexpected 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 thelast farewell for Hulda.
This time Sylvius Hogg was completely disconcerted. He looked at theletter, then at the ticket. He was speechless with dismay. Besides,what could he say? How could any one doubt that the "Viking" had gonedown with all on board?
While Sylvius Hogg was reading the letter Hulda had nerved herself tolisten, but after the concluding words had been read, she fell backunconscious in Joel's arms, and it became necessary to carry her toher own little chamber, where her mother administered restoratives.After she recovered consciousness she asked to be left alone forawhile, and she was now kneeling by her bedside, praying for OleKamp's soul.
Dame Hansen returned to the hall. At first she started toward theprofessor, as if with the intention of speaking to him, then suddenlyturning 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 whichsuch a dense cloud of misfortune seemed to be hanging. He longed forthe outer air, the fierce blast of the tempest, and spent a part ofthe 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 thehall two or three times, he paused and listened, in the hope that hemight hear a summons from the young girl, but disappointed in this,he finally seated himself at the table, and abandoned himself to histhoughts.
"Can it be possible that Hulda is never to see her betrothedagain?" he said to himself. "No; such a misfortune is inconceivable.Everything that is within me revolts at the thought! Even admittingthat the 'Viking' has gone to the bottom of the ocean, what conclusiveproof have we of Ole's death? I can not believe it. In all cases ofshipwreck time alone can determine whether or not any one has survivedthe catastrophe. Yes; I still have my doubts, and I shall continueto have them, even if Hulda and Joel refuse to share them. If the'Viking' really foundered, how does it happen that no floatingfragments of the wreck have been seen at sea--at least nothing exceptthe bottle in which poor Ole placed his last message, and with it allhe had left in the world."
Sylvius Hogg had the ticket still in his hand, and again he lookedat it, and turned it over and held it up between him and the waninglight--this scrap of paper upon which poor Ole had based his hopes offortune.
But the professor, wishing to examine it still more carefully, rose,listened again to satisfy himself that the poor girl upstairs was notcalling her mother or brother, and then entered his room.
The ticket proved to be a ticket in the Christiania Schools Lottery--avery popular lottery in Norway at that time. The capital prize was onehundred thousand marks; the total value of the other prizes, ninetythousand marks, and the number of tickets issued, one million, all ofwhich had been sold.
Ole Kamp's ticket bore the number 9672; but whether this number provedlucky or unlucky, whether the young sailor had any secret reason forhis 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, intwenty-eight days; but it was his last request that Hulda should takehis place on that occasion.
By the light of his candle, Sylvius Hogg carefully reread thelines written upon the back of the ticket, as if with the hope ofdiscovering some hidden meaning.
The lines had been written with ink, and it was evident that Ole'shand had not trembled while tracing them. This showed that the mateof the 'Viking' retained all his presence of mind at the time ofthe shipwreck, and that he was consequently in a condition to takeadvantage of any means of escape that might offer, such as a floatingspar or plank, in case the raging waters had not swallowed upeverything when the vessel foundered.
Very often writings of this kind that are recovered from the sea statethe locality in which the catastrophe occurred; but in this neitherthe latitude nor longitude were mentioned; nor was there anythingto indicate the nearest land. Hence one must conclude that no one onboard knew where the "Viking" was at the time of the disaster. Drivenon, doubtless, by a tempest of resistless power, the vessel must havebeen carried far out of her course, and the clouded sky making asolar observation impossible, there had been no way of determining theship's whereabouts for several days; so it was more than probable thatno one would ever know whether it was near the shores of North Americaor of Iceland that the gallant crew had sunk to rise no more.
This was a circumstance calculated to destroy all hope, even in thebosoms of the most sanguine.
With some clew, no matter how vague, a search for the missing vesselwould have been possible. A ship or steamer could be dispatched to thescene of the catastrophe and perhaps find some trace of it. Besides,was it not quite possible that one or more survivors had succeeded inreaching some point on the shores of the Arctic continent, and thatthey were still there, homeless, and destitute, and hopelessly exiledfrom their native land?
Such was the theory that gradually assumed shape in Sylvius Hogg'smind--a theory that it would scarcely do to advance to Joel and Hulda,so painful would the disappointment prove if it should be withoutfoundation.
"And though the writing gives no clew to the scene of thecatastrophe," he said to himself, "we at least know where the bottlewas picked up. This letter does not state, but they must know at theNaval Department; and is it not an indication that might be usedto advantage? By studying the direction of the currents and ofthe prevailing winds at the time of the shipwreck might it not bepossible? I am certainly going to write again. Search must be made, nomatter how small the chances of success. No; I will never desert poorHulda! And until I have positive proofs of it I will never credit thedeath of her betrothed."
Sylvius Hogg reasoned thus; but at the same time he resolved to saynothing about the measures he intended to adopt, or the search heintended to urge on with all his influence. Hulda and her brother mustknow nothing about his writing to Christiania; moreover, he resolvedto postpone indefinitely the departure which had been announced forthe next day, or rather he would leave in a few days, but only for atrip to Bergen. There, he could learn from the Messrs. Help all theparticulars concerning the "Viking," ask the opinion of the mostexperienced mariners, and decide upon the way in which search couldbest be made.
In the meantime, from information furnished by the Navy Department,the press of Christiania, then that of Norway, Sweden, and finallyall Europe, gradually got hold of this story of a lottery tickettransformed into an important legal document. There was something verytouching about this gift from a shipwrecked mariner to his betrothed.
The oldest of the Norwegian journals, the "Morgen-Blad," was thefirst to relate the story of the "Viking" and Ole Kamp; and of thethirty-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. Therewas the sinking "Viking," with tattered sails and hull partiallydestroyed, about to disappear beneath the waves. Ole stood in the bowthrowing the bottle containing his last message into the sea, at thesame time commending his soul to God. In a luminous cloud in the dimdistance a wave deposited the bottle at the feet of his betrothed. Thewhole picture was upon an enlarged representation of a lottery ticketbearing the number 9672 in bold relief. An unpretending conception,unquestionably, but one that could hardly fail to be regarded as amasterpiece in the land which still clings to legends of the Undinesand Valkyries. Then the story was republished and commented upon inFrance and England, and even in the United States. The story of Huldaand Ole became familiar to every one through the medium of pencil andpen. This young Norwegian girl, without knowing it, held a prominentplace in the sympathy and esteem of the public. The poor child littlesus
pected the interest she had aroused, however; besides, nothingcould have diverted her mind from the loss that engrossed her everythought.
This being the case, no one will be surprised at the effect producedupon both continents--an effect easily explained when we remember howprone we all are to superstition. A lottery ticket so providentiallyrescued from the waves could hardly fail to be the winning ticket. Wasit not miraculously designated as the winner of the capital prize? Wasit not worth a fortune--the fortune upon which Ole Kamp had counted?
Consequently it is not surprising that overtures for the purchase ofthis ticket came from all parts of the country. At first, the pricesoffered were small, but they increased from day to day; and it wasevident that they would continue to increase in proportion as the dayof the drawing approached.
These offers came not only from different parts of Scandinavia, whichis a firm believer in the active intervention of supernatural powersin all mundane matters--but also from foreign lands, and even fromFrance.
Even the phlegmatic English grew excited over the matter, andsubsequently the Americans, who are not prone to spend their money sounpractically. A host of letters came to Dal, and the newspapersdid not fail to make mention of the large sums offered to theHansen family. A sort of minor stock exchange seemed to have beenestablished, in which values were constantly changing, but always forthe better.
Several hundred marks were, in fact, offered for this ticket, whichhad only one chance in a million of winning the capital prize. Thiswas absurd, unquestionably, but superstitious people do not stop toreason; and as their imaginations became more and more excited, theywere likely to bid much higher.
This proved to be the case. One week after the event the papersannounced that the amounts offered for the ticket exceeded onethousand, fifteen hundred and even two thousand marks. A resident ofManchester, England, had even offered one hundred pounds sterling, ortwo thousand five hundred marks; while an American, and a Bostonianat that, announced his willingness to give one thousand dollars forticket No. 9672 of the Christiania Schools Lottery.
It is needless to say that Hulda troubled herself very little aboutthe matter that was exciting the public to such an extent. She wouldnot even read the letters that were addressed to her on the subject;but the professor insisted that she must not be left in ignorance ofthese offers, as Ole Kamp had bequeathed his right and title in thisticket to her.
Hulda refused all these offers. This ticket was the last letter of herbetrothed.
No one need suppose that this refusal was due to an expectation thatthe ticket would win one of the prizes in the lottery. No. She sawin it only the last farewell of her shipwrecked lover--a memento shewished to reverently preserve. She cared nothing for a fortune thatOle could not share with her. What could be more touching than thisworship of a souvenir?
On apprising her of these different offers, however, neither SylviusHogg nor Joel made any attempt to influence Hulda. She was to beguided entirely by her own wishes in the matter. They knew now whather wishes were.
Joel, moreover, approved his sister's decision unreservedly. OleKamp'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 soldand resold, passing from hand to hand, transformed, as it were, intoa piece of merchandise, until the time appointed for the drawingarrived, when it would very probably become a worthless scrap ofpaper?
And Sylvius Hogg went even further. Was it, perhaps, because he wasslightly superstitious? No. Still, if Ole Kamp had been there, theprofessor 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 whatwill come of it. One never knows; no, one never knows!"
And when Sylvius Hogg, professor of law, and; a member of theStorthing, felt in this way, one can hardly wonder at the infatuationof 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 againstthe young girl's decision--at least no one except the mother.
She was often heard to censure it, especially in Hulda's absence, afact that caused poor Joel not a little mortification and chagrin, forhe was very much afraid that she would not always confine herself tocovert censure, and that she would urge Hulda to accept one of theoffers 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 orcommendable in her daughter's refusal. She was thinking only of thislarge sum of five thousand marks. A single word from Hulda would bringit into the family. She had no faith either in the extraordinaryvalue of the ticket, Norwegian though she was; and to sacrifice firethousand marks for a millionth chance of winning one hundred thousandwas an idea too absurd to be entertained far a moment by her cool andpractical mind.
All superstition aside, it is undeniable that the sacrifice of acertainty, under such conditions, was not an act of worldly wisdom;but as we said before, the ticket was not a lottery ticket in Hulda'seyes; it was Ole's last farewell, and it would have broken her heartto part with it.
Nevertheless, Dame Hansen certainly disapproved her daughter'sresolve. It was evident, too, that her dissatisfaction was constantlyincreasing, and it seemed more than likely that at no very distant dayshe would endeavor to make Hulda change her decision. Indeed, she hadalready intimated as much to Joel, who had promptly taken his sister'spart.
Sylvius Hogg was, of course, kept informed of what was going on. Suchan attempt on the mother's part would only be another trial added tothose Hulda was already obliged to endure, and he was anxious to avertit if possible. Joel mentioned the subject to him sometimes.
"Isn't my sister right in refusing?" he asked. "And am I not justifiedin upholding her in her refusal?"
"Unquestionably," replied Sylvius Hogg. "And yet, from a mathematicalpoint of view, your mother is a million times right. But the scienceof mathematics does not govern everything in this world. Calculationhas nothing to do with the promptings of the heart."
During the next two weeks they were obliged to watch Hulda veryclosely, for the state of her health was such as to excite seriousanxiety. Fortunately loving care and attention were not wanting. AtSylvius 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 ofcuring her was Ole's return, and this means God only could provide.Still, Sylvius Hogg was untiring in his efforts to console the younggirl. 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 ticketforwarded by the Navy Department. It was now the thirteenth of June.A fortnight more, and the drawing of the lottery would take place withgreat pomp in the main hall of the University of Christiania.
On the morning of the thirtieth day of June Sylvius Hogg receivedanother letter from the Navy Department. This letter advised him toconfer with the maritime authorities of Bergen, and authorized him toimmediately organize an expedition to search for the missing "Viking."
The professor did not want Joel or Hulda to know what he intended todo, so he merely told them that he must leave them for a few days toattend 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 SylviusHogg.
Joel offered to accompany him, but not wishing him to know that he wasgoing to Bergen, the professor would only allow him to go as far asMoel. Besides, it would not do for Hulda to be left alone with hermother. After being confined to her bed several days, she was nowbeginning to sit up a little, though she was still very weak and notable to leave her room.
At eleven o'clock the kario
l was at the door of the inn, and afterbidding Hulda good-bye, the professor took his seat in the vehiclebeside Joel. In another minute they had both disappeared behind alarge clump of birches at the turn in the road.
That same evening Joel returned to Dal.
END OF FIRST HALF.