Ticket No. 9672 (13 page)

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.

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.