Ticket No. 9672

“What time is it?” inquired Dame Hansen, shaking the ashes from her pipe, the last curling rings from which were slowly disappearing between the stained rafters overhead.

“Eight o’clock, mother,” replied Hulda.

“It isn’t likely that any travelers will come tonight. The weather is too stormy.”

“I agree with you. At all events, the rooms are in readiness, and if anyone comes, I shall be sure to hear them.”

“Has your brother returned?”

“Not yet.”

“Didn’t he say he would be back tonight?”

“No, mother. Joel went to take a traveler to Lake Tinn, and as he didn’t start until very late, I do not think he can get back to Dal before tomorrow.”

“Then he will spend the night at Moel, probably.”

“Yes; unless he should take it into his head to go on to Bamble to see Farmer Helmboe.”

“And his daughter Siegfrid.”

“Yes. Siegfrid, my best friend, whom I love like a sister!” replied the young girl, smiling.

“All, well, Hulda, shut up the house, and let’s go to bed.”

“You are not ill, are you, mother?”

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 karjol 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 karjol 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 karjol 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 karjol stopped. They heard a voice calling; but it was not the voice of Ole Kamp!

Almost immediately someone 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.

Sandgoist sat enthroned in the big armchair. He did not even take the trouble to rise on the entrance of the brother and sister. He merely turned his head and stared at them over his spectacles.

“Ah! here is the charming Hulda, if I’m not mistaken,” he exclaimed in a tone that incensed Joel even more deeply.

Dame Hansen was standing in front of the man in an humble almost cringing attitude, but she instantly straightened herself up, and seemed greatly annoyed at the sight of her children.

“And this is her brother, I suppose?” added Sandgoist.

“Yes, her brother,” retorted Joel.

Then, advancing until within a few steps of the armchair, he asked, brusquely:

“What do you want here?”

Sandgoist gave him a withering look; then, in a harsh voice, and without rising, he replied:

“You will soon learn, young man. You happen in just at the right time. I was anxious to see you, and if your sister is a sensible girl we shall soon come to an understanding. But sit down, and you, too, young woman, had better do the same.”