Ticket No. 9672, Jules Verne [books to read for teens .txt] 📗

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 shan’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 shan’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 carthorse, 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 anyone 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 bridesmaid 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