Ticket No. 9672 (6 page)

The prospect was not very cheering, certainly, for the wind was
blowing a gale, and the stranger concluded not to venture out. Still
he did not waste his time. With his pipe in his mouth he walked about
the inn as if trying to familiarize himself with the arrangement
of the interior. He visited all the different rooms, examined the
furniture, and peered into cupboards and sideboards with as much
coolness as if he had been in his own house.

Though the man was singular in appearance, his actions were certainly
even more singular. Finally he seated himself in the big arm-chair,
and proceeded to question Dame Hansen in a curt, almost rude tone. How
long had the inn been built? Was it her husband that built it, or did
he inherit it? How much land was there around it, and what was the
extent of the adjoining
souter
? Was the inn well patronized, and
did it pay well? How many tourists came there on an average during the
summer? Did they usually spend one or several days there? etc., etc.

It was evident that the stranger had not looked at the register that
had been placed in his room, for that would have given him all the
information he desired upon this last point.

In fact, the book was still on the table where Hulda had placed it the
evening before, and the traveler's name was not in it.

"I do not understand how and why these matters can interest you, sir,"
said Dame Hansen at last; "but if you wish to know the state of
our business, nothing could be easier. You have only to examine the
register, in which you would greatly oblige me by entering your name
according to custom."

"My name? I will write my name in it, certainly. I will write it there
before I leave, which will be immediately after breakfast, as I am
anxious to get back to Drammen by to-morrow evening."

"Drammen!" repeated Dame Hansen, hastily.

"Yes. Will you give me my breakfast as soon as possible?"

"Do you live in Drammen?"

"Yes. May I ask if there is anything astonishing about the fact that I
reside in Drammen?"

So, after spending scarcely twenty-four hours in Dal, or rather at
the inn, the traveler left without making the slightest effort to see
anything of the surrounding country, Gousta, and Rjukanfos, and the
wonders of the valley of the Vesfjorddal were entirely ignored.

It certainly could not have been for pleasure that he left Drammen, so
he must have come on business, and the sole object of his visit seemed
to have been a careful examination of Dame Hansen's establishment.

It was plain to Hulda that her mother was deeply troubled, for
she seated herself in her big arm-chair, and pushing aside her
spinning-wheel, remained there silent and motionless.

In the meantime the traveler had gone into the dining-room and seated
himself at the table. Though the breakfast was as carefully prepared
as the dinner of the evening before, it seemed to give no better
satisfaction; and yet the guest eat and drank in the same leisurely
fashion. His attention seemed to be chiefly bestowed upon the
silver—a luxury highly prized among Norwegian peasants, where the
few forks and spoons which are handed down from father to son are
carefully preserved with the family jewels.

Meanwhile the
skydskarl
busied himself with his preparations for
departure; and by eleven o'clock the horse and kariol were standing
before the door of the inn.

The weather was still threatening; the sky was dull and overcast, and
now and then big drops of rain dashed against the window-panes; but
this traveler with his heavy cloak lined with sheep-skin was not a man
to worry about the weather.

Breakfast over, he called for one more glass of brandy, lighted his
pipe, and put on his coat, then stepping out into the hall he called
for his bill.

"I will make it out immediately," replied Hulda, seating herself at a
small desk.

"Be quick about it," said the traveler. "And now," he added, "you had
better bring me your book so I can write my name in it."

Dame Hansen rose and left the room to get the register, which, on her
return, she placed upon the large table.

The stranger picked up a pen and took one more long look at Dame
Hansen over his spectacles; then he wrote his name in a large, round
hand, and closed the book.

Just at that moment Hulda handed him his bill. He took it, examined
each item separately, and then proceeded to add up the figures,
grumbling all the while.

"Hum!" he exclaimed. "This is very dear! Seven marks and a half for a
night's lodging and two meals!"

"You forget the
skydskarl
and the horse," remarked Hulda.

"Nevertheless, I think your charge very high. I really don't see how
you can expect to prosper if you are so exorbitant in your charges."

"You owe me nothing, sir," said Dame Hansen, in a voice that trembled
so that it was scarcely audible.

She had just opened the register and read the name inscribed upon it,
and now taking the bill and tearing it up, she repeated:

"You owe me nothing."

"That is exactly my opinion,'" replied the stranger.

And without bidding them good-bye on his departure any more than he
had bidden them good-day on his arrival, he climbed into his kariol,
and the
skydskarl
jumped upon the board behind him. A few seconds
later he had disappeared around a turn in the road. When Hulda opened
the book she found there only this name—

"Sandgoist, from Drammen."

It was on the afternoon of the following day that Joel was to return
home; and Hulda, who knew that her brother would come back by the
table-lands of the Gousta and along the left bank of the Maan, went to
meet him at the ferry across that impetuous stream. On arriving there
she seated herself on the little wharf which serves as a landing-place
for the ferry-boat, and abandoned herself to her thoughts.

To the deep uneasiness caused by the non-arrival of the "Viking"
was now added another great anxiety. This last was caused by the
mysterious visit of Sandgoist, and Dame Hansen's agitation in his
presence. Why had she destroyed the bill and declined to accept the
money due her as soon as she learned her guest's name? There must be
some secret concealed under all this—and a grave one.

Hulda was finally aroused from her reverie by the approach of Joel.
She first caught a glimpse of him as he was descending the topmost
slope; soon he reappeared in the midst of a narrow clearing between
the burned and fallen trees. Then he vanished from sight behind a
clump of pines, and at last reached the opposite bank and jumped
aboard the ferry-boat. With a few vigorous strokes of the oar he
propelled the boat swiftly through the rapids, and then leaped upon
the little pier beside his sister.

"Has Ole returned?" he asked, hastily.

It was of Ole that he thought first of all; but his question remained
unanswered.

"Have you received no letter from him?"

"Not one."

And Hulda burst into tears.

"Don't cry, little sister," exclaimed Joel, "don't cry. You make me
wretched. I can not bear to see you weep. Let me see! You say you have
received no letter. The matter is beginning to look a little serious,
I must admit, though there is no reason to despair as yet. If you
desire it, I will go to Bergen, and make inquiries there. I will call
on Help Bros. Possibly they may have some news from Newfoundland. It
is quite possible that the 'Viking' may have put into some port for
repairs, or on account of bad weather. The wind has been blowing
a hurricane for more than a week, and not unfrequently ships from
Newfoundland take refuge in Iceland, or at the Faroe Islands. This
very thing happened to Ole two years ago, when he was on board the
'Strenna,' you remember. I am only saying what I really think, little
sister. Dry your eyes. If you make me lose heart what will become of
us?"

"But I can't help it, Joel."

"Hulda! Hulda! do not lose courage. I assure you that I do not
despair, not by any means."

"Can I really believe you, Joel?"

"Yes, you can. Now, to reassure you, shall I start for Bergen
to-morrow morning, or this very evening?"

"No, no, you must not leave me! No, you must not!" sobbed Hulda,
clinging to her brother as if he was the only friend she had left in
the world.

They started toward the inn. Joel sheltered his sister from the rain
as well as he could, but the wind soon became so violent that they
were obliged to take refuge in the hut of the ferryman, which stood a
few hundred yards from the bank of the Maan.

There they were obliged to remain until the wind abated a little, and
Joel was glad of an opportunity to have a longer conversation with his
sister.

"How does mother seem?" he inquired.

"Even more depressed in spirits than usual," replied Hulda.

"Has any one been here during my absence?"

"Yes, one traveler, but he has gone away."

"So there is no tourist at the inn now, and no one has asked for a
guide?"

"No, Joel."

"So much the better, for I would much rather not leave you. Besides,
if this unpleasant weather continues, it is not likely that many
tourists will visit the Telemark this season. But tell me, was it
yesterday that your guest left Dal?"

"Yes, yesterday morning."

"Who was he?"

"A man who resides in Drammen, and whose name is Sandgoist."

"Sandgoist?"

"Do you know him?"

"No."

Hulda had asked herself more than once if she should tell her brother
all that had occurred in his absence. When Joel heard how coolly their
guest had conducted himself, and how he seemed to have come merely to
appraise the house and its contents, what would he think? Would not
he, too, fear that his mother must have had grave reasons for acting
as she had? What were these reasons? What could there be in common
between her and Sandgoist? Joel would certainly desire to know, and
would be sure to question his mother, and as Dame Hansen, who was
always so uncommunicative, would doubtless persist in the silence she
had maintained hitherto, the relations between her and her children,
which were so unnatural and constrained now, would become still more
unpleasant.

But would Hulda be able to keep anything from Joel? A secret from him!
Would it not be a violation of the close friendship that united them?
No, this friendship must never be broken! So Hulda suddenly resolved
to tell him all.

"Have you ever heard any one speak of this Sandgoist when you were in
Drammen?" she asked.

"Never."

"But our mother knew him, Joel; at least by name."

"She knew Sandgoist?"

"Yes."

"I certainly never heard the name before."

"But she has, though she had never seen the man until day before
yesterday."

Then Hulda related all the incidents that had marked Sandgoist's
sojourn at the inn, not neglecting to mention Dame Hansen's singular
conduct at the moment of his departure. Then she hastened to add:

"I think, Joel, it would be best not to say anything to mother about
it at present. You know her disposition, and it would only make her
still more unhappy. The future will probably reveal what has been
concealed from us in the past. Heaven grant that Ole may be restored
to us, and then if any misfortune should befall the family there will
at least be three of us to share it."

Joel had listened to his sister with profound attention. Yes, it
was evident that Dame Hansen must be at this man's mercy, and it
was impossible to doubt that he had come to take an inventory of
the property. And the destruction of the bill at the time of his
departure—a destruction that seemed only right and proper to
him—what could be the meaning of that?

"You are right, Hulda," said Joel. "I had better not say anything to
mother about it. Perhaps she will feel sorry by and by that she has
not confided in us. Heaven grant that it may not be too late! She must
be wretched, poor woman! How strange it is that she can not understand
that her children were born to sympathize with her."

"She will find it out some day, Joel."

"Yes; so let us wait patiently, little sister. Still, there is no
reason why I should not try to find out who the man is. Perhaps Farmer
Helmboe knows him. I will ask him the first time I go to Bamble, and
if need be I will push on to Drammen. There it will not be difficult
for me to at least learn what the man does, and what people think of
him."

"They do not think well of him, I am sure," replied Hulda. "His face
is very unprepossessing, and I shall be very much surprised if there
is a noble soul concealed under such a repulsive exterior."

"Come, come, little sister, it will not do to judge people by outward
appearances," exclaimed Joel. "Don't be so suspicious, Hulda, and
cheer up. Ole will soon be with us, and we will scold him roundly for
having kept us waiting."

The rain having ceased the pair left the hut and started up the path
leading to the inn.

"By the way, I must go away again to-morrow, little sister," said
Joel.

"Go away again to-morrow!" repeated Hulda.

"Yes, early in the morning. On leaving the Hardanger I was informed
by a comrade that a traveler, coming from the north by way of the
Rjukanfos would arrive to-morrow."

"Who is this traveler?"

"I don't know his name, but I must be on hand to conduct him to Dal."

"Ah, well! go, then, as there is no help for it," replied Hulda, with
a sigh.

"Yes, I must start to-morrow at sunrise. Do you really feel so badly
about it, Hulda?"

"Yes, brother, I feel much more unhappy when you leave me, even if it
is only for a few hours."

"Ah, well, this time I shall not go alone."

"Why, who is to accompany you?"