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Authors: Jules Verne

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The discussion that followed was long and serious. There was not one
of these brave men who were not familiar with the currents of that
locality, and upon the direction of these currents they must, of
course, chiefly depend for a solution of the problem.

But it was an incontestable fact that at the time of the shipwreck,
and during the interval that elapsed between the sailing of the
"Viking" from Saint-Pierre-Miquelon, and the discovery of the bottle
by the Danish vessel, constant gales from the south-east had disturbed
that portion of the Atlantic. In fact, it was to one of these tempests
that the catastrophe must be attributed. Probably the "Viking," being
unable to carry sail in the teeth of the tempest, had been obliged to
scud before the windy and it being at this season of the year that the
ice from the polar seas begins to make its way down into the Atlantic,
it was more than likely that a collision had taken place, and that
the "Viking" had been crushed by a floating iceberg, which it was
impossible to avoid.

Still, in that case, was it not more than probable that the whole,
or a part, of the ship's crew had taken refuge upon one of these ice
fields after having placed a quantity of provisions upon it? If they
had really done so, the iceberg, having certainly been driven in a
north-westerly direction by the winds which were prevailing at the
time, it was not unlikely that the survivors had been able to reach
some point on the coast of Greenland, so it was in that direction, and
in those seas, that search should be made.

This was the unanimous opinion of these experienced mariners, and
there could be no doubt that this was the only feasible plan. But
would they find aught save a few fragments of the "Viking" in case the
vessel had been crushed by some enormous iceberg? Could they hope to
effect the rescue of any survivors?

This was more than doubtful, and the professor on putting the question
perceived that the more competent could not, or would not, reply.
Still, this was no cause for inaction—they were all agreed upon that
point—but action must be taken without delay.

There are always several government vessels at Bergen, and one of
the three dispatch-boats charged with the surveillance of the western
coast of Norway is attached to this port. As good luck would have it,
that very boat was now riding at anchor in the bay.

After making a note of the various suggestions advanced by the most
experienced seamen who had assembled at the office of Help, Junior,
Sylvius Hogg went aboard the dispatch-boat "Telegraph," and apprised
the commander of the special mission intrusted to him by the
government.

The commander received him very cordially, and declared his
willingness to render all the assistance in his power. He had become
familiar with the navigation of the locality specified during several
long and dangerous voyages from the Loffoden Islands and Finmark to
the Iceland and Newfoundland fisheries; so he would have experience
to aid him in the humane work he was about to undertake, as he fully
agreed with the seamen already consulted that it was in the waters
between Iceland and Greenland that they must look for the survivors,
or at least for some trace of the "Viking." If he did not succeed
there, he would, however, explore the neighboring shores, and perhaps
the eastern part of Baffin's Bay.

"I am all ready to start, sir," he added. "My coal and provisions
are on board, my crew has been selected, and I can set sail this very
day."

"Thank you, captain," replied the professor, "not only for your
promptness, but for the very kind reception you have given me. But one
question more: Can you tell me how long it will take you to reach the
shores of Greenland?"

"My vessel makes about eleven knots an hour, and as the distance from
Bergen to Greenland is only about twenty degrees, I can count upon
arriving there in less than a week."

"Make all possible haste, captain," replied Sylvius Hogg. "If any
of the shipwrecked crew did survive the catastrophe, two months have
already elapsed since the vessel went down, and they are perhaps in a
destitute and even famishing condition upon some desert coast."

"Yes, there is no time to lose, Monsieur Hogg. I will start this very
day, keep my vessel going at the top of her speed, and as soon as
I find any trace whatever I will inform the Naval Department at
Christiania by a telegram from Newfoundland."

"God-speed you, captain," replied Sylvius Hogg, "and may you succeed."

That same day the "Telegraph" set sail, followed by the sympathizing
cheers of the entire population of Bergen, and it was not without keen
emotion that the kind-hearted people watched the vessel make its way
down the channel, and finally disappear behind the islands of the
fiord.

But Sylvius Hogg did not confine his efforts to the expedition
undertaken by the dispatch-boat "Telegraph." On the contrary, he was
resolved to multiply the chances of finding some trace of the missing
"Viking." Would it not be possible to excite a spirit of emulation in
the captains of merchant vessels and fishing-smacks that navigated the
waters of Iceland and the Faroe Islands? Unquestionably. So a reward
of two thousand marks was promised in the name of the government to
any vessel that would furnish any information in regard to the missing
"Viking," and one of five thousand marks to any vessel that would
bring one of the survivors of the shipwreck back to his native land.

So, during the two days spent in Bergen Sylvius Hogg did everything
in his power to insure the success of the enterprise, and he was
cheerfully seconded in his efforts by Help, Junior, and all the
maritime authorities. M. Help would have been glad to have the worthy
deputy as a guest some time longer, but though Sylvius Hogg thanked
him cordially he declined to prolong his stay. He was anxious to
rejoin Hulda and Joel, being afraid to leave them to themselves too
long, but Help, Junior, promised him that any news that might be
received should be promptly transmitted to Dal.

So, on the morning of the 4th, after taking leave of his friend
Help, Sylvius Hogg re-embarked on the "Run" to cross the fiord of the
Hardanger, and if nothing unforeseen occurred he counted on reaching
the Telemark by the evening of the 5th.

Chapter XIV
*

The day that Sylvius Hogg left Bergen proved an eventful one at the
inn.

After the professor's departure the house seemed deserted. It almost
seemed as if the kind friend of the young Hansens had taken away with
him, not only the last hope, but the life of the family, and left only
a charnel-house behind him.

During the two days that followed no guests presented themselves at
the inn. Joel had no occasion to absent himself, consequently, but
could remain with Hulda, whom he was very unwilling to leave alone
with her own thoughts.

Dame Hansen seemed to become more and more a prey to secret anxiety.
She seemed to feel no interest in anything connected with her
children, not even in the loss of the "Viking." She lived a life
apart, remaining shut up in her own room, and appearing only at
meal-time. When she did address a word to Hulda or Joel it was only
to reproach them directly or indirectly on the subject of the
lottery-ticket, which neither of them felt willing to dispose of
at any price. Offers for the ticket continued to pour in from every
corner of the globe. A positive mania seemed to have seized certain
brains. Such a ticket must certainly be predestined to win the prize
of one hundred thousand marks—there could be no doubt of it, so said
every one. A person would have supposed there was but one ticket in
the lottery, and that the number of it was 9672. The Manchester man
and the Bostonian were still at the head of the list. The Englishman
had outbid his rival by a few pounds, but he, in turn, was soon
distanced by an advance of several hundred dollars. The last bid was
one of eight thousand marks—and it could be explained only as the
result of positive madness, unless it was a question of national pride
on this part of an American and an Englishman.

However this may have been Hulda refused all these offers, and her
conduct excited the bitter disapproval of Dame Hansen.

"What if I should order you to sell this ticket? Yes, order you to
sell it," she said to her daughter one day.

"I should be very sorry, mother, but I should be obliged to refuse."

"But if it should become absolutely necessary, what then?"

"But how can that be possible?" asked Joel.

Dame Hansen made no reply. She had turned very pale on hearing this
straightforward question, and now withdrew, muttering some incoherent
words.

"There is certainly something wrong," remarked Joel. "There must be
some difficulty between mother and Sandgoist."

"Yes, brother, we must be prepared for some serious complications in
the future."

"Have we not suffered enough during the past few weeks, my poor Hulda?
What fresh catastrophe threatens us?"

"How long Monsieur Sylvius stays!" exclaimed Hulda, without paying
any apparent heed to the question. "When he is here I feel less
despondent."

"And yet, what can he do for us?" replied Joel.

What could there have been in Dame Hansen's past that she was
unwilling to confide to her children? What foolish pride prevented her
from revealing to them the cause of her disquietude? Had she any real
cause to reproach herself? And on the other hand, why did she endeavor
to influence her daughter in regard to Ole Kamp's ticket, and the
price that was to be set upon it? Why did she seem so eager to dispose
of it, or rather, to secure the money that had been offered for it?
Hulda and Joel were about to learn.

On the morning of the 4th Joel escorted his sister to the little
chapel where she went every morning to pray for the lost one. Her
brother always waited for her, and accompanied her back to the house.

That day, on returning, they both perceived Dame Hansen in the
distance, walking rapidly in the direction of the inn. She was not
alone. A man was walking beside her—a man who seemed to be talking in
a loud voice, and whose gestures were vehement and imperious.

Hulda and her brother both paused suddenly.

"Who is that man?" inquired Joel.

Hulda advanced a few steps.

"I know him," she said at last.

"You know him?"

"Yes, it is Sandgoist."

"Sandgoist, of Drammen, who came here during my absence?"

"Yes."

"And who acted in such a lordly way that he would seem to have mother,
and us, too, perhaps, in his power?"

"The same, brother; and he has probably come to make us feel his power
to-day."

"What power? This time I will know the object of his visit."

Joel controlled himself, though not without an evident effort, and
followed his sister.

In a few moments Dame Hansen and Sandgoist reached the door of the
inn. Sandgoist crossed the threshold first; then the door closed upon
Dame Hansen and upon him, and both of them entered the large parlor.

As Joel and Hulda approached the house the threatening voice of
Sandgoist became distinctly audible. They paused and listened; Dame
Hansen was speaking now, but in entreating tones.

"Let us go in," remarked Joel.

Hulda entered with a heavy heart; Joel was trembling with suppressed
anger and impatience.

Sandgoist sat enthroned in the big arm-chair. 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 arm-chair, 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."

Sandgoist seemed to be doing the honors of his own house, and Joel
instantly noted the fact.

"Ah, ha! you are displeased! What a touchy young man you seem to be!"

"I am not particularly touchy that I know of, but I don't feel
inclined to accept civilities from those who have no right to offer
them."

"Joel!" cried Dame Hansen.

"Brother, brother!" exclaimed Hulda, with an imploring look.

Joel made a violent effort to control himself, and to prevent himself
from yielding to his desire to throw this coarse wretch out of the
window, he retired to a corner of the room.

"Can I speak now?" inquired Sandgoist.

An affirmative sign from Dame Hansen was all the answer he obtained,
but it seemed to be sufficient.

"What I have to say is this," he began, "and I would like all three of
you to listen attentively, for I don't fancy being obliged to repeat
my words."

That he spoke like a person who had an indisputable right to his own
way was only too evident to each and every member of the party.

"I have learned through the newspapers," he continued, "of the
misfortune which has befallen a certain Ole Kamp—a young seaman of
Bergen—and of a lottery-ticket that he bequeathed to his betrothed,
Hulda Hansen, just as his ship, the 'Viking,' was going down. I have
also learned that the public at large feels convinced that this will
prove the fortunate ticket by reason of the peculiar circumstances
under which it was found. I have also learned that some very liberal
offers for the purchase of this ticket have been received by Hulda
Hansen."

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