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Ticket No. 9672

By Jules Verne.

Translated by Laura E. Kendall.

Table of Contents Titlepage Imprint I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII XIII XIV XV XVI XVII XVIII XIX XX Colophon Uncopyright Imprint

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I

โ€œWhat time is it?โ€ inquired Dame Hansen, shaking the ashes from her pipe, the last curling rings from which were slowly disappearing between the stained rafters overhead.

โ€œEight oโ€™clock, mother,โ€ replied Hulda.

โ€œIt isnโ€™t likely that any travelers will come tonight. The weather is too stormy.โ€

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

โ€œHas your brother returned?โ€

โ€œNot yet.โ€

โ€œDidnโ€™t he say he would be back tonight?โ€

โ€œNo, mother. Joel went to take a traveler to Lake Tinn, and as he didnโ€™t start until very late, I do not think he can get back to Dal before tomorrow.โ€

โ€œThen he will spend the night at Moel, probably.โ€

โ€œYes; unless he should take it into his head to go on to Bamble to see Farmer Helmboe.โ€

โ€œAnd his daughter Siegfrid.โ€

โ€œYes. Siegfrid, my best friend, whom I love like a sister!โ€ replied the young girl, smiling.

โ€œAll, well, Hulda, shut up the house, and letโ€™s go to bed.โ€

โ€œYou are not ill, are you, mother?โ€

โ€œNo; but I want to be up bright and early tomorrow morning. I must go to Moel.โ€

โ€œWhat for?โ€

โ€œWhy, we must be laying in our stock of provisions for the coming summer, andโ โ€”โ€

โ€œAnd I suppose the agent from Christiania has come down with his wagon of wines and provisions.โ€

โ€œYes; Lengling, the foreman at the sawmill, met him this afternoon, and informed me of the fact as he passed. We have very little left in the way of ham and smoked salmon, and I donโ€™t want to run any risk of being caught with an empty larder. Tourists are likely to begin their excursions to the Telemark almost any day now; especially, if the weather should become settled, and our establishment must be in a condition to receive them. Do you realize that this is the fifteenth of April?โ€

โ€œThe fifteenth of April!โ€ repeated the young girl, thoughtfully.

โ€œYes, so tomorrow I must attend to these matters,โ€ continued Dame Hansen. โ€œI can make all my purchases in two hours, and I will return with Joel in the karjol.โ€

โ€œIn case you should meet the postman, donโ€™t forget to ask him if there is a letter for usโ โ€”โ€

โ€œAnd especially for you. That is quite likely, for it is a month since you heard from Ole.โ€

โ€œYes, a monthโ โ€”a whole month.โ€

โ€œStill, you should not worry, child. The delay is not at all surprising. Besides, if the Moel postman has nothing for you, that which didnโ€™t come by the way of Christiania may come by the way of Bergen, may it not?โ€

โ€œYes, mother,โ€ replied Hulda. โ€œBut how can I help worrying, when I think how far it is from here to the Newfoundland fishing banks. The whole broad Atlantic to cross, while the weather continues so bad. It is almost a year since my poor Ole left me, and who can say when we shall see him again in Dal?โ€

โ€œAnd whether we shall be here when he returns,โ€ sighed Dame Hansen, but so softly that her daughter did not hear the words.

Hulda went to close the front door of the inn which stood on the Vesfjorddal road; but she did not take the trouble to turn the key in the lock. In hospitable Norway, such precautions are unnecessary. It is customary for travelers to enter these country inns either by night or by day without calling anyone to open the door; and even the loneliest habitations are safe from the depredations of thieves or assassins, for no criminal attempts against life or property ever disturb the peace of this primitive land.

The mother and daughter occupied two front rooms on the second story of the innโ โ€”two neat and airy, though plainly furnished rooms. Above them, directly under the sloping roof, was Joelโ€™s chamber, lighted by a window encased in a tastefully carved framework of pine.

From this window, the eye, after roaming over the grand mountain horizon, returned with delight to the narrow valley through which flowed the Maan, which is half river, half torrent.

A wooden staircase, with heavy balusters and highly polished steps, led from the lower hall to the floors above, and nothing could be more neat and attractive than the whole aspect of this establishment, in which the travelers found a comfort that is rare in Norwegian inns.

Hulda and her mother were in the habit of retiring early when they were alone, and Dame Hansen had already lighted her candle, and was on her way upstairs, when a loud knocking at the door made them both start.

โ€œDame Hansen! Dame Hansen!โ€ cried a voice.

Dame Hansen paused on the stairs.

โ€œWho can have come so late?โ€ she exclaimed.

โ€œCan it be that Joel has met with an accident?โ€ returned Hulda, quickly.

And she hastened toward the door.

She found

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