Ticket No. 9672 by Jules Verne (the best e book reader txt) 📕

“Yes, in Dal, with a game leg.”

“Fortunately you are at Dame Hansen’s inn, where you will have the best of food and care.”

“Could one imagine a more comfortable place?”

“Most assuredly not.”

“Or better people?”

“There are none in the world,” responded the young travelers merrily.

Then they would all drink to the health of Hulda and Joel, who were so well known throughout the Telemark.

And then the professor would tell them all about his adventure, frankly admitting his unpardonable imprudence, and telling how his life had been saved, and how grateful he felt to his preservers.

“And I shall remain here until I have paid my debt,” he would add. “My course of lectures on legislation will not be resumed for a long time, I fear, and you can enjoy an extended holiday.”

“Good! good! Mister Sylvius,” cried the lighthearted band. “Oh, you can’t fool us! It is pretty Hulda that keeps you here at Dal.”

“A sweet girl she is, my friends, and as pretty as a picture, besides; and by Saint Olaf! I’m only sixty.”

“Here’s to the health of Mister Sylvius!”

“And to yours, my dear boys. Roam about the country, gather wisdom, and yet be merry. Life is all sunshine at your age. But keep away from the Maristien. Joel and Hulda may not be on hand to rescue such of you as are imprudent enough to venture there.”

Then they would resume their journey, making the whole valley ring with their joyful God-aften.

Once or twice Joel was obliged to act as guide to some tourists who wished to make the ascent of Gousta. Sylvius Hogg was anxious to accompany them. He declared that he was all right again. In fact, the wound on his leg was nearly healed; but Hulda positively forbade him to undertake a trip which would certainly prove too fatiguing for him, and Hulda’s word was law.

A wonderful mountain, though, is this Gousta, whose lofty summit traversed by deep snow-covered ravines, rises out of a forest of pines that form a thick green ruff about its snowy throat! And what a superb view one enjoys from its summit. To the east lies the bailiwick of Numedal; on the west, the Hardanger and its magnificent glaciers; down at the base of the mountain, the winding valley of Vesfjorddal between Lakes Tinn and Mjos, Dal, and its miniature houses, and the bright waters of the Maan leaping and dancing merrily along through the verdant meadows to the music of its own voice.

To make the ascent Joel was obliged to leave Dal at five o’clock in the morning. He usually returned about six o’clock in the evening, and Sylvius Hogg and Hulda always went to meet him. As soon as the primitive ferryboat landed the tourists and their guide a cordial greeting ensued, and the three spent yet another pleasant evening together. The professor still limped a little, but he did not complain. Indeed, one might almost have fancied that he was in no haste to be cured, or rather to leave Dame Hansen’s hospitable roof.

The time certainly passed swiftly and pleasantly there. He had written to Christiania that he should probably spend some time at Dal. The story of his adventure at the Rjukanfos was known throughout the country. The newspapers had got hold of it, and embellished the account after their fashion, so a host of letters came to the inn, to say nothing of pamphlets and newspapers. All these had to be read and answered, and the names of Joel and Hulda which were necessarily mentioned in the correspondence, soon became known throughout Norway.

Nevertheless, this sojourn at Dame Hansen’s inn could not be prolonged indefinitely, though Sylvius Hogg was still as much in doubt as ever, in regard to the manner in which he should pay his debt of gratitude. Of late, however, he had begun to suspect that this family was not as happy as he had at first supposed. The impatience with which the brother and sister awaited the arrival of the daily mail from Christiania and Bergen, their disappointment and even chagrin on finding no letters for them, all this was only too significant.

It was already the ninth of June, and still no news from the Viking! The vessel was now more than a fortnight overdue, and not a single line from Ole! No news to assuage Hulda’s anxiety. The poor girl was beginning to despair, and Sylvius Hogg saw that her eyes were red with weeping when he met her in the morning.

“What can be the matter?” he said to himself, more than once. “They seem to be concealing some misfortunes from me. Is it a family secret, I wonder, with which a stranger cannot be allowed to meddle? But do they still regard me as a stranger? No. Still, they must think so; but when I announce my departure they will perhaps understand that it is a true friend who is about to leave them.”

So that very day he remarked:

“My friends, the hour is fast approaching when, to my great regret, I shall be obliged to bid you goodbye.”

“So soon, Mister Sylvius, so soon?” exclaimed Joel, with a dismay he could not conceal.

“The time has passed very quickly in your company, but it is now seventeen days since I came to Dal.”

“What! seventeen days!” repeated Hulda.

“Yes, my dear child, and the end of my vacation is approaching. I have only a week at my disposal if I should extend my journey to Drammen and Kongsberg. And though the Storthing is indebted to you for not being obliged to elect another deputy in my place, the Storthing will know no better how to compensate you than I do.”

“Oh! Mister Sylvius,” cried Hulda, placing her little hand upon his lips to silence him.

“Oh, I understand, Hulda. That is a forbidden subject, at least here.”

“Here and everywhere,” replied the girl, gayly.

“So be it! I am not my own master, and I must obey. But you and Joel must come and