“Very well, Mr. Sylvius.  But wouldn’t you like me to accompany you further?”

The professor shook his head, with a meaning glance at Hulda, for he did not want to see her separated from her brother.

Just then a sound, which was as yet scarcely audible, was heard on the road in the direction of Moel.  They all listened breathlessly.  Soon all doubts vanished.  It was the sound of an approaching kariol coming swiftly toward Dal.  Was the occupant some traveler who intended to spend the night at the inn?  This was scarcely probable, as tourists rarely arrived at so late an hour.

Hulda sprung up trembling in every limb.  Joel went to the door, opened it and looked out.

The noise grew louder It was certain the clatter of horse’s hoofs blended with, the roll of kariol wheels; but the storm without was so violent that Joel was obliged to close the door.

Sylvius Hogg tramped up and down the room in a perfect fever of impatience.  Joel and his sister held each other tightly by the hand.

The kariol could not be more than twenty yards from the house now.  Would it pause or go by?

The hearts of all three throbbed to suffocation.

The kariol stopped.  They heard a voice calling; but it was not the voice of Ole Kamp!

Almost immediately some one rapped at the door.

Joel opened it.

A man stood upon the threshold.

“Is Mr. Sylvius Hogg here?” he asked.

“I am he,” replied the professor.  “Who are you, my friend?”

“A messenger sent to you by the Secretary of the Navy at Christiania.”

“Have you a letter for me?”

“Yes, sir; here it is.”

And the messenger handed him a large envelope sealed with the Government seal.

Hulda’s limbs tottered under her, and her brother sprung forward and placed her in a chair.  Neither of them dared to ask Sylvius Hogg to open the letter.

At last he broke the seal and read the following: 

“MR. PROFESSOR,—­In reply to your last letter, I inclose a paper picked up at sea on the 3d instant by a Danish vessel.  Unfortunately this discovery dispels any lingering doubt as to the fate of the ’Viking’—­”

Sylvius Hogg, without taking time to read the rest of the letter, drew the paper from the envelope.  He looked at it; he turned it over.

It was a lottery ticket bearing the number 9672.

On the other side of the ticket were the following lines: 

“May 3d.

“DEAREST HULDA,—­The ‘Viking’ is going down.  I have only this ticket left of all I hoped to bring back to you.  I intrust it to God’s hands, hoping that it may reach you safely; and as I shall not be there, I beseech you to be present at the drawing.  Accept the ticket with my last thought of you.  Hulda, do not forget me in your prayers.  Farewell, my beloved, farewell!

“OLE KAMP.”