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The sacrifice she had made was not one of more or less probable chance, but of Ole Kamp's last wishes and of her last memento of her lover. But it was too late to think of this now. Sandgoist had the ticket. It belonged to him, and he would sell it to the highest bidder. A heartless usurer would thus coin money out of the touching farewell of the shipwrecked mariner.
He walked in to see the landlord. "What are the Van Kamps paying you for those three rooms?" he asked. "Fifteen dollars," Uncle Billy informed him, smoking one of Mr. Van Kamp's good cigars and twiddling his thumbs in huge content. "I'll give you thirty for them. Just set their baggage outside and tell them the rooms are occupied." "No sir-ree!" rejoined Uncle Billy.
The bottle containing Ole Kamp's lottery-ticket had been picked up on the third of June, about two hundred miles south of Iceland, by the schooner "Christian," of Elsineur, Captain Mosselman, and the wind was blowing strong from the south-east at the time.
Neither of them had much to say about their mother, whose cold and preoccupied manner had not escaped Sylvius Hogg's notice, and from a feeling of prudence they hesitated to reveal to their guest the uneasiness excited by Ole Kamp's delay, for might they not impair his good humor by telling him their troubles?
This was the name that burst from every lip. Yes, it was Hulda, so deeply agitated that she could hardly walk. Indeed, she certainly would have fallen had it not been for Sylvius Hogg's supporting arm. But it upheld her firmly her, the modest, heart-broken little heroine of the fête to which Ole Kamp's presence only was wanting.
After she recovered consciousness she asked to be left alone for awhile, and she was now kneeling by her bedside, praying for Ole Kamp's soul. Dame Hansen returned to the hall. At first she started toward the professor, as if with the intention of speaking to him, then suddenly turning toward the staircase, she disappeared. Joel, on returning from his sister's room, had hastily left the house.
"They say that nobody will buy Ole Kamp's ticket of him, now he has got it." "No; nobody wants it now." "That is not at all surprising. In Hulda Hansen's hands the ticket was valuable." "And in Sandgoist's it seems worthless." "I'm glad of it. He'll have it left on his hands, and I hope he'll lose the fifteen thousand marks it cost him." "But what if the scoundrel should win the grand prize?"
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?
"It is not my wish, Monsieur Benett, but that of Ole Kamp, and I say to you as I have said to others, Ole Kamp's last wishes would be obeyed." "Unquestionably. What you do is not only right, but always for the best, professor." "You are flattering me now, dear Monsieur Benett." "Not at all. But it was a lucky day for them when the Hansen family made your acquaintance."
Of course he had not failed to notice the children's constrained manner toward their mother, and he felt satisfied that the reserve the parent displayed had its origin in something besides the uneasiness she felt on Ole Kamp's account. He thought he might venture to question Joel; but the latter was unable to give any satisfactory reply.
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