What a crowd filled the large hall of the University of Christiana in
which the drawing of the great lottery was to take place--a crowd that
overflowed into the very court-yards, as even the immense building
was not large enough to accommodate such a throng, and even into the
adjoining streets, as the court-yards, too, proved inadequate toward
the last.
On that Sunday, the 15th of July, it certainly was not by their
calmness and phlegm that one would have recognized these madly excited
people as Norwegians. Was this unwonted excitement due solely to
the interest excited by this drawing, or was it due, at least, in a
measure, to the unusually high temperature of the summer's day?
The drawing was to begin at three o'clock precisely. There were one
hundred prizes--divided into three classes: 1st, ninety prizes ranging
in value from one hundred to one thousand marks, and amounting in all
to forty-five thousand marks; 2d, nine prizes of from one thousand to
nine thousand marks, and amounting to forty-five thousand marks, and
3d, one prize of one hundred thousand marks.
Contrary to the rule that is generally observed in lotteries of this
kind, the drawing of the grand prize was reserved for the last. It was
not to the holder of the first ticket drawn that the grand prize would
be given, but to the last, that is to say, the one hundredth. Hence,
there would result a series of emotions and heart-throbbings of
constantly increasing violence, for it had been decided that no ticket
should be entitled to two prizes, but that having gained one prize,
the drawing should be considered null and void if the same number were
taken from the urns a second time.
All this was known to the public, and there was nothing for people
to do but await the appointed hour; but to while away the tedious
interval of waiting they all talked, and, chiefly, of the pathetic
situation of Hulda Hansen. Unquestionably, if she had still been the
possessor of Ole Kamp's ticket each individual present would have
wished her the next best luck to himself.
Several persons having seen the dispatch published in the
"Morgen-Blad," spoke of it to their neighbors, and the entire crowd
soon became aware that the search of the "Telegraph" had proved
futile. This being the case all felt that there was no longer any hope
of finding even a vestige of the lost "Viking." Not one of the crew
could have survived the shipwreck, and Hulda would never see her lover
again.
Suddenly another report diverted the minds of the crowd. It was
rumored that Sandgoist had decided to leave Drammen, and several
persons pretended that they had seen him in the streets of
Christiania. Could it be that he had ventured into this hall? If
he had the wretch would certainly meet with a most unflattering
reception. How audacious in him to think of such a thing as being
present at this drawing! It was so improbable that it could not be
possible. It must certainly be a false alarm, and nothing more.
About quarter past two quite a commotion was apparent in the crowd.
It was caused by the sudden appearance of Sylvius Hogg at the gate of
the University. Every one knew the prominent part he had taken in the
whole affair, and how, after having been received by Dame Hansen's
children, he had endeavored to repay the obligation, so the crowd
instantly divided to make way for him, and there arose from every
side a flattering murmur, which Sylvius acknowledged by a series of
friendly bows, and this murmur soon changed into hearty applause.
But the professor was not alone. When those nearest him stepped back
to make way for him they saw that he had a young girl on his arm, and
that a young man was following them.
A young man! a young girl! The discovery had very much the effect of
an electric shock. The same thought flashed through every mind like a
spark from an electric battery.
"Hulda! Hulda Hansen!"
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. How greatly she would have preferred to remain in
her own little room at Dal! How she shrunk from this curiosity on the
part of those around her, sympathizing though it was! But Sylvius Hogg
had wished her to come, and she had done so.
"Room! room!" was heard on all sides.
And as Sylvius Hogg, and Hulda and Joel walked up the passage-way that
had been cleared for them, as if by magic, how many friendly hands
were outstretched to grasp theirs, how many kind and cordial words
were lavished upon them, and with what delight Sylvius Hogg listened
to these expressions of friendly feeling!
"Yes; it is she, my friends, my little Hulda, whom I have brought back
with me from Dal," said he. "And this is Joel, her noble brother; but
pray, my good friends, do not smother them!"
Though Joel returned every grasp with interest, the less vigorous
hands of the professor were fairly benumbed by such constant shaking,
but his eyes sparkled with joy, though a tear was stealing down his
cheek; but--and the phenomenon was certainly well worthy the attention
of ophthalmologists--the tear was a luminous one.
It took them fully a quarter of an hour to cross the court-yard, gain
the main hall, and reach the seats that had been reserved for
the professor. When this was at last accomplished, not without
considerable difficulty, Sylvius Hogg seated himself between Hulda and
Joel.
At precisely half past two o'clock, the door at the rear of the
platform opened, and the president of the lottery appeared, calm
and dignified, and with the commanding mien befitting his exalted
position. Two directors followed, bearing themselves with equal
dignity. Then came six little blue-eyed girls, decked out in flowers
and ribbons, six little girls whose innocent hands were to draw the
lottery.
Their entrance was greeted with a burst of loud applause that
testified both to the pleasure all experienced on beholding the
managers of the Christiania Lottery, and to the impatience with which
the crowd was awaiting the beginning of the drawing.
There were six little girls, as we have remarked before, and there
were also six urns upon a table that occupied the middle of the
platform. Each of these urns contained ten numbers: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6,
7, 8, 9, 0, representing the units, tens, hundreds, thousands, tens of
thousands, and hundreds of thousands of the number one million. There
was no seventh urn, for the million column, because it had been agreed
that six ciphers drawn simultaneously should represent one million, as
in this way the chances of success would be equally divided among all
the numbers.
It had also been settled that the numbers should be drawn in
succession from the urns, beginning with that to the left of the
audience. The winning number would thus be formed under the very eyes
of the spectators, first by the figure in the column of hundreds of
thousands, then in the columns of tens of thousands, and so on until
the column of units was reached, and the reader can judge with what
emotion each person watched his chances of success increase with the
drawing of each figure.
As the clock struck three, the president waved his hand, and declared
the drawing begun.
The prolonged murmur that greeted the announcement lasted several
minutes, after which quiet was gradually established.
The president rose, and though evidently much excited, made a short
speech suited to the occasion, in which he expressed regret that there
was not a prize for each ticket-holder; then he ordered the drawing
of the first series of prizes, which consisted, as we have before
remarked, of ninety prizes, and which would therefore consume a
considerable length of time.
The six little girls began to perform their duties with automaton-like
regularity, but the audience did not lose patience for an instant. It
is true, however, that as the value of the prizes increased with each
drawing, the excitement increased proportionately, and no one thought
of leaving his seat, not even those persons whose tickets had been
already drawn, and who had consequently nothing more to expect.
This went on for about an hour without producing any incident of
particular interest, though people noticed that number 9672 had not
been drawn, which would have taken away all chance of its winning the
capital prize.
"That is a good omen for Sandgoist!" remarked one of the professor's
neighbors.
"It would certainly be an extraordinary thing if a man like that
should meet with such a piece of good luck, even though he has the
famous ticket," remarked another.
"A famous ticket, indeed!" replied Sylvius Hogg; "but don't ask me
why, for I can't possibly tell you."
Then began the drawing of the second series of prizes, nine in number.
This promised to be very interesting--the ninety-first prize being one
of a thousand marks; the ninety-second, one of two thousand marks,
and so on, up to the ninety-ninth, which was one of nine thousand. The
third class, the reader must recollect, consisted of the capital prize
only.
Number 72,521 won a prize of five thousand marks. This ticket belonged
to a worthy seaman of Christiania, who was loudly cheered and who
received with great dignity the congratulations lavished upon him.
Another number, 823,752, won a prize of six thousand marks, and how
great was Sylvius Hogg's delight when he learned from Joel that it
belonged to the charming Siegfrid of Bamble.
An incident that caused no little excitement followed. When the
ninety-seventh prize was drawn, the one consisting of seven thousand
marks, the audience feared for a moment that Sandgoist was the winner
of it. It was won, however, by ticket number 9627, which was within
only forty-five points of Ole Kamp's number.
The two drawings that followed were numbers very widely removed from
each other: 775 and 76,287.
The second series was now concluded, and the great prize of one
hundred thousand marks alone remained to be drawn.
The excitement of the assemblage at that moment beggars all
description.
At first there was a long murmur that extended from the large hall
into the court-yards and even into the street. In fact, several
minutes elapsed before quiet was restored. A profound silence
followed, and in this calmness there was a certain amount of
stupor--the stupor one experiences on seeing a prisoner appear upon
the place of execution. But this time the still unknown victim was
only condemned to win a prize of one hundred thousand marks, not to
lose his head; that is, unless he lost it from ecstasy.
Joel sat with folded arms, gazing straight ahead of him, being the
least moved, probably, in all that large assembly. Hulda, her head
bowed upon her breast, was thinking only of her poor Ole. As for
Sylvius Hogg--but any attempt to describe the state of mind in which
Sylvius Hogg found himself would be worse than useless.
"We will now conclude with the drawing of the one hundred thousand
mark prize," announced the president.
What a voice! It seemed to proceed from the inmost depths of this
solemn-looking man, probably because he was the owner of several
tickets which, not having yet been drawn, might still win the capital
prize.
The first little girl drew a number from the left urn, and exhibited
it to the audience.
"Zero!" said the president.
The zero did not create much of a sensation, however. The audience
somehow seemed to have been expecting it.
"Zero!" said the president, announcing the figure drawn by the second
little girl.
Two zeros. The chances were evidently increasing for all numbers
between one and nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine, and every
one recollected that Ole Kamp's ticket bore the number 9672.
Strange to say, Sylvius Hogg began to move restlessly about in his
chair, as if he had suddenly been stricken with palsy.
"Nine," said the president, stating the number the third little girl
had just extracted from the third urn.
Nine! That was the first figure on Ole Kamp's ticket.
"Six!" said the president.
For the fourth little girl was timidly displaying a six to all the
eyes riveted upon her.
The chances of winning were now one out of a hundred for all the
numbers from one to ninety-nine, inclusive.
Could it be that this ticket of Ole Kamp's was to be the means of
placing one hundred thousand marks in that villainous Sandgoist's
pocket. Really such a result would almost make one doubt the justice
of God!
The fifth little girl plunged her hand into the next urn, and drew out
the fifth figure.
"Seven!" said the president, in a voice that trembled so as to be
scarcely audible, even to those seated on the first row of benches.
But those who could not hear were able to see for themselves, for the
five little girls were now holding up the following figures to the
gaze of the audience:
00967.
The winning number consequently must be one between 9670 and 9679, so
there was now one chance out of ten for Ole Kamp's ticket to win the
prize.
The suspense was at its height.
Sylvius Hogg had risen to his feet, and seized Hulda Hansen's hand.
Every eye was riveted upon the young girl. In sacrificing this last
momento of her betrothed, had she also sacrificed the fortune Ole Kamp
had coveted for her and for himself?
The sixth little girl had some difficulty getting her hand into
the urn, she was trembling so, poor thing! but at last the figure
appeared.
"Two!" exclaimed the president, sinking back in his chair, quite
breathless with emotion.
"Nine thousand six hundred and seventy two!" proclaimed one of the
directors, in a loud voice.
This was the number of Ole Kamp's ticket, now in Sandgoist's
possession. Everybody was aware of this fact, and of the manner in
which the usurer had obtained it; so there was a profound silence
instead of the tumultuous applause that would have filled the hall of
the University if the ticket had still been in Hulda Hansen's hands.
And now was this scoundrel Sandgoist about to step forward, ticket in
hand, to claim the prize?
"Number 9672 wins the prize of one hundred thousand marks!" repeated
the director. "Who claims it?"
"I do."
Was it the usurer of Drammen who answered thus?
No. It was a young man--a young man with a pale face, whose features
and whole person bore marks of prolonged suffering, but alive, really
and truly alive.
On hearing this voice, Hulda sprung to her feet, uttering a cry that
penetrated every nook and corner of the large hall; then she fell back
fainting.
But the young man had forced his way impetuously through the crowd,
and it was he who caught the unconscious girl in his arms.
It was Ole Kamp!