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The Floating Press - Jules Verne

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135 pages

English

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The author of a stunning array of well-loved fantasy and adventure novels, including A Journey to the Center of the Earth, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, Around the World in Eighty Days and The Mysterious Island, Jules Verne is recognized as one of the most important figures in the development of the science fiction genre. Also published as The Lottery Ticket, this tale is an engaging adventure story that will enthrall readers young and old.

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Adventure (Guyana)

Adventure

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Publié par	The Floating Press
Date de parution	01 novembre 2010
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781775419815
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0134€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

TICKET NO. 9672
* * *
JULES VERNE
Translated by
LAURA E. KENDALL

*

Ticket No. 9672 First published in 1886 ISBN 978-1-775419-81-5 © 2010 The Floating Press
While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike.
Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
*
Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI Chapter XII Chapter XIII Chapter XIV Chapter XV Chapter XVI Chapter XVII Chapter XVIII Chapter XIX Chapter XX
Chapter I
*
"What time is it?" inquired Dame Hansen, shaking the ashes from herpipe, the last curling rings from which were slowly disappearingbetween the stained rafters overhead.
"Eight o'clock, mother," replied Hulda.
"It isn't likely that any travelers will come to-night. The weather istoo stormy."
"I agree with you. At all events, the rooms are in readiness, and ifany one comes, I shall be sure to hear them."
"Has your brother returned?"
"Not yet."
"Didn't he say he would be back to-night?"
"No, mother. Joel went to take a traveler to Lake Tinn, and as hedidn't start until very late, I do not think he can get back to Dalbefore to-morrow."
"Then he will spend the night at Moel, probably."
"Yes; unless he should take it into his head to go on to Bamble to seeFarmer Helmboe."
"And his daughter Siegfrid."
"Yes. Siegfrid, my best friend, whom I love like a sister!" repliedthe young girl, smiling.
"All, well, Hulda, shut up the house, and let's go to bed."
"You are not ill, are you, mother?"
"No; but I want to be up bright and early to-morrow morning. I must goto Moel."
"What for?"
"Why, we must be laying in our stock of provisions for the comingsummer, and—"
"And I suppose the agent from Christiania has come down with his wagonof wines and provisions."
"Yes; Lengling, the foreman at the saw-mill, met him this afternoon,and informed me of the fact as he passed. We have very little left inthe way of ham and smoked salmon, and I don't want to run any risk ofbeing caught with an empty larder. Tourists are likely to begin theirexcursions to the Telemark almost any day now; especially, if theweather should become settled, and our establishment must be in acondition to receive them. Do you realize that this is the fifteenthof April?"
"The fifteenth of April!" repeated the young girl, thoughtfully.
"Yes, so to-morrow I must attend to these matters," continued DameHansen. "I can make all my purchases in two hours, and I will returnwith Joel in the kariol."
"In case you should meet the postman, don't forget to ask him if thereis a letter for us—"
"And especially for you. That is quite likely, for it is a month sinceyou heard from Ole."
"Yes, a month—a whole month."
"Still, you should not worry, child. The delay is not at allsurprising. Besides, if the Moel postman has nothing for you, thatwhich didn't come by the way of Christiania may come by the way ofBergen, may it not?"
"Yes, mother," replied Hulda. "But how can I help worrying, when Ithink how far it is from here to the Newfoundland fishing banks. Thewhole broad Atlantic to cross, while the weather continues so bad. Itis almost a year since my poor Ole left me, and who can say when weshall see him again in Dal?"
"And whether we shall be here when he returns," 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 theVesfjorddal road; but she did not take the trouble to turn the key inthe lock. In hospitable Norway, such precautions are unnecessary. Itis customary for travelers to enter these country inns either bynight or by day without calling any one to open the door; and eventhe loneliest habitations are safe from the depredations of thievesor assassins, for no criminal attempts against life or property everdisturb the peace of this primitive land.
The mother and daughter occupied two front rooms on the second storyof the inn—two neat and airy, though plainly furnished rooms. Abovethem, directly under the sloping roof, was Joel's chamber, lighted bya window incased in a tastefully carved frame-work of pine.
From this window, the eye, after roaming over the grand mountainhorizon, returned with delight to the narrow valley through whichflowed 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 moreneat and attractive than the whole aspect of this establishment, inwhich the travelers found a comfort that is rare in Norwegian inns.
Hulda and her mother were in the habit of retiring early when theywere alone, and Dame Hansen had already lighted her candle, and wason her way upstairs, when a loud knocking at the door made them bothstart.
"Dame Hansen! Dame Hansen!" cried a voice.
Dame Hansen paused on the stairs.
"Who can have come so late?" she exclaimed.
"Can it be that Joel has met with an accident?" returned Hulda,quickly.
And she hastened toward the door.
She found a lad there—one of the young rascals known as skydskarls ,that make a living by clinging to the back of kariols, and taking thehorse back when the journey is ended.
"What do you want here at this hour?" asked Hulda.
"First of all to bid you good-evening," replied the boy,mischievously.
"Is that all?"
"No; that isn't all; but a boy oughtn't to forget his manners, oughthe?"
"You are right. But who sent you?"
"Your brother Joel."
"And what for?" asked Dame Hansen, advancing to the door with theslow and measured tread that is a characteristic of the inhabitants ofNorway. There is quicksilver in the veins of their soil, but little ornone in the veins of their bodies.
The reply had evidently caused the mother some anxiety, however, forshe added hastily:
"Has anything happened to my son?"
"No, but the Christiania postman gave him a letter, and—"
"A letter from Drammen?" repeated Dame Hansen, in a lower tone.
"I don't know about that," replied the youth. "All I do know is, thatJoel can't get home before to-morrow, and he sent me here to deliverthe letter."
"It is important then?"
"I should judge so."
"Hand it here," said Dame Hansen, in a tone that betrayed keenanxiety.
"Here it is, clean and not wrinkled in the least. But the letter isnot for you."
Dame Hansen seemed to breathe more freely.
"Then who is it for?" she asked.
"For your daughter."
"For me!" cried Hulda. "It is a letter from Ole! I am sure it is—aletter that came by way of Christiania. My brother did not want me tobe kept waiting."
Hulda had snatched the letter from the boy's hand, and now takingit to the table upon which her mother had deposited the candle, sheexamined the address.
"Yes, it is from him. It is certainly from him! Heaven grant that hewrites to announce the speedy return of the 'Viking'!"
"Won't you come in?" said Dame Hansen, turning to the boy.
"Only for a minute. I must get back home to-night, for I am to go witha kariol to-morrow morning."
"Very well. Tell Joel, from me, that I expect to go to Moel to-morrow,and that he must wait for me there."
"To-morrow evening?"
"No; to-morrow morning, and he must not leave Moel until he sees me.We will return to Dal together."
"Very well, Dame Hansen."
"Won't you take a drop of brandevin ?"
"With pleasure."
The boy approached the table, and Dame Hansen handed him a glass ofthe beverage which is such a powerful protection against the eveningfogs. It is needless to say that he drained the glass, then,
" God-aften! " he said.
" God-aften , my son!"
This is the Norwegian good-night. It was simply spoken, without evenan inclination of the head, and the lad instantly departed, withoutseeming to mind in the least the long walk that he had before him. Thesound of his footsteps soon died away beneath the trees that borderthe swiftly flowing river.
Hulda still stood gazing at Ole's letter. Think of it! This frailenvelope must have crossed the broad ocean to reach her, the broadocean in which the rivers of western Norway lose themselves. Sheexamined the different postmarks. Though mailed on the 15th of March,the missive had not reached Dal until the 15th of April. Why! a monthhad already elapsed since the letter was written! How many thingsmight have happened in a month on the shores of Newfoundland! Was itnot still winter, the dangerous season of equinoxes? Are not thesefishing banks the most dangerous in the world, swept by terrible galesfrom the North Pole? A perilous and arduous vocation was this businessof fishing which Ole followed! And if he followed it was it not thatshe, his betrothed, whom he was to marry on his return, might reap thebenefits?
Poor Ole! What did he say in this letter? Doubtless that he lovedHulda as faithfully and truly as Hulda loved him, that they wereunited in thought, in spite of the distance that separated them, andthat he longed for the day of his return to Dal.
Yes, he said all this, Hulda was sure of it. But perhaps he might addthat the day of his return was near at hand—that the fishing cruisewhich had enticed the inhabitants of Bergen so far from their nativeland, was nearly at an end. Perhaps Ole would tell her that the"Viking" had finished taking aboard her cargo, that she was aboutto sail, and that the last days of April would not pass without ablissful meeting in the pleasant home at Vesfjorddal. Perhaps, too, hewould assure her, at last, that she might safely appoint the day forthe pastor to come to Moel to unite them in the little chapel