The carriage paused in front of the Scandinavian Hotel. The proprietor, a dignified-looking personage, with a long, white beard, and a decidedly professional air, promptly appeared in the doorway of his establishment.
With that keenness of perception that characterizes innkeepers in every country on the globe, he remarked:
“I should not wonder if these gentlemen and this young lady would like breakfast.”
“Yes,” replied Sylvius Hogg, “but let us have it as soon as possible.”
“It shall be served immediately.”
The repast was soon ready, and proved a most tempting one. Mention should especially be made of a certain fish, stuffed with a savory herb, of which the professor partook with evident delight.
At half past one o’clock the carriage, to which fresh horses had been harnessed, was brought to the hotel door, and our friends started down the principal street of Drammen at a brisk trot.
As they passed a small and dingy dwelling that contrasted strongly with the gayly painted houses around it, Joel could not repress a sudden movement of loathing.
“There is Sandgoist?” he exclaimed.
“So that is Sandgoist,” remarked Sylvius Hogg. “He certainly has a bad face.”
It was Sandgoist smoking on his doorstep. Did he recognize Joel? It is impossible to say, for the carriage passed swiftly on between the huge piles of lumber and boards.
Next came a long stretch of level road, bordered with mountain ash-trees, laden with coral berries, and then they entered the dense pine forest that skirts a lovely tract of land known as Paradise Valley.
Afterward they found themselves confronted and surrounded by a host of small hills, each of which was crowned with a villa or farmhouse. As twilight came on, and the carriage began to descend toward the sea through a series of verdant meadows, the bright red roofs of neat farmhouses peeped out here and there through the trees, and soon our travelers reached Christiania Bay, surrounded by picturesque hills, and with its innumerable creeks, its tiny ports and wooden piers, where the steamers and ferryboats land.
At nine o’clock in the evening, and while it was still light, the old carriage drove noisily into the city through the already deserted streets.
In obedience to orders previously given by Sylvius Hogg, the vehicle drew up in front of the Hotel du Nord. It was there that Hulda and Joel were to stay, rooms having been engaged for them in advance. After bidding them an affectionate good night the professor hastened to his own home, where his faithful servants, Kate and Fink, were impatiently awaiting him.
XVII
Christiania, though it is the largest city in Norway, would be considered a small town in either England or France; and were it not for frequent fires, the place would present very much the same appearance that it did in the eleventh century. It was really rebuilt in 1624, by King Christian, however; and its name was then changed from Opsolo, as it had been previously called, to Christiania, in honor of its royal architect.
It is symmetrically laid out with broad, straight streets: and the houses are generally of gray stone or red brick. In the center of a fine garden stands the royal palace, known as the Oscarlot, a large quadrangular building, devoid of beauty, though built in the Ionic style of architecture. There are a few churches, in which the attention of worshipers is not distracted by any marvels of art; several municipal and government buildings, and one immense bazaar, constructed in the form of a rotunda, and stocked with both native and foreign goods.
There is nothing very remarkable about all this, but one thing the traveler can certainly admire without stint, and that is the site of the city, which is encircled by mountains so varied in shape and aspect as to form a most superb frame for Christiania.
Though the city is nearly flat in the new and wealthy quarter, the hilly portions, where the poorer classes live, are covered with brick or wooden huts of gaudy tints that astonish rather than charm the beholder.
Like all cities situated upon the water’s edge, and upon fertile hills, Christiania is extremely picturesque, and it would not be unjust to compare its fjord to the famous Bay of Naples. Its shores, like those of Sorrento and Castellamare, are dotted with chalets and villas, half hidden in the dark, rich verdure of the pines, and enveloped in the light mist that imparts such a wonderful softness to northern landscapes.
Sylvius Hogg had at last returned to Christiania, though under conditions that he little dreamed of at the beginning of his interrupted journey. Oh, well, he would try that again another year! He could think only of Joel and Hulda Hansen now. Had there been time to prepare for them, he would certainly have taken them to his own home, where old Fink and old Kate would have made them heartily welcome; but under the circumstances, the professor had thought it advisable to take them to the Hotel du Nord, where, as protégés of Sylvius Hogg, they were sure of every attention, though he had carefully refrained from giving their names, for there had been so much talk about the brother and sister, and especially about the young girl, that it would be very embarrassing for her if her arrival in Christiania should become known.
It had been decided that Sylvius Hogg should not see them again until breakfast the next day, that is to say, between eleven and twelve o’clock, as he had some business matters to attend to that would engross his attention all the forenoon. He would then rejoin them and remain with them until three o’clock, the hour appointed for the drawing of the lottery.
Joel, as soon as he rose the next morning, tapped at the door of his sister’s room, and being anxious to divert her thoughts, which were likely to be more melancholy than ever on such a day, he proposed
