arge 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 t