"Why do you think so?"
"But think of it. What does this ticket represent? One chance in a million of winning."
"Yes, one chance in a million. That is very small; it is true, Mr. Benett, very small."
"Yes; and consequently such a reaction has followed the late madness that it is said that this Sandgoist who purchased the ticket to speculate upon it has been unable to find a purchaser."
"So I have heard."
"And yet, if that rascally usurer should win the grand prize, what a shame it would be!"
"A shame, most assuredly, Mr. Benett; the word is not too strong—a shame, unquestionably."
This conversation took place while Sylvius Hogg was walking through the establishment of M. Benett—an establishment well known in Christiania, and indeed throughout Norway. It is difficult to mention an article that can not be found in this bazaar. Traveling-carriages, kariols by the dozen, canned goods, baskets of wine, preserves of every kind, clothing and utensils for tourists, and guides to conduct them to the remotest villages of Finmark, Lapland, or even to the North Pole. Nor is this all. M. Benett likewise offers to lovers of natural history specimens of the different stones and metals found in the earth, as well as of the birds, insects, and reptiles of Norway. It is well, too, to know that one can nowhere find a more complete assortment of the jewelry and bric-à-brac of the country than in his show-cases.
This gentleman is consequently the good angel of all tourists desirous of exploring the Scandinavian peninsula, and a man Christiania could scarcely do without.
"By the way, you found the carriage you had ordered waiting for you at Tinoset, did you not, professor?" he asked.