At the first symptom of cold the young painter showed a disposition to protest against such a brutal proceeding, but his valet, always respectful but firm, said to him—
"I am sure, sir, that you would not wish me to have passed a sleepless night to no purpose."
As this reproach had not the desired effect, Joseph thought himself bound to add—
"When an expedition to Africa is contemplated it is just as well to know how to get out of bed."
This time M. de Morin was convinced. With one bound he was on to the handsome tiger-skin which served him for a carpet; he put on his Eastern slippers, got into his dressing-gown, and went into his dressing-room, which Joseph had lit up to its fullest extent in order to dazzle his master's eyes and complete his awakening. His success was complete, and in five minutes' time M. de Morin had recovered all his gaiety and was hard at work at his toilet, humming the while the very latest air of Offenbach, set to the words of MM. Meilbac and Halevy.
Mohammed, however, did not appear to partake of this light-heartedness. He forgot none of his duties, it is true; he put in the wash-hand basin the proper quantity ofeau de Lubin, stropped his favourite razor, and at a spirit-lamp warmed the curling-irons for his master's moustaches. But his countenance was gloomy, and his smile sad, and, every now and then, a sigh, but half-suppressed out of respect, escaped from his over-laden heart.
M. de Morin did not condescend to notice this by-play, and his valet, wishing, probably, to attract attention, became somewhat more demonstrative in his grief. At last the young man, whose ears had been saluted by a sigh deeper than usual, asked Joseph what was the matter with him.
"I am broken hearted, sir, broken hearted," was the reply.
"Really? And so you are broken hearted," said M. de Morin, with the utmost indifference, and buttoning his wristbands. "What has happened to you to make you so broken hearted? Have you been giving way to reflection during the night, and has the camel I promised you frightened you?"
"No, sir, it is not the camel which distresses me. I shall welcome that noble animal with open arms. At this moment, sir, I am not thinking of myself; all my thoughts are with you."
"I should not have thought so, Joseph, seeing that you have handed me a pair of black trousers, which, you will admit, are not quite the thing at 5 a.m."
"That depends, sir. In certain momentous circumstances in life black trousers are not to be despised, nor a high waistcoat either which hides the shirt, and does not allow a single spot of white to be seen or to serve as an aim."
This time M. de Morin was completely puzzled.
"What on earth do you mean," he exclaimed, "by your spots of white and your aims? Has the idea of travelling in Africa turned your brain? Put that razor down—you make me nervous."
"Do not be uneasy, sir. My good sense has not deserted me. I should not suffer as I do if I had lost my reason."
"Look here, Joseph. Though I am pretty well accustomed to your eccentricities, you are going a little too far now, and I insist on your explaining yourself, and that without delay. I did not get up at five o'clock in the morning for the sole purpose of giving you an audience."
"Oh! I am not ignorant that you have other affairs on hand, and it is just that which is distressing me."
"And, in your idea, what have I on hand?"
"That is easily guessed, and I am surprised, sir, that you should have imagined that you could keep your plans a secret from me."
"Keep my plans secret!"
"Yes, sir. It would have been very easy to have told me all, and I take the liberty of saying decidedly that my care, my zeal, and my devotion in your service are worthy of this proof of your confidence."
"Do I understand you, then, to imply that I am compelled to tell you where I am going?"
"There is no compulsion, sir. There is no question of any obligation towards me, but you would have only been acting with prudence by claiming my presence in such circumstances as these. I could, at all events, carry the swords or the pistols, keep off the gendarmes, and assist in conveying the wounded one to a carriage."
"Swords! Pistols! Gendarmes! The wounded!" echoed M. de Morin, wondering whether he had not turned prematurely silly. Suddenly he understood it all, and exclaimed—
"I have it I You fancy that I am going to fight a duel."
"What else could I think, sir?" said Joseph, very grave and solemn. "Did you not tell me that you were neither going on a journey, nor out shooting?"
"Undoubtedly."
"Well then, sir, for what other reason than an affair of honour would you leave the house at five o'clock in the morning, contrary to your usual custom and the usages of high life?"
He pronounced the words "high life" with an accent perfectly irresistible, and then went on to say—
"And besides, sir, you told me to fetch your duelling pistols fromDevisme's. It is clear, it is more than clear—alas! it is evident."
This evidence apparently struck M. de Morin also, for he at once proceeded to reassure his faithful servant.
"You are mistaken, Joseph," he said, kindly, "and your vivid imagination has led you astray. I got up this morning at five o'clock simply to go to my club, where, for a reason which, with your permission, I will keep to myself, I wish to arrive calm and collected, after a few hours' sleep. You may come with me, if that will ease your mind. As regards my pistols, I desire, in anticipation of this expedition, to practice my shooting every day, and you can take them to the shooting-gallery in the course of the morning. And now that my frank explanations have restored you to your usual serenity, perhaps you will have the goodness to bring in the soup and claret I ordered, and once more resume that engaging manner which becomes you so well."
This last suggestion was superfluous, for a smile was once more visible on Joseph's lips.
A quarter of an hour afterwards M. de Morin ascended the staircase of his club, passed through an entrance hall where two servants lay asleep on the benches, and entered the only room which at that moment was occupied.
It was the room devoted, as in most clubs, to baccarat. Along the walls were to be seen roomy couches, whereon to repose from the excitement of play, and where, when the cards were adverse, the unlucky player could snatch a moment or two of sleep whilst waiting for a change of luck. In one corner was placed a table, at which a confidential servant sat, elevated, so to speak, to the dignity of cashier. His duty was to give the player, on demand, counters of all sorts, sizes, and colours, which were intended to represent certain amounts, from the highest to the lowest. Indeed, in all well conducted clubs, it is not customary to have the tables covered with gold or bank notes. These are represented by counters, or fish, in exchange for which, on the following day, as soon as each loser has paid his losses, the cashier hands over their money value. Gambling debts must be paid, not within forty-eight hours, as is generally understood, but really within a limit of sixty hours. This term passed, the member of the club who has lost his counters, if he has not handed in their corresponding value in money, is subject to a penalty which is termed "being posted" and consists in his name being written up on a board hung in the principal room of the club. This punishment is very rarely carried into effect. The unlucky gambler, who has lost more than he can pay, can generally count upon the forbearance of his creditor, and comes to some arrangement with him. If he does not succeed in doing that, his name, after being posted for a moment only, is rubbed out. Heipso factono longer belongs to the club, and his reputation is thereby seriously damaged.
These details are necessary in order to comprehend the scene which was on the point of being enacted between M. de Morin and the young doctor, called Delange, whom he had undertaken to secure as a travelling companion in the expedition.
A large oval table, covered with green cloth, and lighted by lamps hung from the ceiling, took up most of the space in the room we have attempted to describe. In the centre sat the player who held the bank for the time being. On either side of him, to the right or left, he dealt the cards to his fellow players, who were thus divided into two groups, or "sides," to use the recognized description. In front of him were several packs of cards which, when they had been once used, he threw into a sort of leathern bowl placed on the table.
As M. de Morin entered this baccarat room some half-a-score players were commencing another set, and by them his arrival was noisily welcomed.
"Holloa! de Morin, come along! Where do you spring from at this hour? A supper party, of course. Fearful depravity! Your family must be communicated with, and asked to interfere. A splendid game, my dear fellow. Not many of us, it is true, but all of the right sort. Come along and take a hand. Sit by me and bring me luck."
At such an hour a new-comer was a god-send, and the heartiness of the welcome given to M. de Morin had, in reality, nothing personal about it. The winners, anxious to get away with their winnings, but hesitating to leave lest their departure should be too noticeable, were delighted at the arrival of a recruit ready to take their place, and the losers, on the other hand, interested in prolonging the game so that they might have a chance of recouping themselves, were jubilant over the increase to their number, and with that superstition inherent in all gamblers, trusted that the new arrival would turn the tide of fortune in their favour.
M. de Morin, having by a glance satisfied himself that M. Delange, true to his habits, was seated at the baccarat table, secured a supply of counters to the amount of five thousand francs, and, as the bank was up and nobody seemed anxious for it, took it himself.
In a very few moments M. de Morin had doubled his bank, which now amounted to ten thousand francs.
That this would happen might have easily been foreseen, for baccarat cannot be classed amongst games of chance, properly so called, and, consequently it is, if not actually recognized, at all events tolerated in many clubs. It requires to be played with plenty of coolness, and even then only on the basis of certain calculations. It is evident that a player who has to contend against successive runs of eights and nines must inevitably go to the wall, however well he may play, but, as a matter of fact, such knock-down blows are very exceptional. The fall of the cards, as a rule, ranges between one and seven, and this average allows of certain rules for play being formulated, which it is important to study. For instance, whether it is good play to ask for a card when you hold a five and you do not yet know your adversary's play; or whether the banker, after having dealt an ace or a two to the right "side," and a court card to the left, should stand at five. All a matter of inspiration, according to some people, but entirely a matter of calculation in the opinion of regular baccarat players.
But, when the players have been at it for some time, without rest or cessation, they very often forget all about their calculations, and simply trust to chance. Their vaunted science disappears before what they are pleased to call their inspirations, and, for that very reason, the greater part of their winnings disappears, too. Consequently those who, cool and fresh, drop in upon them unexpectedly, are pretty nearly sure to win. These new comers are like troops in reserve. After having been held inactive during the progress of an extended engagement, they receive a sudden order to advance to the attack, and must necessarily get the better of any division of the enemy which has been ever since the morning sustaining repeated onslaughts, is beginning to run short of ammunition, and is ready to drop with fatigue.
M. de Morin, with his skin cool and his head clear, completely master of his game and not in the least pre-occupied, was in a position to watch his adversaries and profit by their mistakes. From their countenances, from the nervous twitching of their wearied hands, and from the exclamations which escaped them unawares, he could tell what they thought of their cards, and could regulate his own play accordingly. If, when worn out with the fatigue and feverish excitement of the game, they stood on a seven, thinking it was an eight, or if they made a mistake in the points of the game, the new comer, as he had every right to do, appealed to the rules and insisted upon their being adhered to.
He also had another, and a very apparent advantage in the game, because, although he was banker, and the players were divided into two sides, he only paid attention to the right side, to which M. Delange belonged. He only cared about winning on that side, and did not trouble himself about the other. For example, if he dealt a ten on his right and a three on his left, he would stand at five, or even at four, although the proper game in such a case would be to take cards. He had only one end in view, and that a secret one, which he pursued with great dexterity—to win as much money as possible from the doctor.
This result was attained all the more easily because his adversary, tired, unnerved, and chafing against the bad luck which fell, on this particular occasion even more than usual, to his share, was playing wildly. At 9 a.m. he had lost some thirty thousand francs. The other players, whose losses were of minor importance, or who had come off quits, wanted to leave off when the waiters appeared to open the shutters and let in the light of day, but M. Delange having insisted on play being continued, a further term of an hour was agreed upon. Coffee was called for, and the game again went on fast and furious.
At 10 a.m. the doctor had lost eighty-five thousand francs. One more bank was started, the last, and then just one more, and afterwards positively the last.
At length play ceased, and each of the players, more or less fatigued and out of spirits, betook himself to his room, and went to bed.
On the following morning, about eleven o'clock, just as M. de Morin was getting ready to go out, the faithful Joseph informed him that Dr. Delange wished to see him. "Aha!" said the young painter to himself. "Now I've got him!" and he at once gave the order for his visitor to be shown up.
Notwithstanding his knowledge of the world, the Doctor could not, on meeting M. de Morin, hide a certain degree of embarrassment; in fact, he was decidedly uncomfortable and by no means at his ease. His face alone, had need been, would have told the painter that an important service was to be solicited.
"You are surprised to see me?" commenced M. Delange, with a very hesitating manner.
"Not the least in the world. Why should such a happy thought on your part astonish me? You had an hour to spare before breakfast, and you are giving me the benefit of it. I am delighted."
"Alas!" replied the Doctor, "I am not here for the pleasure alone of seeing you. I want to speak to you about a matter of considerable importance."
"Indeed! What is it?"
"You know that I was a heavy loser at the Club the other night."
"Yes, and I am very sorry for it. You see, I wanted to stop playing at eight o'clock, but you were so persistent that I was compelled to carry on the bank."
"Good Heavens! My loss then was more than I could pay, and I wanted to go on, in the hope of getting some of it back. It is the old story over again."
"That is bad. What is the amount of your loss?"
"Ninety thousand francs."
"It is a lot, a very big lot, and I sympathise with you sincerely."
"But worse remains behind," said the Doctor, and his voice trembled."It is absolutely impossible for me to pay up just at present."
"You don't mean to say so! That is unfortunate, very unfortunate. What will they say at the Club? They have this year been very much down on all that sort of thing. The Committee decided, at their last meeting, to apply the rule in all its severity."
"I know all about it. I shall be posted in twenty-four hours."
"And are you really unable to avoid this—this—unpleasantness?"
"Utterly unable," replied M. Delange.
"Come, let us think it over. Two heads are better than one. Is there no one who would help you out of your difficulty? You have plenty of friends, and rich ones, too."
"The amount is too large. I should never manage to get hold of so much all at once."
He stopped, hesitated for a moment or two, and then, taking courage, said—
"You, and you alone, can, if you will, get me out of this scrape."
"I! Do you imagine that I could lend you ninety thousand francs? My dear fellow, if you only knew how terribly I am in want of money just now, and what expense I am put to! I am, as you may perhaps have heard, about to undertake a tremendously costly journey, and I am bound to scrape together every farthing I can get hold of."
"You do not understand me," replied the Doctor. "I do not ask you to lend me this amount; I only ask you not to press me for payment at once."
"I do not understand you now. Please explain."
"Did you not win about ninety thousand francs the other night?"
"Possibly. I have not yet made up my account."
"Well, at all events, I lost all that you won."
"Excuse me," said M. de Morin, very curtly, "I do not admit that. Counters have very properly been brought into use in clubs in order to avoid all disputes between the players. Consequently, my dear sir, you do not owe me a farthing, not a single farthing. I have in my drawer a larger number of counters, which I shall take with me to the Club when I go there, either to-night or to-morrow, and, in exchange for them, the Club, my sole debtor, will give me bank notes."
"The Club," said M. Delange, nervously, "will reply, or will cause you to be informed, that as the accounts for the game in question have not been settled, it is not in a position to pay you."
"In that case I shall complain to the Committee. As for you. Doctor, you will have no reproaches from me. I assure you, once more, that I do not look upon you as my debtor."
"Be it so; but the Club will look upon me as its debtor, and, as we have already said, that means being posted."
"What on earth do you want me to do?" exclaimed M. de Morin.
"I want you—I want you—" replied M. Delange, hesitating. "I do not know how to put it, but there is a way—"
"What is it?"
"The only plan is for you, when you hand in your counters, not to ask for any money in exchange, but to say merely that you and I have arranged everything between ourselves. I shall be your debtor all the same, your understand, and I give you my word of honour to pay you as soon as I possibly can."
"I do not doubt it, but you are asking me—"
"It would save me! It would save me!" cried the Doctor, whose distress was now at its height.
"It would save you!" replied M. de Morin. "I do not quite see that. I fear that, on the contrary, I should be doing you a very bad turn. You would continue to be a member of the Club; you would play with equal recklessness, and suffer similar losses. Your debt, already of some magnitude, would increase considerably, and the ruin, which to-day merely threatens you, would in three or four months become inevitable. No, no—in your interest, and purely out of sympathy with you, I am anxious to compel you to forsake the life you are now leading. Only think of the brilliant career that lies before you! And you have neglected, nay, almost cast it on one side altogether, simply to give yourself up, soul and body, to a passion which must ruin you."
"There is yet time enough for me to set to work in earnest," replied M. Delange. "If I can only manage honourably to get out of the false position in which I am now placed, I promise solemnly to hand in my resignation as a member of the club, and never to touch a card again in my life."
"Oh, yes!" replied M. de Morin. "'When the devil was sick, the devil a saint would be,' &c., &c., we know all that. But I tell you plainly that if you remain in Paris, and with your present set, you will come to grief sooner or later. You must summon up courage to expatriate yourself, and go far, far away."
"But Paris is the only place where I am known, and where I have any chance of repairing my shattered fortune and getting out of your debt."
"Nonsense! But there is, possibly, another door open to you. Light this cigar, and give me your undivided attention. An idea has struck me."
M. Delange looked up quickly, and M. de Morin, after having taken a few vigorous whiffs at his cigar, continued his remarks as follows—
"Are you of opinion that if I do you the service you wish me to do,I, in turn, have a right to ask you for something in exchange?"
"Certainly, you may dispose of me as you will, I shall be entirely at your orders."
"Even," replied M. de Morin, and he spoke very slowly and dwelt on each word so that his hearer might be taken as little as possible by surprise, "even supposing that it should be a question of undertaking with me this journey I am contemplating, or, in other words, of accompanying me to Africa?"
The young Doctor was evidently not prepared for this proposal, and could not, in spite of the oratorical precautions of M. de Morin, repress a movement of surprise. Nevertheless, he replied at once—
"I would go with you. To what part of Africa are you going?"
"Equatorial Africa."
"You know that it is terribly unhealthy? You may lose your skin there. Pardon the expression, it is proverbial."
"And it is true," replied the young painter. "But we have just come to the conclusion, I think, that in Paris it is possible, under certain conditions, and with certain proclivities, to lose one's honour."
M. Delange took the hint, and hastened to say—
"The unhealthiness of Africa does not alarm me as far as I myself am concerned. I spoke solely in your interest; I am a doctor, and so free from all fear of diseases."
"Then, speaking generally, you will not raise any serious objections to accompany my friends and me?"
"Certainly not, if you require me so to do. In what capacity shall I join you?"
"As our medical adviser, andsavantgenerally to the expedition."
"But how am I to make money by it?" asked the Doctor. "Do you imagine that I shall secure a large practice amongst the tribes of Africa, forsooth? I shall return to Paris perhaps in a year, more probably not for several, quite forgotten, and without having discharged my gambling debt to you."
"First of all, I want you to understand that the all-important point is to wean you from your evil habits of play—that is essential. Secondly, you will very probably get rid of your liability to me."
"I do not understand you. Do you offer me ninety thousand francs to accompany you?"
"I offer you nothing of the sort. The sum you mention is either too much or too little. Our mutual position in society precludes me from offering you a salary, and you from accepting such an offer. But," added M. de Morin, after a long pull at his cigar, "I can give you your revenge for the day before yesterday."
"My revenge!" exclaimed the Doctor, whose face lighted up in a moment. "You will promise to give me my revenge?"
"Why not?
"Then I may win back my losses? I may—"
"You may free yourself from your liabilities to me, and still not go to Africa? That is your meaning, as I take it."
"I assure you—"
"Confess," continued M. de Morin, without paying the slightest attention to the interruption, "that if I were to offer you such an opportunity, I should be an egregious ass. What? You owe me already a sum which you cannot pay, and I am to enter into an engagement to commence afresh, perhaps to increase the amount, which would be futile, or possibly to lose it, which would be idiotic, for you might very well end some day in getting back all your losses?"
"Why, then, did you say anything about my having my revenge?"
"Your revenge under certain conditions."
"Will you kindly explain them to me?"
"That is exactly what I want to do. But it is nearly noon, so let us go to breakfast, and we will discuss it and my ideas together."
An hour later MM. de Morin and Delange, seated face to face in a private room at Bignon's, called for their coffee and writing materials together, and drew up the following contract, on which, after a lengthy discussion, they had agreed.
Art. 1. Dr. Delange hereby acknowledges to being indebted to M. deMorin in the sum of ninety thousand francs, lost at cards.
Art. 2. M. de Morin undertakes to state that this sum has been paid to him, though such is not the case.
Art. 3. In token of his gratitude to M. de Morin for his forbearance and consideration in this matter. Dr. Delange gives his word of honour that within a space of a few weeks he will quit Paris for the purpose of accompanying M. de Morin, for a period of 300 days, to any countries, wheresoever they may be, which the latter may wish to visit.
Art. 4. It is agreed between the contracting parties that, on each day during the voyage, without a single exception, unless in the case of acute and dangerous illness, a game at cards shall take place between MM. de Morin and Delange.
Art. 5. The loser on each night shall have the right of choosing on the following day any game he may elect to play from amongst the well-known games at cards, or he may even select any other game or bet in lieu of cards.
Art. 6. On no pretext whatever shall the stakes exceed fifty louis per diem. It is, therefore, perfectly understood that three hundredpartiesof 1,000 francs each are to be played Within the space of three hundred days.
Art. 7. The two adversaries shall have the right of fixing, by mutual agreement, the hour when play is to commence; but, should they not agree, the loser shall decide. He may choose the very moment which will suit him best, and may even, in case of need, awake his adversary, should the latter summon sleep to aid him in evading his engagement.
Art. 8. The loser shall also have the right of naming the place, whether it be railway carriage, bridge of a steamer, tent, lake, river, plain, mountain, or desert. At a given signal, his adversary shall be bound to follow him into the shade, the sun, or the water, to the mast-head, or the summit of a mountain-peak.
Art. 9. On the 301st day the account shall be made up. If M. de Morin, after having deducted the ninety thousand francs due to him this day, is the loser, he undertakes to hand over to his adversary a cheque on some banker in Paris, and M. Delange will at once be at liberty to return to France. If, on the other hand, the latter is still in his debt, he will be at liberty to frame a fresh contract for one, two, or three hundred days, at his option, under the conditions already set forth.
Given under our hands at Paris this tenth day of September, one thousand eight-hundred and seventy-two.
As soon as the various clauses of this contract had been committed to paper, M. de Morin said to the Doctor—
"You remember exactly what we have just written?"
"Perfectly."
"And you are quite sure of not forgetting it?"
"I am quite sure."
"Very well. Amongst men like ourselves I am of opinion that there is no necessity for any written agreement. I give you my word that I will faithfully, and to the letter, carry out these engagements. Will you give me yours?"
"I will."
"Then I propose to burn this document."
"I agree, and thank you for your proposal."
In an instant the flames of the taper, brought for the purpose of lighting their cigars, had reduced the contract to ashes.
The same evening the new doctor of the expedition was presented to Madame de Guéran. M. Delange, as long as his passion for play left him at rest, was an exceedingly nice fellow, a pleasant companion, with a fund of agreeable conversation, and very well informed. He impressed the Baroness very favourably, and she at once endorsed the choice made by M. de Morin.
The chief parts in the expedition were thus filled up, and there was nothing now to do but to select the subordinates. The application of the trusty Joseph-Mohammed was then taken into consideration, and, after a short discussion, accepted. It was determined, at the same time, to add to him some other European servant. In Egypt, according to custom, a few Arabian attendants were to be engaged, who might not, in every way, be all that could be wished, but whose familiarity with the usages of the country would be of great use in many contingencies.
An exception was, however, made to this limit in favour of a female companion whom the Baroness desired to have with her. As soon as the expedition had been decided on, Madame de Guéran had written to her friends in London to find out for her a lady of irreproachable respectability, who had already travelled and was willing to travel again, and the result was the immediate offer of a Miss Beatrice Poles. She had, it was said, accompanied the celebrated Dutch traveller, Mdlle. Alexina Tinne, throughout the greater part of her explorations in Africa, and with the courage and determination so remarkable in the case of many female travellers, she only asked to be allowed to expose herself to fresh fatigue, and to encounter new dangers.
The Baroness at first hesitated to engage this applicant. Miss Poles, she thought, might, whilst in the service of Mdlle. Tinne, have become accustomed to an amount of ease and luxury which she certainly would not find in the society of her new companions. In fact, Madame de Guéran, without having any idea of travelling in as primitive a fashion as did the pretended dervish, Vambéry, or Dr. Barth, or many others, had fully made up her mind not to dazzle the Arabs and negroes by any display of magnificence. In barbarous countries cupidity and envy can never be roused with impunity, and the Thouaregs proved that by the massacre of Mdlle. Tinne under the very eyes of Miss Poles.
But the friends of Madame de Guéran in England brought fresh arguments to bear on her hesitation. Theirprotégée, they said, from her experience of Africa, and her thorough knowledge of the customs of the country, would be of the greatest use, and, moreover, both her zeal and unlimited devotion might be relied upon. These arguments prevailed with Madame de Guéran, and she accordingly engaged the whilom companion of Mdlle. Tinne.
Miss Beatrice Poles, to judge from her appearance, was about forty years of age when she first made her appearance in Madame de Guéran's drawing-room, in the Boulevard Malesherbes. She was a tall, angular female, so thin that she looked as if she had been flattened out by hydraulic pressure, and so dry and withered-looking that M. de Morin was quite uneasy when he saw her near the fire. She had a long neck, long arms, stilts, presumably, for legs, and feet which were a source of never-ending admiration to M. Périères. "They were so long," he said, "that she need never walk. She arrived at her destination before starting."
Her face was almost entirely hidden by huge blue spectacles, with side-guards, which she had got into the habit of wearing in Africa, to protect her against the diseases of the eye so prevalent in that country. Under a tropical sun she had lost that fresh colour which had in former days, as she professed in her moments of confidence, rendered her so attractive, and her complexion had become embrowned to such an extent that she might very well have been taken for a negress. That such a mistake was possible is evident from the "Times," which in giving an account of the death of Mdlle. Tinne, said—"The other servants succeeded in escaping with the exception of a negress, who was carried off by the Thouaregs." The negress was no other than Miss Beatrice Poles, an Englishwoman, and a cockney to boot.
She was a most estimable woman, all the same, well brought up, speaking English, French, and Arabic, understanding a joke, and quick at repartee, without prejudice, and, a rarity in Englishwomen, free from prudery, but that was to be accounted for by her familiarity with the manners and customs of the not too particular tribes of Africa.
After his first interview with her, M. de Morin asked permission to paint her portrait, which she graciously accorded. Underneath the sketch, he wrote—"Return from Africa. This is how we shall all look when we come back."
As soon as the establishment of masters and servants was complete, a meeting took place at Madame de Guéran's apartments to distribute the duties which remained to be carried out. Each one, according to his or her position and means, had a proportionate share of purchases to make, letters to write, information to obtain, packages to see to, and excursions to undertake.
The experience of Miss Beatrice Poles was of the utmost value. She ransacked the shops from morning to night, and bought or ordered a thousand things of which nobody else would have dreamt. So untiring and energetic was she, that one evening, when she was recounting her perigrinations throughout Paris, M, de Morin said to her—
"Of course, to accomplish all this, you took a cab?"
"A cab!" she exclaimed indignantly. "I never set foot in one except I am absolutely compelled. Any kind of locomotion you like, except that. I never can bring myself to be shut up in those pill-boxes on wheels. The inaction you are condemned to in them worries and frets me to a degree, and would soon wear me out."
"Miss Poles," replied the painter, with a countenance irresistibly comic in its immobility, "I should like to point out to you that your pedestrian feats, and your activity generally are also wearing you out. You are a model of proportion—and I am only too happy to do you justice in that respect—but, at the same time, on the score ofembonpoint, there is, possibly, something to be desired."
"And that," replied Miss Poles, "is entirely due to the life of inaction I have led in England for the last two years. Luxury does not suit my temperament at all. In peace and quietness I lose flesh, to regain it as soon as ever I resume an active existence. At the end of a month of Africa you will not recognize me, and, even now, by reason of the life I am leading in Paris, I have gained a pound."
"Whereabouts?" asked M. de Morin, absorbed in contemplation, and in the futile attempt to discover the exact locality of the vaunted addition.
Dr. Delange was equally zealous in fulfilling the duties which devolved upon him. Having given his word of honour to M. de Morin not to touch a card as long as he remained in Paris, he was anxious to get out of it as quickly as possible, in order that the series ofparties, promised under the contract, might commence. But if the gambler in him was still unsubdued and burning with an unabated fever for play, thesavantand the doctor combined were equally wide awake. Committed, in an unforeseen and eccentric fashion, to an expedition of which, only a fortnight before, he never dreamt, M. Delange, gambling being out of the question, did not in the least regret the engagement into which he had entered. The study of medicine, to a man gifted with intelligence, anxious to learn, and despising the beaten tracks to knowledge, is a perpetual excursion into unknown lands—a veritable voyage of discovery. Thus, the young doctor, who had hitherto made his voyages and carried out his discoveries in his own study, rejoiced at the idea of exploring on a large scale, and in a more active fashion.
Thanks to the well-known courtesy of M. Malte-Brun, then the editor of the "Annales des Voyages," and a corresponding member of all the Geographical Societies of Europe, as well as a friend of all the great explorers in the world, M. Delange obtained some very valuable information as to the diseases against which he would have to use his skill in Africa, the precautions to be taken to steer clear of them, and the various remedies best suited to the different districts and climates. He also devoted himself, more seriously than he had hitherto done, to the study of Natural History, hoping soon to be able to do good service to that branch of science.
Dr. Desrioux, by way of pleasing Madame de Guéran, placed his services at the disposal of hisconfrère. He thought of everything, was ever on the watch, and made many suggestions, the value of which, later on and in time of peril, was amply proved. Although he could not leave Paris, he was as deeply interested in everything connected with the projected expedition, as if he were going to form part of it—he was, in fact, its soul.
As for Joseph, he had been beside himself with joy ever since the memorable day when he was informed that he was to take part in the expedition. At last his dreams were about to be realized—an Arab name, a bûrnus, a camel! As for the name, he assumed it at once, without any tender regret for the one he had hitherto borne. At all the shops where he made his purely personal purchases, he gave as his address—Mohammed-Abd-el-Gazal. It appeared to him decidedly moredistinguéthan Joseph, and imbued him with an Eastern tinge.
The camel—well, unfortunately, he would have to wait for that. But when M. de Morin gave him a holiday to say good-bye to his family, Joseph allowed his relatives to slide, as the Americans say, and betook himself to theJardin des Plantesto gaze on the camels, and study their habits. He even succeeded in inducing one of the keepers to let him lay a tenderly caressing hand on one of those noble coursers of the desert, or as Joseph, ever high-sounding and figurative, would call them, those placid beasts.
Neither did he lose any time in becoming the proud possessor of the most correct and ample of bûrnus, this national garment having been willingly surrendered to him by an Arab servant, whose master was then staying at the Grand-Hôtel. Joseph was perpetually, night and day, trying on this bûrnus, and when he had draped it round him he would solemnly walk up and down his room in the Rue Taitbout. M. de Morin, who had not been apprized of this new caprice of his servant, and was, consequently, not prepared for the metamorphosis, thought, when he returned home one evening, that his rooms were frequented by ghosts.
The Arab servant, moreover, for a consideration, taught Joseph his maternal tongue, and the new pupil, studious to excess, practised the language unremittingly, and was all day long, even whilst in attendance on his master, giving utterance to the most extraordinary sounds. When spoken to on the subject by M. de Morin, he replied emphatically—
"You should not object, sir, seeing that I am preparing to open the gates of the desert for you."
These philological studies, these struttings in the bûrnus, and the lengthened investigation into the manners and customs of camels, rather disturbed the brain of Mohammed-Abd-el-Gazal, and made him at times somewhat absent. If M. de Morin asked for a glass of water, Joseph, his mind ever occupied with the expedition, would bring him a compass or a patent pedometer. One day, at breakfast time, instead of laying on the table the time-honoured white cloth, he spread out a huge map of Africa, and on it placed the plates and dishes, and other paraphernalia. When his mistake was pointed out to him, he said very plainly that he did not regret it, because, as he told his master, it was an advantage, instead of having before him a simple piece of linen, which expressed nothing, to feast his eyes on a splendid bird's-eye view of mountains, lakes, seas, rivers, and so to exercise, at one and the same time, his gastronomic and intellectual abilities.
"Utile dulci," added Joseph, who was a classic on occasion.
Sometimes, too, Mohammed would leave the windows open, and light all the candles, so that, as he said, the insects in the neighbourhood might be attracted, and that thus he might accustom himself to the bites of the mosquitoes so prevalent in Africa. In short, he neglected nothing, and, ever on the look-out for something oriental, he struck up, during his last days in Paris, a friendship with a negress of the purest ebony. Hoping to enlist her sympathies, and recall to her some recollections of her childhood, he expatiated, without cessation, on the horrors of slavery. Unfortunately for him, the negress, born at Martinique years after the emancipation of the slaves, did not understand one word of his conversation.
M. de Morin was at length obliged to beg Joseph to attend a little more to his legitimate duties, and a little less to Arabs and negresses, but Mohammed shut him up at once by saying—
"Reassure yourself, sir; I shall be strictly correct in the desert."
The 10th of October arrived, and everything was in readiness for a start. The day of departure was fixed, and berths engaged for Egypt on board one of those magnificent steamers belonging to the Messageries Company, leaving Marseilles at 9 a.m. on each alternate Sunday.
Madame de Guéran, who was especially anxious to avoid attracting attention to herself, had begged her companions to make their preparations with as little fuss as possible, and, above all things, to keep the newspapers in the dark. They respected her wishes, and not a word appeared in print. But the "cat was let out of the bag," proverbially speaking, in England, where, for some time past, she had asked for advice and information of all kinds.
In London, at the latest meeting of the Royal Geographical Society, the President, after having given a brief account of the journeys of the Baron de Guéran, alluded to his labours, and touched upon his death, so disastrous in the interests of science and so wanting in confirmation from official sources, mentioned the intention of Madame de Guéran to penetrate into the interior of Africa, as far as the spot where her husband had perished. He also called attention to the fact that the intending traveller, although the widow of a Frenchman, and residing in Paris, was an Englishwoman, and the daughter of one of the original members of the Society. He concluded by wishing, on behalf of himself and all present, the expedition every success.
Following the example thus set by England, the Geographical Society of Paris thought fit also to devote a few lines, in its journal of October, 1872, to Madame de Guéran and her companions. It spoke of the journeys already made by Miss Beatrice Poles with Mdlle. Tinne, and even mentioned Joseph, describing him, from information afterwards suspected to have been supplied by himself— Mohammed Abd-el-Gazal, dragoman.
It was on the 14th October, 1872, that the new band of explorers met at the Lyons Railway Station to take the express to Marseilles, and every one was there to the moment.
Several persons, relations and intimate friends, were there to see them off, and, in a corner of the waiting-room, might be seen an Arab and a negress, who would not let Mohammed go without some mark of their tender regret.
Dr. Desrioux and his mother, who, for some days past had been frequent visitors at the house of Madame de Guéran, were also at the station, and obtained permission to accompany the Baroness on to the platform. When the guard's whistle sounded, Madame Desrioux, pointing to her son, pressed Madame de Guéran's hand affectionately, and whispered—
"I thank you for having left him to me."
Laura made no reply, but, pale as death and with her eyes filled with tears, she hurried into the carriage to hide her emotion. The whistle of the engine sounded, and the train moved off. For a long time M. Desrioux followed it with his eyes, standing motionless and sad, and his mother had to take hold of his arm to induce him to leave the station. As soon as he was alone with her in the carriage which took them home, this man of science, this man, supposed to be superior to every weakness, cried like a child.
And in the meanwhile, the train which was conveying the new African explorers sped on its way. The journey had begun.
"Although thi& letter is dated 'Cairo,' do not imagine, my dear friend, that I am going to describe that town. If you are really anxious to see it through my spectacles, you have only to turn to my letters of 1861, when I was assisting that most charming of all charming travellers, Alexina Tinne, to arrange the expedition which was to have reached the sources of the Nile, and in them you will find a very detailed account of Egypt. Consequently, for some time to come, you must not expect any geographical details. That part of Africa where I now am does not count for anything—it is far too civilized. The Nile merely recalls the Thames to my mind, and, as for the streets of Cairo, they are to me just like the Strand. Africa, eastwards, does not begin, in my idea, until you reach the latitude of Khartoum. When we get that far, and not until then, I will give you a bird's-eye view or two of the country. So, dearest, for the present, let us put geography on one side, and come to purely personal topics.
"You were rather angry with me, dear, were you not, on account of my sudden flitting, my hasty desertion from our cosy evenings and the tea which you know so well how to make, and my surrender of the excellent position which your interest obtained for me with that dear Mrs. Oxenford, to whom I send my warmest regards.
"I could not remain in a situation—the monotony is too much for me. Nature, you may depend upon it, had some design in view when she gave me such prolonged feet. They are ever beckoning the rest of my body onward; and my other members, smaller and less self-asserting, have nothing to do but obey. I verily believe that, if I were fool-hardy enough to attempt any resistance, they would end by simply detaching themselves, and setting out, unaccompanied, in search of adventure. Consequently, as in that case I should lose, if not the most becoming, at all events the most extensive part of myself, I prefer giving way. Every being in this world obeys an irresistible impulse of some kind. Many are guided by their head, which, not being weighty enough, turns and twists in empty nothingness at the mercy of every wind; others follow the dictates of their heart, and a pretty mess they make of it. As for me, I obey my feet. They very often lead me into terrible quagmires, but, as a rule, I get off with the loss of my shoes.
"Well, see me once more on my travels. I have deserted you, dearest, in the most shameful manner, have once more parted company with dear old England—for, notwithstanding my faithlessness, I love her—and the worst of it is that I have not the remotest idea whither I am bound. I am to go somewhere, and that is all that either I or my feet care about. They were beside themselves with joy, and frisked—nay, positively twinkled to such an extent, that it was a treat to see them. They are perfect beauties, I assure you, at such moments, and out-do themselves in expression.
"All the information I had was that I was wanted for another journey to Africa. But what part of Africa? And with whom was I destined to travel? What would be the component parts of the expedition? Should I be mixed up with geologists, astronomers, naturalists, zoologists, hydrographers, ethnologists, ideologists, ornithologists, or ethnographers? For expeditions, worthy the name, are made up of all those elements; they are the real stock-in-trade of a caravan.
"On my arrival in Paris, after presenting my letters of introduction to Madame de Guéran, I asked her to present me to the scientific members of the expedition, and she, to begin with, introduced me to a little doctor, who, in the sweetest voice imaginable, said—
"'Miss Poles, I have far more confidence in your experience than in my own diplomas. If we are ill, you are the one to take care of us, and I resign my functions into your hands.'
"'And, in that case, what are you going to do?' I asked.
"'I shall devote myself to natural history,' was the reply.
"And, so saying, he looked me up and down with an air of the greatest curiosity, as if I were some specimen in spirits of wine in a bottle.
"My next introduction was to a literary individual, and a very good-looking fellow into the bargain.
"'Miss Poles,' he commenced, 'I hear that you have been a prisoner with the Thouaregs, and I hope you will do me the favour of recounting to me your adventures whilst in the midst of that whimsical tribe. I should like to work them up into an article for the "Revue de France.'
"'Certainly not, sir,' said I, horrified, 'certainly not. The bare idea of having every detail of my life held up to the public gaze revolts me.'
"'Pardon me, if I have been indiscreet,' was his reply. 'I thought yours was merely a case of ordinary captivity.'
"'And, I, sir, never said it was not.'
"'My dear Miss Poles,' went on this impudent little animal, 'if I had only known that—'
"'Once more, sir—'
"'Not a word. Miss Poles, not a word. I will not ask any more questions.'
"Truly, these Parisians are unbearable. Judge for yourself. The last individual presented to me was a M. de Morin, a painter. Without giving me time to put my hair straight, or arrange my dress, or strike an attitude, out came his pencils, and in I went into his album.
"The likeness is good enough, I must confess; but I detest those sketchy productions which cannot possibly give any idea of womanly attractions. Fortunately, however, M. de Morin has promised me a portrait in oils, in which he will do his best to reproduce my smile and the brightness of my eyes.
"You know, dearest, that I am not given to illusions, and that I know exactly what value to place on myself. I am not what is called a pretty woman, but I have in my expression, in my look, a certain softness, a mellowness, in fact, such as the Spaniards termmorbidez. A Thouareg Chief said to me one day—but I will not expatiate on these details. You know them, and we will keep them to ourselves.
"At first, as you will have guessed, this expedition did not inspire me with any great amount of confidence. The doctor did not want to have anything to do with medicine, the literary man wanted to pry into my private life, and the painter, instead of reserving his pencils for African curiosities, sketched me in déshabille.
"Well, my dear, I was mistaken. These people are originals, certainly,fantaisistes, as they call themselves; humourists, as we in England should call them; but they are very nice, and in reality very much in earnest. I think I shall get on with them, if they will only keep from being jealous of each other about me. The fact is—why should I try to hide it from you, the faithful depositary of all my secrets?—the fact is, I am afraid that all of them will make love to me.
"Already M. de Morin has bestowed on me some tender glances, whose meaning there is no mistaking, and I shall need all my tact, circumspection, and reserve, and plenty of the last. I have made up my mind to favour no one of the three, and so I trust that the expedition may pass over without any regular proposal.
"And, besides, I can rely upon Madame de Guéran for protection against any annoyance. These three gentlemen, but especially the painter and the literary man, are her slaves, body and soul. I thought at first that they were in love with her; but as I now see that they do not pay her a single compliment, but reserve all their attentions and flirtations for me, I am obliged to come to an opposite conclusion.
"And I am very glad to think that there is no chance of rivalry between the Baroness and me, for it would be very painful to me to wound in any way so thoroughly genial a woman. I am delighted to give her her due, for she is a high-minded, good-natured creature. Neither is she by any means deficient in firmness of character and resolute courage—in fact, she reminds me very much of that dear Miss Tinne, both as regards her beauty, her independence of character and her love of adventure. But I shall feel very much safer with the Baroness than I ever could with Alexina, who was a little too eccentric, poor dear, and involved us in adventures which I, for one, do not care to have repeated.
"But, here I am lingering over my chat with you, dearest, and all this time these men are calling out for me. Poor fellows! They are just like souls in purgatory if I am away from them for a moment."
"At last, my dear Emily, I have got rid of those men, who have been as charming as usual, and, if anything, rather more assiduous in their attentions than before. The Egyptian sun, doubtless, infuses warmth into their hearts, and I am not surprised, as it has exactly the same effect on me.
"To hark back—We left Marseilles eight days ago. We had a compartment reserved for us, in which I sat opposite to Madame de Guéran, whilst the painter, the literary man, and the doctor occupied the other seats. As for Joseph, he got into another carriage and, as he was no longer under our watchful eyes, could talk as largely as he pleased whilst discussing our and his own little affairs.
"By the time we reached Lyons the whole train knew who we were and where we were going, and called Joseph Mohammed Abd-el-Gazal, as long as your arm. I imagine, too, that he must have spoken particularly about me, and have expatiated upon my former travels, for, the moment I entered the refreshment-room, there was no end of whispering and pushing amongst the people there.
"Fortunately for me, these things do not trouble me in the least. I accept resignedly the popularity which accrues to me through my numerous adventures.
"You know, my dear Emily, what people generally do who have to pass the night in a railway carriage—how each settles himself in his own particular seat, screws himself into the corner of it and hollows out a nest, as it were, undoes his travelling-rug, stretches himself out, or curls himself up, according to his taste, and, in short, makes all his arrangements for sleeping or musing, conformably to his temperament and his fancy.
"We were not due at Marseilles until eleven o'clock on the following morning, and we disposed ourselves accordingly; I, for my part, making myself as comfortable as I could, whilst paying due attention to the grace of my movements, and the dignified elegance of my attitude. I was anxious to give everybody an idea of what may be called the poetry of sleep. Only, my feet were in my way and embarrassed me; do what I would to pack myself up and shrink into the smallest possible space, I did not know where to put them. They hung over the seat by a foot and a half.
"I was at last just going to sleep, and I thought that my neighbours would do the same, when I became a witness of the following scene:—
"The doctor of the expedition, M. Delange, who was seated at the other end of the carriage, on the opposite side to me and in the corner, became suddenly restless and began to move about just as a person does, who, after having for a long time tried to go to sleep, gives it up as a bad job. The noise he made, breaking upon the general silence, roused me from my drowsiness. I half-opened my eyes, and to my extreme discomfort, saw that the young doctor had got up from his seat and was coming towards mine. What on earth does he want, I thought. And I confess that I was considerably alarmed, although, lest I should wake my companions, I kept my nervousness to myself.
"All the same, I assure you, I was quite prepared to give my gentleman a warm reception, for, however flattering to one's vanity it may be to be kissed in one's sleep, I do not think that a railway carriage is at all a proper place for such demonstrations of admiration.
"However, when he came close to me, and I was quite prepared to give him a sounding box on the ears by way of manifesting my displeasure, M. Delange stopped, reached up to the netting, and took therefrom his carpet bag.
"So I had only my own sensitiveness to blame, and, however I may have flattered myself as to the power of my own fascinations, I was obliged in the end to confess to myself that the young doctor really wanted merely his carpet bag.
"He had scarcely resumed his seat when he put his bag on his knees and, after rummaging about in it for some moments, wound up by taking out a small packet, wrapped in white paper, and looking at M. de Morin, who was seated opposite to him and at my feet.
"The dear painter was enjoying a sound, peaceful, and snoreless sleep—the sweet, silent slumber of a child or a woman. It was quite pleasant to see him given up so thoroughly to repose, and I should never have been cruel enough to awake him, but M. Delange, less considerate than I, suddenly seized M. de Morin by the arm and shook him impatiently.
"'What's the matter? What do you want? Are we there already?' said the painter, sitting up and opening his eyes, still heavy with sleep.
"'No, my dear fellow," replied M. Delange. 'We are very far from being there, especially if you mean Africa, for we are not more than three hours from Paris. It is exactly 10.48 p.m. We have just passed Tonnerre, and are going ahead full steam for Dijon!'
"'Well, then, why on earth did you wake me up?' said M. de Morin, crossly.
"'Why did I wake you up?' repeated M. Delange, with a smile on his face. 'How about our contract?'
"'What contract?'
"'What! You have forgotten it already? I'll recall it to your mind. Art. 4—It is understood between the contracting parties that, on each day during the voyage, without any exception unless in case of sickness, apartieat cards shall be played by M M. de Morin and Delange—we have been hours on our voyage; you are not ill—to that, in my capacity of doctor, I certify—and I am, therefore, in a position to exact the fulfilment of the contract.'
"'In a railway carriage?' exclaimed M. de Morin, in a tone of incredulity.
"'No place is excepted,' observed the doctor, with his calmest manner. 'Will you kindly remember that another article of this contract gives me, and you also, the right of deciding that thepartieshall come off even in the middle of a river, with one's feet in the water, or on the top of a mountain, with one's head in the clouds. Our present situation is rather more convenient than either of those, and there is no obstacle whatever—'
"'Except that we have no cards,' interrupted the painter.
"'I took good care to provide myself with two packs,' said M. Delange, as he tore the cover off the small packet which he had taken out of his carpet bag.
"'But we cannot play on our knees,' remonstrated M. de Morin, making one more effort at resistance.
"'The seat will do very well for a card-table.'
"'But there is not light enough.'
"'I have provided for that,' replied the Doctor, as he took hold of his carpet bag once more, and produced a small lantern, placing it on the arm which separated the seats.
"'Come along, then!' said M. de Morin, making a virtue of necessity. 'You have an answer to every objection, but deuce take me if I thought of being called upon to-day!'
"'For my part,' replied the Doctor, 'I have been, for the last six weeks, awaiting this moment with a feverish impatience. Only think for an instant! I have never, in the whole course of my life, been so long without playing, and if this species of privation had gone on much longer I should have been taken ill.'
"'You are incorrigible,' said M. de Morin, laughing. 'In my innocence, I said to myself, he has forgotten our contract, and he is undertaking this journey for the mere pleasure of travelling.'
"'So I am, but that does not hinder us from playing cards for an hour or two each day.'
"'All right. What is the game to be? You are the loser, and so have your choice.'
"'Ecarté, if you have no objection.'
"'I have no voice in the matter,' exclaimed the painter, with an air of resignation. 'In accordance with our contract I am your slave, so écarté be it. One game for a thousand francs, is it not? I want to take up my dream, as soon as possible, where I left it.'
"'Sorry to contradict you. We will play for five louis the trick only, so that the pleasure may last the longer.'
"'Be it so, but, still in accordance with our contract, we are only to play onepartiea day. It is now eleven o'clock at night, and you have consequently only one hour before you in which to win or lose your fifty louis.'
"'I know it, so let us begin.'
"From my corner, my dear Emily, I heard every word of this strange conversation, but I must confess that I did not understand much of it. The pair began to play, and I paid no more attention to them, preferring to go to sleep."
"At Valence, about 7 a.m., at the announcement by the porters that the train would stop for four minutes, the whole carriage full yawned, stretched themselves, passed their hands over their eyes, hair, and moustaches, made a kind of cursory toilet, and at last woke up completely. The windows were let down, and a miniature southern sun, the timid precursor of the burning rays of Africa, infused a little warmth into us.
"It was only after having had a good look at, and recognized each other, and said good-morning, that we began to chat. On the previous evening, weariness and want of spirits had prevented our being very communicative, but, now, as soon as the power of speech had come back to us, I asked MM. de Morin and Delange for some information as to their game at écarté. They had no idea that I was fully aware of all their doings and sayings, and they laughingly told me that the result of the play was in favour of the doctor.
"'A thousand francs?' said I. 'And did you leave off at midnight?'
"'Yes, but how—'
"'In my corner I heard all that passed, but when you spoke of a contract which you were bound to fulfil I allow that I did not understand you.'
"'We will soon unravel that mystery,' said M. de Morin, 'and the more so because this is not the last time we shall play. We shall do it every day, and it would be too bad to puzzle you any longer.'
"And with a grace of manner which is quite natural to him, the young painter gave me a detailed account of his agreement with M. Delange. I saw at once that the latter is a gambler at heart, and, as I do not like that, he has fallen in my esteem. It is not that I am very particular, for, as you know full well, my dear Emily, I have seen so much of the world and its lights and shades, and so many crimes have been perpetrated under my very eyes in this dear Africa, whither I am returning entirely of my own free will, that I am naturally inclined to err on the side of indulgence, and to place a love of play in the category of minor offences. But, as a woman, I have a grudge against M. Delange, seeing that he might very well dispense with his gambling whilst in our society. Madame de Guéran and I are sufficiently engaging, and we have attractions enough, both intellectual and physical, to make it easy for him to sacrifice his love for cards. By-and-bye I may forgive him, but at this present moment both his friends occupy a higher place than he does in my esteem.
"I really have not anything to say about our stay in Marseilles, because nothing of importance happened there. We only spent one whole day in the place, Saturday, and on Sunday, at 9 a.m., we embarked on board one of the magnificent steamers belonging to theMessageries Maritime, which plies to India and China.
"Neither have I anything to tell you of our trip across. Amongst the passengers were a number of our fellow-countrymen, on their way to Calcutta and Singapore, some Dutch going to Java, and a great many French, principally from Marseilles, with whom Mohammed-Abd-el-Gazal got on famously.
"We reached Naples in about forty hours, and three days afterwards landed in Egypt. The weather throughout was magnificent, and the Mediterranean as calm as the Thames. We, all of us, were wonderfully well except the faithful Joseph, who, as he did not deny himself anything, fell a victim to sea-sickness. How did he contrive to be ill, if the sea was so calm? you will ask. I really do not know; his ways are not our ways. If only he would have conducted his sickness in a discreet and poetical manner, as I have myself often done, and wholesale, too! But no—his sickness was of the most intrusive and prosaic character. My dear Emily, these common people cannot do anything gracefully, whereas an English girl who has been well brought up, on the contrary, elevates even the most trivial things.
"The trip to me, indeed, was simply enchanting. I gazed once more on the clear, blue sky, without which I can no longer exist. Africa knew me again, and overflowing with loving care, wafted me her sweetest odours. At length T was no longer shut up in a box, as I had been in Paris and Marseilles; I could tread the deck from stem to stern. My feet were carried away with delight, and walked—oh! how they walked! According to the calculations of M. Périères, who made a regular study of me, and, every now and then, without my knowing it, fastened a pedometer to my back, I walked about forty miles a day, from end to end of the ship.
"Very often, even at night, when the heavens were studded with twinkling stars, I resumed my walk after supper. The passengers who had betaken themselves to their cabins and wished to sleep, complained more than a little of the noise I made over their heads. But that did not affect me in the least; I am above all those petty considerations, and the deck is open to all the world. One evening, however, as I was walking, from choice, on the poop, I heard, just as I was over one of the starboard cabins, a voice immediately beneath me. 'Oho!' thought I to myself, 'here we have a fractious kind of sleeper. Wait a bit, my friend, and I'll teach you to knock like that and try to impose silence on a British female!' And with that, instead of going farther away, I began to stamp above that ill-advised cabin.
"'What are you doing, Miss Beatrice?' said M. Périères, as he joined me. 'You are right on the top of Madame de Guéran's cabin. She recognized you by the airy lightness of your step, and knocked to ask you to go down and speak to her.'