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Updated: May 5, 2025
Intensely anxious as he was to revisit the province of Oran, and eager, too, to satisfy himself of the welfare of his faithful Ben Zoof, Servadac could not but own the reasonableness of the lieutenant's objections, and yielded to the proposal that the eastward course should be adopted.
What, then, you have to do, Ben Zoof, is to keep a sharp lookout, and to be ready, in case a vessel should appear, to make signals at once." "But if no vessel should appear!" sighed the orderly. "Then we must build a boat, and go in search of those who do not come in search of us." "Very good. But what sort of a sailor are you?" "Everyone can be a sailor when he must," said Servadac calmly.
"I have the pleasure of introducing Captain Servadac," said the count in his turn. "And this is Colonel Heneage Finch Murphy," was the major's grave rejoinder. More bows were interchanged and the ceremony brought to its due conclusion.
The question was continually being asked, "What does the professor really think?" "Our friend the professor," said Servadac, "is not likely to tell us very much; but we may feel pretty certain of one thing: he wouldn't keep us long in the dark, if he thought we were not going back to the earth again.
Isaac Hakkabut and the professor were the only two members of the community who took no part in this somewhat tedious proceeding. A month passed away, but Servadac found no opportunity of getting at the information he had pledged himself to gain.
Captain Servadac gave old Isaac full permission to take up his residence amongst the rest of the community, promised him the entire control over his own property, and altogether showed him so much consideration that, but for his unbounded respect for his master, Ben Zoof would have liked to reprimand him for his courtesy to a man whom he so cordially despised.
"And as long as there is no wind," added Servadac, "we may pass comfortably through the winter, without a single attack of catarrh." Lieutenant Procope proceeded to impart to the count his anxiety about the situation of his yacht.
On one of the cards was inscribed: Captain Hector Servadac, Staff Officer, Mostaganem. On the other was the title: Count Wassili Timascheff, On board the Schooner "Dobryna."
"And now," continued Servadac, "we will take the shortest way back to the gourbi, and see what our horses think about it all." "They will think that they ought to be groomed," said the orderly. "Very good; you may groom them and saddle them as quickly as you like.
Another instant's investigation, however, revealed a bed in the extreme corner, and extended on the bed a human form. "Dead!" sighed Servadac; "dead of cold and hunger!" Lieutenant Procope bent down and anxiously contemplated the body. "No; he is alive!" he said, and drawing a small flask from his pocket he poured a few drops of brandy between the lips of the senseless man.
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