Treasure Hunt Tales: The Star of the South & Captain Antifer. Жюль Верн
“I think,” he continued, “we shall have to give up—”
“Give up!” exclaimed Saouk, slapping the table, “give up four millions?”
“No, your Excellency; give up—let the Breton know—the longitude the will orders us to give him.”
“For him to take advantage of it, imbecile; for him to unearth the millions!”
Anger is a bad councillor, and this Saouk, who was not destitute of intelligence or astuteness, finally came to think. He calmed down as much as he could, and thought of the proposal submitted by Ben Omar. It was certain that nothing would be got from Antifer by stratagem, and that some other scheme must be thought of.
The plan agreed upon was this. His Excellency and his very humble servant would call in the morning on Captain Antifer, give him the longitude and learn from him in exchange what was the latitude. When the information was obtained Saouk would endeavour to forestall the sailor, and if he could not do this he would accompany Antifer during the search and endeavour to carry off the treasure. If, as was probable, the islet was situated in some distant part of the world, the plan had many chances of success, and the affair would end to Saouk’s advantage.
When this plan had been definitely agreed upon Saouk added,—
“I rely on you, Ben Omar, to be straightforward; if not—”
“You can rely on me, your Excellency; but you promised me my commission.”
“Yes, for according to the will the commission is due to you—on the express condition that you do not leave Antifer for an instant during the journey.”
“I will not leave him!”
“Nor will I! I will accompany him!”
“In what capacity? Under what name?”
“As the chief clerk of Ben Omar, and under the name of Nazim!”
“You?”
And this “you” was said in a tone of despair that indicated only too clearly what violence and misery Ben Omar anticipated.
CHAPTER VIII.
When Captain Antifer reached the door of his house he opened it, entered the dining-room, and sitting down at the corner of the fireplace, began to warm his feet, without saying a word.
Enogate and Juhel were talking near the window, but he took no notice of their presence. Nanon was busy cooking in the kitchen, and he did not worry as usual by asking a dozen times, “if it would soon be ready?”
Evidently Antifer was deep in thought; but it would not do to tell his sister, and his nephew and niece, what had happened at his interview with Ben Omar, the notary of Kamylk Pasha. During the meal he said nothing. He even refrained from any second helpings, and contented himself with prolonging his dessert by mechanically disposing of several dozen periwinkles, which he extracted from their greenish shells by means of a long copper-headed pin.
Several times Juhel spoke to him; but he answered not a word.
Enogate asked him what was the matter, as he did not seem to hear.
“Brother, what ails you?” asked Nanon, as he rose to retire to his room.
“I have got a wisdom tooth coming through!” he replied.
And each of them thought that it would not be too late if it could make him wise in his old age.
Then, without lighting his pipe, which he was so fond of smoking night and morning on the rampart, he went upstairs without saying good-night to anybody.
“Uncle is troubling about something,” remarked Enogate.
“Has he had any news?” said Nanon, as she cleared the table.
“Perhaps we had better send for Tregomain?” replied Juhel.
The truth is that Captain Antifer was more uneasy and anxious than he had ever been since he had been expecting the indispensable messenger. Had he not failed in presence of mind, in acuteness, during his interview with Ben Omar? Had he done right in being so categorical and reserved with this fellow, instead of winning him over, of discussing the main points of the business, of trying to bargain with him? Had he done wisely in calling him a rascal, a crocodile, and so on? Would it not have been better, without showing so much caution as to his own interests, to have temporized, to have appeared disposed to hand over the letter, to have pretended to have been ignorant of its importance, instead of asking fifty million francs for it? Of course, it was worth it; there was no doubt about that, but it would have been wise to have acted more circumspectly. And if the notary declined to submit to a similar reception? If he strapped up his portmanteau, left St. Malo and returned to Alexandria, how would the problem be solved? Would Captain Antifer have to go to Egypt after his longitude?
And so when he went to bed, he administered to himself quite a shower of hard knocks. He did not close his eyes during the night. The next morning he had firmly resolved to go in search of Ben Omar, to apologize for his rudeness, to enter into an arrangement at the expense of a few slight concessions.
But as he was reflecting on all this, and dressing himself, about eight o’clock, the bargeman gently pushed open the door of his room.
Nanon had sent for him, and he had come, the excellent man, to offer himself to his neighbour’s blows.
“What brings you here?”
“The flood, friend,” said Tregomain, hoping that this maritime location would provoke a smile.
“The flood!” replied Antifer, sternly. “Well, the ebb is just taking me out.”
“You are getting ready to go out?”
“Yes, with or without your permission.”
“Where are you going?”
“Where it suits me to go.”
“Nowhere else, of course, but you do not wish me to know what you are going to do?”
“I am going to repair a mistake.”
“And to make it worse, perhaps?”
This reply, although given as a general observation, made Antifer uneasy. And so he decided to let his friend know what had happened. Continuing his dressing, he told him of his meeting with Ben Omar, of the notary’s attempts to gain possession of the latitude, and his offer to sell the letter for fifty millions of francs.
“He should have made you an offer,” observed Tregomain.
“He had no time, for I turned my back on him—in which I was wrong.”
“That is my opinion. And so this notary came expressly to St. Malo to try and get this letter from you?”
“Instead of giving me the communication he ought to have done. This Ben Omar is the messenger spoken of by Kamylk Pasha, and expected for the last twenty years—”
“Ah, then this matter is serious after all,” Tregomain could not help saying.
The remark brought him such a terrible look and such a contemptuous epithet from Antifer, that he lowered his eyes and twiddled his thumbs after crossing his hands over the vast rotundity of his corporation.
A moment afterwards Antifer had finished dressing, and was picking up his hat when the door opened.
Nanon appeared.
“What is the matter now?” asked her brother.
“There is a stranger downstairs. He wants to speak to you.”
“His name?”
“Here it is.”