Michael Strogoff | Page 3

the contrary, lively and petulant,
expressed himself with lips, eyes, hands, all at once, having twenty
different ways of explaining his thoughts, whereas his interlocutor
seemed to have only one, immutably stereotyped on his brain.
The strong contrast they presented would at once have struck the most
superficial observer; but a physiognomist, regarding them closely,
would have defined their particular characteristics by saying, that if the
Frenchman was "all eyes," the Englishman was "all ears."
In fact, the visual apparatus of the one had been singularly perfected by
practice. The sensibility of its retina must have been as instantaneous as

that of those conjurors who recognize a card merely by a rapid
movement in cutting the pack or by the arrangement only of marks
invisible to others. The Frenchman indeed possessed in the highest
degree what may be called "the memory of the eye."
The Englishman, on the contrary, appeared especially organized to
listen and to hear. When his aural apparatus had been once struck by
the sound of a voice he could not forget it, and after ten or even twenty
years he would have recognized it among a thousand. His ears, to be
sure, had not the power of moving as freely as those of animals who are
provided with large auditory flaps; but, since scientific men know that
human ears possess, in fact, a very limited power of movement, we
should not be far wrong in affirming that those of the said Englishman
became erect, and turned in all directions while endeavoring to gather
in the sounds, in a manner apparent only to the naturalist. It must be
observed that this perfection of sight and hearing was of wonderful
assistance to these two men in their vocation, for the Englishman acted
as correspondent of the Daily Telegraph, and the Frenchman, as
correspondent of what newspaper, or of what newspapers, he did not
say; and when asked, he replied in a jocular manner that he
corresponded with "his cousin Madeleine." This Frenchman, however,
neath his careless surface, was wonderfully shrewd and sagacious.
Even while speaking at random, perhaps the better to hide his desire to
learn, he never forgot himself. His loquacity even helped him to
conceal his thoughts, and he was perhaps even more discreet than his
confrere of the Daily Telegraph. Both were present at this fete given at
the New Palace on the night of the 15th of July in their character of
reporters.
It is needless to say that these two men were devoted to their mission in
the world--that they delighted to throw themselves in the track of the
most unexpected intelligence--that nothing terrified or discouraged
them from succeeding--that they possessed the imperturbable sang
froid and the genuine intrepidity of men of their calling. Enthusiastic
jockeys in this steeplechase, this hunt after information, they leaped
hedges, crossed rivers, sprang over fences, with the ardor of
pure-blooded racers, who will run "a good first" or die!

Their journals did not restrict them with regard to money-- the surest,
the most rapid, the most perfect element of information known to this
day. It must also be added, to their honor, that neither the one nor the
other ever looked over or listened at the walls of private life, and that
they only exercised their vocation when political or social interests
were at stake. In a word, they made what has been for some years
called "the great political and military reports."
It will be seen, in following them, that they had generally an
independent mode of viewing events, and, above all, their
consequences, each having his own way of observing and appreciating.
The French correspondent was named Alcide Jolivet. Harry Blount was
the name of the Englishman. They had just met for the first time at this
fete in the New Palace, of which they had been ordered to give an
account in their papers. The dissimilarity of their characters, added to a
certain amount of jealousy, which generally exists between rivals in the
same calling, might have rendered them but little sympathetic.
However, they did not avoid each other, but endeavored rather to
exchange with each other the chat of the day. They were sportsmen,
after all, hunting on the same ground. That which one missed might be
advantageously secured by the other, and it was to their interest to meet
and converse.
This evening they were both on the look out; they felt, in fact, that there
was something in the air.
"Even should it be only a wildgoose chase," said Alcide Jolivet to
himself, "it may be worth powder and shot."
The two correspondents therefore began by cautiously sounding each
other.
"Really, my dear sir, this little fete is charming!" said Alcide Jolivet
pleasantly, thinking himself obliged to begin the conversation with this
eminently