Читать книгу Travel Scholarships - Jules Verne - Страница 12

2 Mrs. Seymour’s Ideas

A voyage to diverse islands in the West Indies is what Mrs. Seymour’s generosity had reserved for them! Indeed, it seemed that the laureates had every reason to be pleased.

Of course they would have to give up any ideas of faraway explorations through Africa, Asia, Oceania, or lesser-known regions of the new continents, as well as to the South or North Poles!

Nevertheless, even if at the beginning there was a slight feeling of disappointment in having to come back from their world of dreams faster than they had departed, if it was nothing more than a trip to the Antilles, it was nonetheless a pleasant way to spend their next vacation, and Mr. Ardagh made the laureates clearly understand all its advantages.

In reality, were these Antilles not, after all, their native land? Most of them had left when they were still infants in order to come to Europe to do their studies. They had barely trod upon the soil of those islands that had witnessed their birth, barely preserved any memory of them!

Even though—with one exception—their families had left the archipelago behind with no thoughts of returning, there were some students who would still find some family or friends there. Everything considered, for the young Antilleans this would be a fine voyage.

The extent of this can be judged according to the personal situation of each of the nine laureates to whom the travel scholarships were attributed.

First, those who were English, and in larger numbers at the Antillean School:

Roger Hinsdale, from Saint Lucia, twenty years old, whose family, retired from their business with great wealth, lived in London;

John Howard, from Dominica, eighteen years old, whose parents had come to settle in Manchester as industrialists;

Hubert Perkins, from Antigua, seventeen years old, whose family, composed of father, mother, and two young sisters, had never left their native island and who, once his education was finished, was supposed to return there to join a commercial firm.

Next are the French, who numbered about a dozen at the Antillean School:

Louis Clodion, from Guadeloupe, twenty years old, part of a family of ship merchants who settled in Nantes many years ago;

Tony Renault, from Martinique, seventeen years old, the oldest of four children, related to a family of government officials who worked in Paris.

Now the Danes’ turn:

Niels Harboe, from Saint Thomas, nineteen years old, having neither father nor mother, and whose brother, older than him by six years, was still in the Antilles;

Axel Wickborn, from Saint Croix, nineteen years old, whose family was in the wood business in Denmark, in Copenhagen.

The Dutch were represented by Albertus Leuwen, from Saint Martin, twenty years old, an only child whose parents lived in the outskirts of Rotterdam.

As for Magnus Anders, Swedish, born in Saint Barthélemy, nineteen years old, his family had come recently to settle in Gotteborg, Sweden, and had not yet given up the idea of going back there once their fortune was made.

In truth, this voyage that would bring them back for a few weeks to their country of origin was the perfect choice for those young Antilleans. Who knows if the majority of them would have ever had the opportunity to see the islands again? Only Louis Clodion had an uncle, his mother’s brother, in Guadeloupe; Niels Harboe, a brother in Saint Thomas; and Hubert Perkins his whole family in Antigua. But their classmates no longer had any family ties in the other Antillean islands; their island homes had been abandoned without any intent of returning.

The oldest of the laureates were Roger Hinsdale, a bit haughty, Louis Clodion, a serious and hard-working boy and nice to everyone, and Albertus Leuwen, whose Dutch blood had not warmed up under the Antillean sun. After them came Niels Harboe, whose vocation had not yet revealed itself; Magnus Anders, very passionate about all things having to do with the sea, and who was preparing to enter into the mercantile navy; and Axel Wickborn, whose talents would lead him to serve in the Danish army. Then, listed by age, John Howard, a little less “Anglicized” than his compatriot Roger Hinsdale; and finally the two youngest ones, Hubert Perkins, destined for commerce, as has been said, and Tony Renault, whose fondness for rowing could very well develop into a fondness for a sailor’s life in the future.

Presently, there remained the rather important question of whether this voyage would include all the Antilles, Greater and Lesser, Windward and Leeward Islands. A complete exploration of the archipelago would have required more than the few weeks that the laureates had available. Indeed, there are no less than three hundred and fifty islands or islets in the West Indian archipelago, and even if it were possible to visit one per day, it would be necessary to dedicate a whole year to such brief visits.

No! Those were not Mrs. Kathleen Seymour’s intentions. The Antillean School boarders would have to limit themselves to spending just a few days on his own island, to visiting any relatives or friends that were there, and to walking again on their native soil.

Under these conditions, obviously, one would first have to eliminate from the itinerary the Greater Antilles, Cuba, Haiti, Santo Domingo, and Puerto Rico, since their Spanish schoolmates had not ranked high enough in the competition; Jamaica, since none of the laureates was from that British colony; and Curacao, a Dutch one, for the same reason. Likewise for the Lesser Antilles, which, under Venezuelan domination, would not be visited: Tortigos, Marguerite, Tortuga, Blanquilla, Ordeilla, or Avas.

Thus, the only islands of the Micro-Antilles where the recipients of the scholarships would set foot would be: Saint Lucia, Dominica, Antigua—English; Guadeloupe, Martinique—French; Saint Thomas, Saint Croix—Danish; Saint Barthélemy—Swedish; and Saint Martin, half of which belongs to the Netherlands, the other half to France.

These nine islands were included in the geographical grouping of the Windward Islands, and each would be a port of call for the boarders of the Antillean School.

Nonetheless, no one will be surprised to learn that a tenth island had been added to that itinerary, one which would no doubt receive the longest and the most worthwhile visit.

It was Barbados, in the same group of the Windward Islands, one of the most important ones in the colonial domain that the United Kingdom possesses in those parts.

There, of course, lived Mrs. Seymour. It was the very least that the students, who were in her debt and felt a very natural feeling of gratitude, could do to honor her.

One can easily imagine how, since this generous English woman insisted on receiving the nine laureates from the Antillean School, they, for their part, felt the most urgent desire to meet the wealthy Barbados native and to express their thanks.

These nine islands were included in the geographical grouping of the Windward Islands.

They would not regret it either. A postscript in the letter, which was read by Mr. Julian Ardagh, showed just how far Mrs. Seymour’s generosity to them extended.

Indeed, in addition to the expenses that this voyage would incur—expenses for which she would assume total responsibility—a sum of seven hundred pounds sterling¹ would be given to each one of them at the moment of their departure from Barbados.

As for the duration of this trip, would the vacation time be enough? Yes, provided that the start allowed by the rules be moved up one month, which would allow the crossing of the Atlantic to be accomplished during good weather both going and coming.

In sum, nothing was more acceptable than these conditions, which were received enthusiastically. There was no reason to worry that the families would object to a voyage so delightful and beneficial from all points of view. Taking into account any possible delays, they could assign between seven and eight weeks to the trip, and the young scholarship-recipients would then return to Europe, their hearts filled with unforgettable memories of their cherished islands on the new continent.

Finally, one last question came up, which quickly became a concern for the families.

Would the laureates be left to themselves, since the oldest among them had not yet reached his twenty-first birthday? In short, would there be no teacher’s hand to guide them, to look after them? While they visited this archipelago belonging to different European states, were certain discords to be feared—jealousies and disputes—if various questions of nationality surfaced? Would they forget that they were all Antilleans and boarders at the same school, when Mr. Ardagh would no longer be there to provide his wise and cautious guidance?

The Antillean School director reflected on these possible difficulties. If he was not able to accompany his students himself, he wondered who would be able to replace him in this task, a task that might prove at times to be somewhat arduous.

Moreover, this question had not escaped Mrs. Seymour’s very practical mind. And we will see how she had resolved it, since the prudent lady would have never allowed the young men to be completely free from all authority during this voyage.

Now, how would the crossing of the Atlantic take place? Would it be on board one of those ships that travel regularly between England and the Antilles? Would berths be held, and cabins reserved in the name of each of the nine laureates?

We repeat, they were not to spend any of their own money on this trip, and even an expense of this sort would not be taken from the seven hundred pounds that they would receive upon leaving Barbados to return to Europe.

In fact, there was a paragraph in Mrs. Seymour’s letter that addressed this specific question in the following terms:

“The transportation across the ocean will be paid out of my own funds. A ship, chartered for the Antilles, will await its passengers at the port of Cork, in Queenstown, Ireland. That ship is the Alert, commanded by Captain Paxton, which is ready to sail and whose departure is set for June 30. Captain Paxton expects to welcome his passengers at that time, and he will weigh anchor as soon as they arrive.”

Undoubtedly, the young men were going to travel if not like princes, at least like yachtsmen. A ship would be at their disposal to take them to the West Indies and to bring them back to England! Mrs. Seymour knew how to arrange things! She was seeing to everything in magnificent fashion, this Maecenas from Albion!² Truthfully, if millionaires always spent their millions on such good works, one would only wish them to possess more, many more!

So it came to be that, in this small world of the Antillean School, if their classmates already envied the laureates when this generous lady’s terms were still unknown, their envy grew to its highest once they learned the conditions of pleasure and comfort in which this voyage would take place.

As for the nine young men themselves, they were thrilled. Reality was meeting their fondest dreams. After crossing the Atlantic, it would be on board their yacht that they would visit the main islands of the Antillean archipelago.

“And when do we leave?” they said.

“Tomorrow …”

“Today …”

“No, we still have six days,” observed the wisest ones.

“Ah! I wish I were already aboard the Alert!” repeated Magnus Anders. “Aboard our own ship!” replied Tony Renault.

And they did not want to acknowledge that there were still some preparations to be made to prepare for this transoceanic voyage.

In the first place, it was necessary to consult their parents, to ask for and obtain their permission, since it was a matter of sending the laureates, not to the Other world, but all the same to the New one.³ Mr. Julian Ardagh also had to measure up to the task. This expedition, which would last perhaps two and a half months, required him to make certain basic provisions for them; to acquire clothing and more particularly sea gear, boots, sou’westers, polished greatcoats, in a word, all the accoutrements of a sailor.

Then, the director would have to choose the trustworthy person to be responsible for these young men. Granted, they were old enough to behave themselves, reasonable enough to do without a guardian. But it was prudent to add a mentor who would have authority over them. That was indeed the intention of the wise Mrs. Seymour, expressed in her letter, and they had to conform to it.

Needless to say, the families would have to be convinced to agree to the terms Mr. Ardagh would announce to them. Among the young men, some would meet relatives in the Antilles that they had not seen for many years—Hubert Perkins in Antigua, Louis Clodion in Guadeloupe, Niels Harboe in Saint Thomas. It would be an unexpected chance to see each other again, and under exceptionally delightful circumstances.

It is true that these families had been kept informed by the director of the Antillean School. They already knew that a contest would put the various classmates into competition with each other in order to obtain the travel scholarships. After receiving the results, when they learned that the laureates were going to visit the West Indies, Mr. Ardagh was sure it would be like a dream come true for them.

In the meantime, Mr. Ardagh considered the choice he had to make concerning the leader who would be at the head of this traveling class, the mentor whose advice would maintain harmony among these budding Telemachuses.⁴ The question was not without some complexity. Would he ask the one professor at the Antillean School who seemed to fulfill all the conditions required in this case? But this academic year had not yet ended. Impossible to interrupt classes before vacation. The teaching staff needed to remain intact.

It was for this very reason that Mr. Ardagh did not think he could accompany the nine scholarship-recipients himself. His presence was needed during the last school months and it was important that he attend in person the distribution of diplomas on August 7.

So, apart from the professors and himself, did he have among his staff precisely the perfect person, a serious and reputedly methodical man who would fulfill his duties conscientiously, who deserved all his trust, who was generally liked, and whom the young travelers would gladly accept as mentor?

The question remained to know whether this person would consent to make this trip, if he would be agreeable to venturing to the other side of the sea.

On the morning of June 24, five days before the date set for the departure of the Alert, Mr. Ardagh sent for Mr. Patterson to come to his office for an important discussion.

Mr. Patterson, the Antillean School’s bookkeeper, was busy verifying his accounts from the night before, as was his invariable habit, when Mr. Ardagh summoned him.

Mr. Patterson, lifting his glasses up to his forehead, answered the servant who was standing at the door, saying:

“I will go to the director’s office without wasting a single moment.” And, putting his glasses back in place, Mr. Patterson picked up his pen once more to finish the leg of a “9” that he was writing at the bottom of the expenses column of a large book. Then, with his ebony ruler, he drew a line under the column with numbers whose addition he had just completed. Then, after having lightly shaken his pen over the ink well, he dipped it several times in the lead jar that kept it clean, dried it extremely carefully, placed it near the ruler on his desk, turned the inkwell’s pump to put the ink back in, placed the sheet of carbon paper on the expenses page, taking special care not to alter the leg of the nine, closed the register, placed it inside its special case inside the desk, put back in their box the eraser, the pencil, and the rubber band, blew on his blotting paper to chase away some dust, stood up while pushing back his armchair with the leather seat, took off his oversleeves and hung them on a peg near the fireplace, gave a quick brush to his frock coat, his vest, and his pants, grabbed his hat, which he shone with his elbow, secured it on his head, put on his black leather gloves as if he were making an official visit to an important person at the University, looked one last time in the mirror, verified that everything was irreproachable in his appearance, took the scissors and cut a strand of his sideburns that went over the allowed line, checked that his handkerchief and his wallet were in his pocket, opened his office door, passed over the threshold and closed it carefully with one of the seventeen keys that rattled on his key chain, went down the stairs that lead to the main courtyard, crossed it diagonally with a slow and steady step to arrive at the building that housed Mr. Ardagh’s office, stopped in front of the door, pressed the electric button that made a warbling ring inside, and waited.⁵

It was only at that moment that Mr. Patterson asked himself, scratching his forehead with his index finger:

“What could the Director have to say to me?”

Indeed, at this hour of the morning, the invitation to come to Mr. Ardagh’s office probably seemed unusual to Mr. Patterson, whose mind filled up with diverse hypotheses.

You be the judge. Mr. Patterson’s watch was only showing nine forty-seven, and one could trust this precision instrument which did not vary for even a second per day, and whose regularity equaled that of its owner. Never, no, never! Mr. Patterson never came to see Mr. Ardagh before eleven forty-three to give him his daily report on the financial status of the Antillean School, although it was not unprecedented that he arrive between the forty-second and forty-third minute.

Mr. Patterson had to guess, and he imagined that an entirely special circumstance was taking place, since the director was asking for him before he had balanced the expenses and receipts from the day before. He would finish that balance when he got back, in fact, and one can be certain that no error would occur because of this unusual disturbance.⁶

The door opened by pulling on a cord attached to the concierge’s lodgings.

Mr. Patterson took a few steps—five, as was his custom—into the hall, and he knocked discreetly on the sign of a second door that read Director’s office.

“Enter,” was the quick response.

Mr. Patterson took off his hat, brushed off the specks of dust on his boots, readjusted his gloves and came into an office well lit by two windows with blinds halfway closed, and a view of the main courtyard.

Mr. Ardagh, looking at several papers, was sitting behind his desk, which was equipped with several electric buttons. Looking up, he gave Mr. Patterson a friendly sign. “You called for me to come to your office, Mr. Director?” said Mr. Patterson.

“Yes, Mr. Patterson,”⁷ answered Mr. Ardagh, “and to talk to you about a situation that concerns you personally.”

Then, pointing to a chair placed near the desk:

“Please, take a seat,” he added.

Mr. Patterson sat down, after carefully lifting the tails of his long coat, one hand resting on his knee, the other holding his hat against his chest.

Mr. Ardagh began to speak:

“You are aware, Mr. Patterson,” he said, “of the results of the competition open to our boarders to obtain certain travel scholarships.”

“I am familiar with it, Mr. Director,” answered Mr. Patterson, “and my thought is that this generous initiative from one of our colonial compatriots is an honor for the Antillean School.”

Mr. Patterson spoke deliberately, making each syllable of the words he chose to use count, and stressing them not without a hint of preciosity when they escaped his lips.

“You are also aware,” continued Mr. Ardagh, “of the use that must be made of those scholarships.”

“I am not unaware of it, Mr. Director,” answered Mr. Patterson, who, bowing, seemed to greet with his hat someone on the other side of the ocean. “Mrs. Seymour is a lady whose name will long echo in posterity. It would be very difficult to make better use of the riches that her birthright and her work have afforded her than to benefit these youths who are eager to travel.”

“That is what I think also, Mr. Patterson. But let us get to the point. You are equally aware of the conditions under which this trip to the Antilles must be made?”

“I have been so informed, Mr. Director. A ship will await our young travelers, and I hope for their sake that they will not have to beg Neptune to cast his famous Quos ego⁸ onto the wrathful waves of the Atlantic!”

“I hope so, too, Mr. Patterson, since the crossing both going and coming will take place during the dry season.”

“Indeed,” answered the accountant. “For the capricious Tethys,⁹ July and August are her favorite months to rest.”

“Also,” added Mr. Ardagh, “this voyage will not be any less pleasurable for my laureates than for the person who will accompany them during the voyage.”

“A person,” said Mr. Patterson, “who will have the most joyous task of presenting to Mrs. Seymour the respectful praises and warm gratitude of the boarders at the Antillean School.”

“I regret,” continued the director, “that this person cannot be me. For, at the end of the school year, on the eve of the exams over which I have to preside, my absence is impossible.”

Mr. Patterson could not repress a gesture of surprise.

“Impossible, Mr. Director,” answered the accountant, “and he who will be summoned to take your place will indeed be fortunate.”

“Surely, I had many choices. But I needed a trustworthy man on whom I could count completely and who would be accepted without reservations by the families of the young scholarship-recipients. Well, I found this man in the personnel of the establishment.”

“I congratulate you, Mr. Director. It is, no doubt, one of the science or humanities professors.”

“No, because it is not acceptable to interrupt classes before vacation. But, it seemed to me that this interruption would be less of a problem for the financial situation of the school, and it is you, Mr. Patterson, whom I have chosen to accompany our young men to the Antilles.”

Mr. Patterson could not repress a gesture of surprise. Standing up, he had taken off his glasses.

“Me … Mr. Director? … ,” he asked in a rather troubled voice.

“Yes, you, Mr. Patterson, and I am sure that the bookkeeping of this voyage of scholarship-recipients will be as accurately maintained as that of our school.”

Mr. Patterson, with the corner of his handkerchief, wiped the lenses of his glasses, blurred by the mist in his eyes.

“I must add,” said Mr. Ardagh, “that, thanks to Mrs. Seymour’s munificence, an amount of seven hundred pounds has also been reserved for the mentor who will have the honor of overseeing these important functions. I will ask you, then, Mr. Patterson, to be ready to leave in five days.”