He knows that it does not do
to trifle with the rights of men, and he has no interest to retain us;
on the contrary. But to ask a favor of that gentleman does not quite
suit my taste."
"But that gentleman is not in the camp, or at least I have not seen
him here," observed Blount.
"He will come. He will not fail to do that. He must join
the Emir. Siberia is cut in two now, and very certainly Feofar's
army is only waiting for him to advance on Irkutsk."
"And once free, what shall we do?"
"Once free, we will continue our campaign, and follow the Tartars,
until the time comes when we can make our way into the Russian camp.
We must not give up the game. No, indeed; we have only just begun.
You, friend, have already had the honor of being wounded in the service
of the Daily Telegraph, whilst I--I have as yet suffered nothing
in my cousin's service. Well, well! Good," murmured Alcide Jolivet;
"there he is asleep. A few hours' sleep and a few cold water compresses
are all that are required to set an Englishman on his legs again.
These fellows are made of cast iron."
And whilst Harry Blount rested, Alcide watched near him,
after having drawn out his note book, which he loaded with notes,
determined besides to share them with his companion, for the greater
satisfaction of the readers of the Daily Telegraph. Events had
united them one with the other. They were no longer jealous of
each other. So, then, the thing that Michael Strogoff dreaded above
everything was the most lively desire of the two correspondents.
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