"A cab!" she exclaimed indignantly. "I never set foot in one except I am absolutely compelled. Any kind of locomotion you like, except that. I never can bring myself to be shut up in those pill-boxes on wheels. The inaction you are condemned to in them worries and frets me to a degree, and would soon wear me out."
"Miss Poles," replied the painter, with a countenance irresistibly comic in its immobility, "I should like to point out to you that your pedestrian feats, and your activity generally are also wearing you out. You are a model of proportion—and I am only too happy to do you justice in that respect—but, at the same time, on the score of embonpoint, there is, possibly, something to be desired."
"And that," replied Miss Poles, "is entirely due to the life of inaction I have led in England for the last two years. Luxury does not suit my temperament at all. In peace and quietness I lose flesh, to regain it as soon as ever I resume an active existence. At the end of a month of Africa you will not recognize me, and, even now, by reason of the life I am leading in Paris, I have gained a pound."
"Whereabouts?" asked M. de Morin, absorbed in contemplation, and in the futile attempt to discover the exact locality of the vaunted addition.
Dr. Delange was equally zealous in fulfilling the duties which devolved upon him. Having given his word of honour to M. de Morin not to touch a card as long as he remained in Paris, he was anxious to get out of it as quickly as possible, in order that the series of parties, promised under the contract, might commence. But if the gambler in him was still unsubdued and burning with an unabated fever for play, the savant and the doctor combined were equally wide awake. Committed, in an unforeseen and eccentric fashion, to an expedition of which, only a fortnight before, he never dreamt, M. Delange, gambling being out of the question, did not in the least regret the engagement into which he had entered. The study of medicine, to a man gifted with intelligence, anxious to learn, and despising the beaten tracks to knowledge, is a perpetual excursion into unknown lands—a veritable voyage of discovery. Thus, the young doctor, who had hitherto made his voyages and carried out his discoveries in his own study, rejoiced at the idea of exploring on a large scale, and in a more active fashion.
Thanks to the well-known courtesy of M. Malte-Brun, then the editor of the "Annales des Voyages," and a corresponding member of all the Geographical Societies of Europe, as well as a friend of all the great explorers in the world, M. Delange obtained some very valuable information as to the diseases against which he would have to use his skill in Africa, the precautions to be taken to steer clear of them, and the various remedies best suited to the different districts and climates. He also devoted himself, more seriously than he had hitherto done, to the study of Natural History, hoping soon to be able to do good service to that branch of science.
Dr. Desrioux, by way of pleasing Madame de Guéran, placed his services at the disposal of his confrère. He thought of everything, was ever on the watch, and made many suggestions, the value of which, later on and in time of peril, was amply proved. Although he could not leave Paris, he was as deeply interested in everything connected with the projected expedition, as if he were going to form part of it—he was, in fact, its soul.
As for Joseph, he had been beside himself with joy ever since the memorable day when he was informed that he was to take part in the expedition. At last his dreams were about to be realized—an Arab name, a bûrnus, a camel! As for the name, he assumed it at once, without any tender regret for the one he had hitherto borne. At all the shops where he made his purely personal purchases, he gave as his address—Mohammed-Abd-el-Gazal. It appeared to him decidedly more distingué than Joseph, and imbued him with an Eastern tinge.
The camel—well, unfortunately, he would have to wait for that. But when M. de Morin gave him a holiday to say good-bye to his family, Joseph allowed his relatives to slide, as the Americans say, and betook himself to the Jardin des Plantes to gaze on the camels, and study their habits. He even succeeded in inducing one of the keepers to let him lay a tenderly caressing hand on one of those noble coursers of the desert, or as Joseph, ever high-sounding and figurative, would call them, those placid beasts.
Neither did he lose any time in becoming the proud possessor of the most correct and ample of bûrnus, this national garment having been willingly surrendered to him by an Arab servant, whose master was then staying at the Grand-Hôtel. Joseph was perpetually, night and day, trying on this bûrnus, and when he had draped it round him he would solemnly walk up and down his room in the Rue Taitbout. M. de Morin, who had not been apprized of this new caprice of his servant, and was, consequently, not prepared for the metamorphosis, thought, when he returned home one evening, that his rooms were frequented by ghosts.