“Bravo!” cried the Brazilian, withdrawing his hand from his pocket. “Take that as part of my ticket. And excuse me a moment while I make arrangements.”
He disappeared through the reed portière, leaving Gaston to admire five shining napoleons. It gave him an odd sensation to see, after so long, those coins of his country. When Magin finally came back, it was through the inner door.
“Tell me: how much can you carry?” he asked. “I have four boxes I would like to take with me, besides a few small things. These fools might wreck themselves at Ahwaz and lose everything in the river. It would annoy me very much—after all the trouble I have had to collect my objects of virtue! Besides, the tub will get through more easily without them. Come in and see.”
“Mon Dieu!” exclaimed Gaston, scratching his head, when he saw. “My boat won’t get through more easily with them, especially at night.” He looked curiously around the cozy stateroom.
“But it will take them, eh? If necessary, we can land them at Ahwaz and have them carried around the rapids.”
The thing took some manœuvring; but the Lurs, with the help of much fluent profanity from their master, finally accomplished it without sinking the motor-boat. Gaston, sitting at the wheel to guard his precious engine against some clumsiness of the black-hatted mountaineers, looked on with humorous astonishment at this turn of affairs. He was destined, it appeared, to be disappointed in his hope of cheer. That cognac was really very good—if only one had had more of it. Still, one at least had company now; and he was not the man to be insensible to the fine champagne of the unexpected. Nor was he unconscious that of many baroque scenes at which he had assisted, this was not the least baroque.
When the fourth chest had gingerly been lowered into place, Magin vanished again. Presently he reappeared, followed by his majordomo, to whom he gave instructions in a low voice. Then he stepped into the stern of the boat. The majordomo, taking two portmanteaux and a rug from the Lurs behind him, handed them down to Gaston. Having disposed of them, Gaston stood up, his eyes on the Lurs who crowded the rail.
“Well, my friend,” said Magin gaily, “for whom are you waiting? We shall yet have opportunities to admire the romantic scenery of the Karun!”
“Ah! Monsieur takes no—other object of virtue with him?”
“Have you so much room?” laughed Magin. “It is a good thing there is no wind to-night. Go ahead.”