“But do not the Italian telegraphs assist you?” continued the count.
“Italian! I do not comprehend you. You must mean the Spanish, surely.”
“How?” demanded Timascheff.
“Confound it!” cried the impatient Servadac. “What matters whether it be Spanish or Italian? Tell us, have you had no communication at all from Europe?—no news of any sort from London?”
“Hitherto, none whatever,” replied the colonel; adding with a stately emphasis, “but we shall be sure to have tidings from England before long.”
“Whether England is still in existence or not, I suppose,” said Servadac, in a tone of irony.
The Englishmen started simultaneously to their feet.
“England in existence?” the colonel cried. “England! Ten times more probable that France—”
“France!” shouted Servadac in a passion. “France is not an island that can be submerged; France is an integral portion of a solid continent. France, at least, is safe.”
A scene appeared inevitable, and Count Timascheff’s efforts to conciliate the excited parties were of small avail.