by Jules Verne
CHAPTER XIV. THE PROFESSOR PERPLEXED
Another month passed away, and it was now September, but it was stillimpossible to leave the warmth of the subterranean retreat for themore airy and commodious quarters of the Hive, where "the bees" wouldcertainly have been frozen to death in their cells. It was altogetherquite as much a matter of congratulation as of regret that the volcanoshowed no symptoms of resuming its activity; for although a return ofthe eruption might have rendered their former resort again habitable,any sudden outbreak would have been disastrous to them where they were,the crater being the sole outlet by which the burning lava could escape.
"A wretched time we have had for the last seven months," said theorderly one day to his master; "but what a comfort little Nina has beento us all!"
"Yes, indeed," replied Servadac; "she is a charming little creature. Ihardly know how we should have got on without her."
"What is to become of her when we arrive back at the earth?"
"Not much fear, Ben Zoof, but that she will be well taken care of.Perhaps you and I had better adopt her."
"Ay, yes," assented the orderly. "You can be her father, and I can beher mother."
Servadac laughed. "Then you and I shall be man and wife."
"We have been as good as that for a long time," observed Ben Zoof,gravely.
By the beginning of October, the temperature had so far moderated thatit could scarcely be said to be intolerable. The comet's distance wasscarcely three times as great from the sun as the earth from the sun, sothat the thermometer rarely sunk beyond 35 degrees below zero. The wholeparty began to make almost daily visits to the Hive, and frequentlyproceeded to the shore, where they resumed their skating exercise,rejoicing in their recovered freedom like prisoners liberated from adungeon. Whilst the rest were enjoying their recreation, Servadac andthe count would hold long conversations with Lieutenant Procope abouttheir present position and future prospects, discussing all manner ofspeculations as to the results of the anticipated collision withthe earth, and wondering whether any measures could be devised formitigating the violence of a shock which might be terrible in itsconsequences, even if it did not entail a total annihilation ofthemselves.
There was no visitor to the Hive more regular than Rosette. Hehad already directed his telescope to be moved back to his formerobservatory, where, as much as the cold would permit him, he persistedin making his all-absorbing studies of the heavens.
The result of these studies no one ventured to inquire; but it becamegenerally noticed that something was very seriously disturbingthe professor's equanimity. Not only would he be seen toiling morefrequently up the arduous way that lay between his nook below and histelescope above, but he would be heard muttering in an angry tone thatindicated considerable agitation.
One day, as he was hurrying down to his study, he met Ben Zoof, who,secretly entertaining a feeling of delight at the professor's manifestdiscomfiture, made some casual remark about things not being verystraight. The way in which his advance was received the good orderlynever divulged, but henceforward he maintained the firm conviction thatthere was something very much amiss up in the sky.
To Servadac and his friends this continual disquietude and ill-humor onthe part of the professor occasioned no little anxiety. From what, theyasked, could his dissatisfaction arise? They could only conjecture thathe had discovered some flaw in his reckonings; and if this were so,might there not be reason to apprehend that their anticipations ofcoming into contact with the earth, at the settled time, might all befalsified?
Day followed day, and still there was no cessation of the professor'sdiscomposure. He was the most miserable of mortals. If really hiscalculations and his observations were at variance, this, in a man ofhis irritable temperament, would account for his perpetual perturbation.But he entered into no explanation; he only climbed up to his telescope,looking haggard and distressed, and when compelled by the frost toretire, he would make his way back to his study more furious than ever.At times he was heard giving vent to his vexation. "Confound it! whatdoes it mean? what is she doing? All behind! Is Newton a fool? Is thelaw of universal gravitation the law of universal nonsense?" And thelittle man would seize his head in both his hands, and tear away at thescanty locks which he could ill afford to lose.
Enough was overheard to confirm the suspicion that there was someirreconcilable discrepancy between the results of his computation andwhat he had actually observed; and yet, if he had been called upon tosay, he would have sooner insisted that there was derangement inthe laws of celestial mechanism, than have owned there was the leastprobability of error in any of his own calculations. Assuredly, if thepoor professor had had any flesh to lose he would have withered away toa shadow.
But this state of things was before long to come to an end. On the 12th,Ben Zoof, who was hanging about outside the great hall of the cavern,heard the professor inside utter a loud cry. Hurrying in to ascertainthe cause, he found Rosette in a state of perfect frenzy, in whichecstasy and rage seemed to be struggling for the predominance.
"Eureka! Eureka!" yelled the excited astronomer.
"What, in the name of peace, do you mean?" bawled Ben Zoof, inopen-mouthed amazement.
"Eureka!" again shrieked the little man.
"How? What? Where?" roared the bewildered orderly.
"Eureka! I say," repeated Rosette; "and if you don't understand me, youmay go to the devil!"
Without availing himself of this polite invitation, Ben Zoof betookhimself to his master. "Something has happened to the professor,"he said; "he is rushing about like a madman, screeching and yelling'Eureka!'"
"Eureka?" exclaimed Servadac. "That means he has made a discovery;" and,full of anxiety, he hurried off to meet the professor.
But, however great was his desire to ascertain what this discoveryimplied, his curiosity was not yet destined to be gratified. Theprofessor kept muttering in incoherent phrases: "Rascal! he shall payfor it yet. I will be even with him! Cheat! Thrown me out!" But he didnot vouchsafe any reply to Servadac's inquiries, and withdrew to hisstudy.
From that day Rosette, for some reason at present incomprehensible,quite altered his behavior to Isaac Hakkabut, a man for whom he hadalways hitherto evinced the greatest repugnance and contempt. All atonce he began to show a remarkable interest in the Jew and his affairs,paying several visits to the dark little storehouse, making inquiries asto the state of business and expressing some solicitude about the stateof the exchequer.
The wily Jew was taken somewhat by surprise, but came to an immediateconclusion that the professor was contemplating borrowing some money; hewas consequently very cautious in all his replies.
It was not Hakkabut's habit ever to advance a loan except at anextravagant rate of interest, or without demanding far more than anadequate security. Count Timascheff, a Russian nobleman, was evidentlyrich; to him perhaps, for a proper consideration, a loan might be made:Captain Servadac was a Gascon, and Gascons are proverbially poor; itwould never do to lend any money to him; but here was a professor,a mere man of science, with circumscribed means; did _he_ expect toborrow? Certainly Isaac would as soon think of flying, as of lendingmoney to him. Such were the thoughts that made him receive all Rosette'sapproaches with a careful reservation.
It was not long, however, before Hakkabut was to be called upon to applyhis money to a purpose for which he had not reckoned. In his eagernessto effect sales, he had parted with all the alimentary articles in hiscargo without having the precautionary prudence to reserve enough forhis own consumption. Amongst other things that failed him was his stockof coffee, and as coffee was a beverage without which he deemed itimpossible to exist, he found himself in considerable perplexity.
He pondered the matter over for a long time, and ultimately persuadedhimself that, after all, the stores were the common property of all,and that he had as much right to a share as anyone else. Accordingly, hemade his way to Ben Zoof, and, in the most amiable tone he could assume,begged as a favor that he would let hi
m have a pound of coffee.
The orderly shook his head dubiously.
"A pound of coffee, old Nathan? I can't say."
"Why not? You have some?" said Isaac.
"Oh yes! plenty--a hundred kilogrammes."
"Then let me have one pound. I shall be grateful."
"Hang your gratitude!"
"Only one pound! You would not refuse anybody else."
"That's just the very point, old Samuel; if you were anybody else,I should know very well what to do. I must refer the matter to hisExcellency."
"Oh, his Excellency will do me justice."
"Perhaps you will find his justice rather too much for you." And withthis consoling remark, the orderly went to seek his master.
Rosette meanwhile had been listening to the conversation, and secretlyrejoicing that an opportunity for which he had been watching hadarrived. "What's the matter, Master Isaac? Have you parted with all yourcoffee?" he asked, in a sympathizing voice, when Ben Zoof was gone.
"Ah! yes, indeed," groaned Hakkabut, "and now I require some for my ownuse. In my little black hole I cannot live without my coffee."
"Of course you cannot," agreed the professor.
"And don't you think the governor ought to let me have it?"
"No doubt."
"Oh, I must have coffee," said the Jew again.
"Certainly," the professor assented. "Coffee is nutritious; it warms theblood. How much do you want?"
"A pound. A pound will last me for a long time."
"And who will weigh it for you?" asked Rosette, scarcely able to concealthe eagerness that prompted the question.
"Why, they will weigh it with my steelyard, of course. There is no otherbalance here." And as the Jew spoke, the professor fancied he coulddetect the faintest of sighs.
"Good, Master Isaac; all the better for you! You will get your sevenpounds instead of one!"
"Yes; well, seven, or thereabouts--thereabouts," stammered the Jew withconsiderable hesitation.
Rosette scanned his countenance narrowly, and was about to probe himwith further questions, when Ben Zoof returned. "And what does hisExcellency say?" inquired Hakkabut.
"Why, Nehemiah, he says he shan't give you any."
"Merciful heavens!" began the Jew.
"He says he doesn't mind selling you a little."
"But, by the holy city, why does he make me pay for what anybody elsecould have for nothing?"
"As I told you before, you are not anybody else; so, come along. Youcan afford to buy what you want. We should like to see the color of yourmoney."
"Merciful heavens!" the old man whined once more.
"Now, none of that! Yes or no? If you are going to buy, say so at once;if not, I shall shut up shop."
Hakkabut knew well enough that the orderly was not a man to be trifledwith, and said, in a tremulous voice, "Yes, I will buy."
The professor, who had been looking on with much interest, betrayedmanifest symptoms of satisfaction.
"How much do you want? What will you charge for it?" asked Isaac,mournfully, putting his hand into his pocket and chinking his money.
"Oh, we will deal gently with you. We will not make any profit. Youshall have it for the same price that we paid for it. Ten francs apound, you know."
The Jew hesitated.
"Come now, what is the use of your hesitating? Your gold will have novalue when you go back to the world."
"What do you mean?" asked Hakkabut, startled.
"You will find out some day," answered Ben Zoof, significantly.
Hakkabut drew out a small piece of gold from his pocket, took it closeunder the lamp, rolled it over in his hand, and pressed it to hislips. "Shall you weigh me the coffee with my steelyard?" he asked, in aquavering voice that confirmed the professor's suspicions.
"There is nothing else to weigh it with; you know that well enough, oldShechem," said Ben Zoof. The steelyard was then produced; a tray wassuspended to the hook, and upon this coffee was thrown until the needleregistered the weight of one pound. Of course, it took seven pounds ofcoffee to do this.
"There you are! There's your coffee, man!" Ben Zoof said.
"Are you sure?" inquired Hakkabut, peering down close to the dial. "Areyou quite sure that the needle touches the point?"
"Yes; look and see."
"Give it a little push, please."
"Why?"
"Because--because--"
"Well, because of what?" cried the orderly, impatiently.
"Because I think, perhaps--I am not quite sure--perhaps the steelyard isnot quite correct."
The words were not uttered before the professor, fierce as a tiger, hadrushed at the Jew, had seized him by the throat, and was shaking himtill he was black in the face.
"Help! help!" screamed Hakkabut. "I shall be strangled."
"Rascal! consummate rascal! thief! villain!" the professor reiterated,and continued to shake the Jew furiously.
Ben Zoof looked on and laughed, making no attempt to interfere; he hadno sympathy with either of the two.
The sound of the scuffling, however, drew the attention of Servadac,who, followed by his companions, hastened to the scene. The combatantswere soon parted. "What is the meaning of all this?" demanded thecaptain.
As soon as the professor had recovered his breath, exhausted by hisexertions, he said, "The old reprobate, the rascal has cheated us! Hissteelyard is wrong! He is a thief!"
Captain Servadac looked sternly at Hakkabut.
"How is this, Hakkabut? Is this a fact?"
"No, no--yes--no, your Excellency, only--"
"He is a cheat, a thief!" roared the excited astronomer. "His weightsdeceive!"
"Stop, stop!" interposed Servadac; "let us hear. Tell me, Hakkabut--"
"The steelyard lies! It cheats! it lies!" roared the irrepressibleRosette.
"Tell me, Hakkabut, I say," repeated Servadac.
The Jew only kept on stammering, "Yes--no--I don't know."
But heedless of any interruption, the professor continued, "Falseweights! That confounded steelyard! It gave a false result! The mass waswrong! The observations contradicted the calculations; they were wrong!She was out of place! Yes, out of place entirely."
"What!" cried Servadac and Procope in a breath, "out of place?"
"Yes, completely," said the professor.
"Gallia out of place?" repeated Servadac, agitated with alarm.
"I did not say Gallia," replied Rosette, stamping his foot impetuously;"I said Nerina."
"Oh, Nerina," answered Servadac. "But what of Gallia?" he inquired,still nervously.
"Gallia, of course, is on her way to the earth. I told you so. But thatJew is a rascal!"
