Cæsar Cascabel/Part 1/Chapter XVI

CHAPTER XVI. FAREWELL TO THE NEW CONTINENT.
AND now, the only thing was to carry out the prearranged journey toward Europe.

All being well considered, the plan showed fair chances of success. Since the checkered course of their gypsy lives brought the Cascabels through Russia, nay more, through the very Government of Perm, the best thing Count Sergius Narkine could really do was to join them for the rest of the journey. How could it be suspected that the political prisoner who had made his escape from Siberia was among the artists of a showman's caravan? If no indiscretion was committed, success was sure; and, once in Perm, after he had seen Prince Wassili Narkine, the Count would shape his course to the best of his interests. Having crossed Asia without leaving behind him any clue that the police might get hold of, he would make up his mind according to circumstances.

On the other hand, it is true, if he were recognized along the road, unlikely as it seemed, it might have terrible consequences for him, and for the Cascabels too. But neither Mr. Cascabel nor his wife would take that danger into account, and, had they consulted their children on the subject, the latter would have approved of their conduct. Still Count Narkine's secret should be strictly kept; their traveling companion would continue to be Mr. Sergius.

Later on, Count Narkine would be in a position to acknowledge the devotion of these good French people, although Mr. Cascabel would hear of no other reward than the pleasure of obliging him, while, at the same time, outwitting the Russian police.

Unfortunately,—an event which neither of them could anticipate,—their plans were about being seriously compromised, at the very start.

At their landing on the opposite shore, they would straight away be exposed to the greatest dangers, and, doubtless, arrested by the Russian agents in Siberia.

Sure enough, the very day after the conclusion of this new arrangement, two men were talking, up and down one end of the harbor, where no one could hear their conversation.

They were the two agents we have already named, and who had been surprised and puzzled by the presence of Mr. Sergius among the occupants of the Fair Rambler.

Residing at Sitka for several years past, and intrusted with the political surveillance of the province, it was their duty (it has been said) to spy the doings of the refugees in the neighborhood of the Columbian frontier, to report them to the Governor of Alaska, and to arrest any of them who should attempt to cross the border.

Now a serious matter it was, that, if they had no personal knowledge of Count Narkine, they had been given his description at the time of his escape from the Iakoutsk citadel. On the arrival of the Cascabel family at Port Clarence, they were astonished at the sight of this Russian, who had neither the gait nor the manners of an itinerant artist. How did he happen to be among these show people, who, coming from Sacramento, followed so strange a route to return to Europe?

Their suspicions once aroused, they had made inquiries, had taken observations, cleverly enough not to excite attention, and after comparison of Mr. Sergius with the description they had in hand of Count Narkine, their doubts had given place to a feeling of certainty.

“Yes, this is indeed Count Narkine!” said one of the agents. “No doubt he was roaming about the frontiers of Alaska until the province would be annexed, when he fell in with those gypsies, who came to his help, and now he is preparing to cross over to Siberia with them!”

Nothing more accurate; and if, at first, Mr. Sergius had had no thought of venturing beyond Port Clarence, the two agents felt no surprise whatever when they heard that he had resolved to follow the Fair Rambler beyond the strait.

“That is a good windfall for us!” answered the second agent. “Had the Count remained here, on American soil, we dared not have arrested him,”

“While, now, as soon as he sets his foot on the other side of the strait,” continued the former, “he will be on Russian territory, and he cannot escape us if we be there to receive him in our arms!”

“That's an arrest that will be to our greater glory—and profit! what a master-stroke for our coming home! But how shall we go about it?”

“It's very simple! The Cascabels will start off presently; and as they will take the shortest cut, there is no doubt but they will make for the port of Numana. Well, if we get there before, or even at the same time as Count Narkine, we shall have nothing to do but collar him!”

“Quite so, but I would rather be at Numana before him, so as to warn the coast police, who might lend us a hand in case of need!”

“That's what we shall do, if possible. These showmen will be obliged to wait until the ice is strong enough to bear their wagon, and we can easily get ahead of them. Let us stay here then, in the meantime, and keep our eye on Count Narkine without letting him know. Even though he must mistrust Russian officials on their way home from Alaska, he cannot possibly guess that we have recognized him. And so, he will surely make a start; we shall arrest him at Numana, and then conduct him, under safe escort, to Petropaulovski or to Iakoutsk.”

“And if his acrobats wanted to defend him.”

“Well, they will pay dearly for having helped a political exile to return to Russia!”

So simple a plan was fated to succeed, since the Count was utterly unaware of his having been recognized, since the Cascabels had no idea that they were the object of special surveillance. And so the journey, so auspiciously commenced, ran the risk of having a sad termination for Mr. Sergius and his companions.

And, while this plot was being devised, they were all enjoying the prospective happiness of remaining together, of starting together for Russia. What joy it was for John and Kayette especially!

Needless to say that the two police agents had kept to themselves the secret they were going to work out. And no one at Port Clarence could have imagined that so important a personage as Count Sergius Narkine was under the roof of the Fair Rambler.

Meanwhile, it had not been found possible, yet, to fix a day for the departure. They watched with the greatest impatience every change in the temperature,—a truly anomalous temperature,—and never in his life had Mr. Cascabel so ardently wished for such a frost “as the rocks themselves could not stand.”

Still, it was of importance that they should be on the other side of the strait ere winter had taken complete possession of those regions. As it would attain its greatest severity only during the first weeks of November, the Fair Rambler would have time to reach the southern regions of Siberia. There, in some village or other, they would wait for the favorable season to push on to the Ural mountains.

Under these conditions, Vermont and Gladiator could traverse the steppes without too much fatigue. The Cascabel family would reach Perm just in time for the fair, that is, by the month of July of the following year.

And those icebergs kept on forever drifting north, carried on by the warm current of the Pacific! That ever restless flotilla of ice kept on shifting about in the strait instead of the long-looked-for compact and steady mass!

On the 13th of October, however, the drifting seemed to slacken. To the north, to all appearance, a blockade stopped the way. And sure enough, far away in the horizon, you could see a continuous line of white peaks, a sure sign that the Arctic Sea was now wholly frozen. The white glare reflected by the ice filled the sky; the entire solidification could not tarry long.

Now and again Mr. Sergius and John would consult the fishermen at Port Clarence. Several times already both had thought that the crossing might be attempted; but the seamen, who “knew every inch of the strait,” had advised them to wait.

“Don't be in a hurry,” they would say. “Let the frost do its work! It hasn't been hard enough yet! And then, even if the water was all frozen on this side of the strait, there is nothing to show that it is so on the other, especially in the neighborhood of the Isle of Diomede.”

And the advice was a wise one.

“Winter is not very forward, this year!” said Mr. Sergius to a fisherman, one day.

“No,” the man replied, “it is rather late. And that's another reason why you should not hurry before you are sure that you can get across. And then again, your wagon is heavier than a man on foot; it needs greater strength under it. Wait till a good fall of snow brings all the icebergs to a level, and then you can fire away, the same as on a highroad! Besides, you'll soon make up for lost time, and you won't have run the risk of remaining in distress, fair in the middle of the strait!”

Such reasoning should needs be heeded, coming as it did from practical men. And so, Mr. Sergius did his utmost to calm his friend Cascabel, who proved the most impatient of the party. The chief point was to endanger, by no imprudent act, either the success of the journey or the safety of the travelers.

“Come,” he would say to him, “be calm and reasonable! your Fair Rambler is not a boat, and if it got caught between two ill-joined blocks of ice, it would not be long going to the bottom. The Cascabel family has no need of increasing its celebrity by seeking a watery grave in the strait of Behring!”

“And would it be increased thereby?” replied the vain Cæsar, with a smile.

In any case Cornelia intervened and distinctly stated she would allow no imprudence to be committed.

“Why, it's on your account, Mr. Sergius, that we are in such a hurry!” exclaimed Mr. Cascabel.

“Well, I, my friend, am in no hurry concerning you!” Count Narkine replied.

In spite of the general feeling of impatience, John and Kayette did not feel the time weigh heavily on their hands.

He continued to be her teacher. Already she was beginning to talk and understand French fairly well. Between them there was now no difficulty to understand one another. And then Kayette was so happy in this home, so happy near John, who was all attention to her! In very truth, Mr. and Mrs. Cascabel should have been blind not to see what kind of a feeling she had awakened in their son. Indeed they were growing uneasy about it. They knew what Mr. Sergius was, and what Kayette would be one day. She was no longer the poor Indian girl, on her way to beg a situation as a servant at Sitka; she was the adopted daughter of Count Narkine. And John was preparing a world of bitter disappointment for himself in the future.

“After all,” Mr. Cascabel would say, “Mr. Sergius has eyes to see with; he is very well aware of what is going on! Well, Cornelia, if he says nothing, we have nothing to say, either!”

One day, John asked the young girl:

“Are you pleased, little Kayette, to be going to Europe?”

“To Europe? Yes!” replied she. “But I should be better pleased still to be going to France!”

“You are right. A fine country, and a good country is ours! If ever it could become yours, you would like it.”

“I would like any country where your people would be, John, and my greatest desire is to leave you no more!”

“Dear little Kayette!”

“It is very far to France?”

“Any country is far away, Kayette, when you long to be there? But we shall arrive—too soon perhaps—”

“Why so, John?”

“Because you shall stay in Russia with Mr. Sergius! If we do not part here, we shall have to part there! Mr. Sergius will keep you, little Kayette! He will make a fine young lady of you; and we shall never see you again!”

“Why talk like that, John? Mr. Sergius is good and grateful. It was not I that saved his life, it was you, yes, it was you! If you had not been there, what could I have done for him? If he is alive now, it is to your mother, it is to you all that he owes it! Do you think Mr. Sergius can forget it? If we do part, John, why do you say it will be for ever?”

“I do not say so, little Kayette!” answered John, who could no longer contain his emotion. “But,—I fear so! Never see you again, Kayette! If you knew how unhappy I should be! And then, it is not merely to see you I should have wished. Look, since you are alone in the world, why cannot our home be enough for you! My father and mother love you so.”

“Not more than I love them, John!”

“'And my brother and sister too! I had cherished the hope that they would have been a sister and a brother for you!”

“So they will always be. And you, John?”

“I—I should be—a brother too, little Kayette,—but more devoted—more loving!”

And John went no farther. He had seized Kayette's hand, he pressed it in his. Then he went away, unwilling to say more. Kayette, full of emotion, felt her heart throbbing violently, and a tear dropped from her eye.

On the 15th of October, the seamen about Port Clarence informed Mr. Sergius that he might get ready to go. The cold had become more intense for the last few days. The mean temperature did not now rise to ten degrees Centigrade below zero. The ice-field appeared absolutely motionless. They no longer could hear even those significant crackling sounds that can be noticed before the blocks of ice are completely cemented together.

It was probable they would presently witness the arrival of some of those natives of Asia, who cross the strait during the winter and carry on a certain amount of trading between Numana and Port Clarence. This roadway indeed, is rather largely frequented at times. It is no unusual thing for sleighs, drawn by dogs or by reindeer, to go from one continent to the other, covering in two or three days the sixty miles that separate the two nearest points of the respective shores. This spot affords, then, a natural thoroughfare, opened at the beginning and closed at the end of winter, say, practically, for over six months. But care must be taken not to start either too soon or too late, so as to avoid the frightful catastrophes that would result from a breaking up of the ice.

In view of the journey through Siberia until the day when the Fair Rambler would halt to take up its winter quarters, Mr. Sergius had purchased, at Port Clarence, various articles of absolute necessity on a journey accomplished in such climes, among others several pair of those snow-shoes which the Indians put on like skates, and which enable them to skim swiftly over a vast extent of frozen ground. Itinerant “artists” needed no very long apprenticeship to become familiar with them. Within a few days, John and Sander had become expert “snow-racers” by practicing on the frozen creeks along the shore.

Mr. Sergius had also completed the stock of furs bought at Fort Yukon. It was not sufficient for the travelers to wrap themselves up in those warm furs to preserve themselves against the cold, they should likewise pad the compartments of the Fair Rambler with them, cover the beds, the partitions, and the floor with them, so as to keep up the heat generated by the kitchen stove. Besides,—too great emphasis could not be laid on it,—the strait once traveled over, Mr. Cascabel's intention was to spend the hardest months of winter in one of the villages that are to be found in the southern districts of lower Siberia.

At last, the departure was fixed for the 21st of October. For forty-eight hours a misty sky had been melting into snow. An immense white sheet gave the vast ice-field a uniform surface. The fishermen affirmed their belief that the strait was one mass of ice from shore to shore.

Indeed evident proofs of the fact were soon forthcoming. Several traders arrived from Numana port, and their journey across had been effected without obstacles or dangers.

Moreover, on the 19th, Mr. Sergius was told that two of the Russian agents who were at Port Clarence would not wait any longer to go to the Siberian shore, and had started that very morning, intending to halt at the Isle of Diomede and pursue their journey the following day.

Which led to this remark of Cascabel's:

“Here are two fellows who were in a greater hurry than we are! Why, they might, surely, have waited for us! We'd have kept each other company on the road!”

Then he said to himself, that, very likely, the officials had been afraid to be delayed, if they kept on with the Fair Rambler, for she could not sail many knots an hour on that layer of snow.

As a matter of fact, although Vermont and Gladiator had been rough-shod, it would take the wagon several days to reach the opposite shore, taking into account the rest at the central island.

In reality, if the agents had preferred to start before Count Narkine, it was, of course, to be able to take all the necessary measures for his arrest.

It had been decided they would start at sunrise. The few hours of light that the sun still gave should be availed of. In six weeks' time, about the time of the solstice of the 21st of December, continual night would spread over the countries crossed by the polar circle.

On the eve of the departure, a “tea,” offered by Mr. and Mrs. Cascabel, gathered together, under a shed appropriated to the occasion, the notables of Port Clarence, both officials and fishermen, as well as several Eskimo chiefs who had shown some interest in the travelers. The meeting passed off merrily, and Clovy “obliged” with the funniest songs in his repertory. Cornelia had brewed a bowl of burning punch in which, if she had spared the sugar, she had not spared the brandy. This beverage was all the more appreciated by the guests, as, on their way home, they were going to be exposed to a biting cold,—one of those freezing chills which, during certain winter-nights, seem to come from the utmost ends of the star-spangled sky.

The Americans drank to France, the French people drank to America. Then the guests parted after any number of shake-hands with the Cascabels.

Next day, the two horses were harnessed at eight o'clock in the morning. The ape, John Bull, had ensconced himself in the awning, his nose barely visible through an opening in his fur covering, whilst Wagram and Marengo gamboled around the Fair Rambler. Inside, Cornelia, Napoleona, and Kayette had shut themselves up hermetically to look after their daily work: the “house” to be cleaned up, the stove to be seen to, the meals to be prepared. Mr. Sergius, and Mr. Cascabel, John, Sander, and Clovy, some at the horses' heads, others going ahead as scouts, were to see to the safety of the wagon, by avoiding the bad places on the “road.”

At length the signal was given for the start, and simultaneously the hurrahs of the population of Port Clarence broke forth.

The next moment, the wheels of the Fair Rambler made the crispy surface of the ice-field crackle.

Mr. Sergius and the Cascabel family had finally left the land of America.

César Cascabel/Première partie/Chapitre XVI