Page:Works of Jules Verne - Parke - Vol 7.djvu/39

Rh a passage across the Atlantic in this huge boat cannot fail to be interesting even to you who are so little used to the sea. But now let us talk about yourself. Your last letter, and it is not more than six weeks since I received it, bore the Bombay post-mark, so that I was justified in believing you were still with your regiment."

"We were so three weeks ago," said Fabian, "leading the half-military, half-country life of Indian officers, employing most of our time in hunting; my friend here is a famed tiger-killer; however, as we are both single and without family ties, we thought we would let the poor wild beasts of the peninsula rest for a time, while we came to Europe to breathe a little of our native air. We obtained a year's leave, and traveling by way of the Red Sea, Suez, and France, we reached Old England with the utmost possible speed."

"Old England," said Captain Corsican, smiling; "we are there no longer, Fabian; we are on board an English ship, but it is freighted by a French company, and it is taking us to America; three different flags float over our heads, signifying that we are treading on Franco-Anglo-American boards."

"What does it matter," replied Fabian, and a painful expression passed over his face; "what does it matter, so long as it whiles away the time? 'Movement is life;' and it is well to be able to forget the past, and kill the present by continual change. In a few days I shall be at New York, where I hope to meet again my sister and her children, whom I have not seen for several years; then we shall visit the great lakes, and descend the Mississippi as far as New Orleans, where we shall look for sport on the Amazon. Then we are going to Africa, where the lions and elephants will make the Cape their 'rendezvous,' in order to celebrate the arrival of Captain Corsican. Finally, we shall return and impose on the Sepoys the caprices of the metropolis."

Fabian spoke with a nervous volubility, and his breast heaved; evidently there was some great grief weighing on his mind, the cause of which I was at yet ignorant of, but with which Archibald seemed to be well acquainted. He evinced a warm friendship for Fabian, who was several years younger than himself, treating him like a younger brother, with a devotion which almost amounted to heroism.