Classic Audiobook Collection - The Begum's Fortune by Jules Verne ~ Full Audiobook [scifi]
Episode Date: July 29, 2023The Begum's Fortune by Jules Verne audiobook. Genre: scifi A novel with some utopian elements, but primarily dystopian. A French doctor and a German professor both inherit a vast fortune as descendan...ts of a French soldier who married the rich widow of an Indian prince. They both decide to go to America and establish their own 'ideal' society. Dr. Sarrasin, the French doctor, is focused on maintaining public health. He builds Ville-France. Professor Schultze, the German scientist, is a bit of a militarist and racist. He builds Stahlstadt and devotes his city to the production of ever more powerful weapons so that he can destroy Sarrasin's city. They manage to get the US to cede sovereignty to two cities so that the two newly rich men can create their utopia. The setting for Ville-France would place it on the Oregon Coast, near Bandon, Oregon. The location for the second city, Stahlstadt, is less clear, but the description would place it somewhere near Roseburg, Oregon For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 01 (00:23:31) Chapter 02 (00:49:41) Chapter 03 (01:14:38) Chapter 04 (01:40:49) Chapter 05 (02:08:25) Chapter 06 (02:31:19) Chapter 07 (02:52:35) Chapter 08 (03:25:35) Chapter 09 (03:48:15) Chapter 10 (04:13:17) Chapter 11 (04:26:45) Chapter 12 (04:47:47) Chapter 13 (04:52:54) Chapter 14 (05:03:11) Chapter 15 (05:23:36) Chapter 16 (05:41:35) Chapter 17 (05:55:44) Chapter 18 (06:11:28) Chapter 19 (06:19:27) Chapter 20 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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The Begham's Fortune by Jules Verne.
Chapter 1. Enter Mr. Sharp.
Really, these English newspapers are very well written, said the worthy doctor to himself,
as he leaned back in a great leathern, easy chair.
Dr. Saracen had all his life been given to soliloquizing,
one of the many results of absence of mind.
He was a man of 50 or thereabouts.
his features were refined, clear, lively eyes shown through his steel spectacles,
and the expression of his countenance, although grave, was genial.
He was one of those people, looking at whom one says at the first glance,
There is an honest man.
Notwithstanding the early hour and the easy style of his dress,
the doctor had already shaved and put on a wards.
white cravat. Scattered near him on the carpet and on sundry chairs, in the living room of his
hotel at Brighton, lay copies of the Times, the Daily Telegraph, and the Daily News. It was not much more
than ten o'clock, yet the doctor had been out walking in the town, had visited an hospital,
returned to his hotel, and read in the principal London journals, the full report of a paper communicated by him
two evenings previously at a meeting of the great international hygienic conference on the Comte Globules
du Song, or Blood Corpuscle Computator, an instrument he had invented, and which even in England
keeps its French name. Before him stood a breakfast tray, covered with a snowy napkin, on which
were placed a well-dressed cutlet, a cup of hot and fragrant tea, and a place.
of that buttered toast, which English cooks, thanks to English bakers, can make to perfection.
Yes, he repeated. These journals are really admirably well-written. There is no denying the fact.
Here is the speech of the President, the reply by Dr. Sikogna of Naples, my own paper in full,
all as it were caught in the air, seized and photographed at once.
Dr. Saracen of Duay rose and addressed the meeting.
The Honourable Member spoke in French and said,
My auditors will permit me to express myself in my own language,
which I am sure they understand far better than I speak theirs.
Five columns in small print.
I cannot decide which reports best, the Times or the Telegraph.
Each seems so exact and so precise.
Dr. Saracen had reached this point in his meditations
when one of the waiters of the establishment,
a gentleman most correctly dressed in black,
entered and presenting a card,
inquired whether Monsour was at home to a visitor.
This appellation of Monsour,
the English consider it necessary to be stow indiscriminately,
on every Frenchman, in the same way they would think at a breach of all the rules of civility,
did they fail to address an Italian as Signor and a German as hair? Perhaps on the whole
the custom is a good one, it certainly has the advantage of at once indicating nationalities.
Considerably surprised to hear of a visitor in a country where he was acquainted with no one,
the doctor took the card and read with increased perplexity the following address.
Mr. Sharp, Solicitor, 93 Southampton Row, London.
He knew that a solicitor meant what he should call an avoway
and signified a lawyer of the compound nature of attorney, procurator, and notary.
What possible business can Mr. Sharp have with me?
thought the doctor. Can I have got into some scrape or other without knowing it? Are you sure this card is
intended for me? He asked. Oh, yes, Monsour. Well, let the gentlemen come in. A youngish man
entered the room whom the doctor at once clasped in the great family of death's heads,
thin, dry lips, drawn back from long white teeth, hollow temple bones, and
displayed beneath skin like parchment, the complexion of a mummy, and small gray eyes, as sharp as needles, quite justified the title. The rest of the skeleton, from the heels to the occiput, was hidden from view beneath an ulster of a large checker pattern, his hand grasped a patent leather bag. This personage entered, bowing in a hasty manner, placed bag and hat on the ground.
took a chair without waiting to have one offered, and opened his business by saying,
William Henry Sharp, Jr., of the firm of Billows Green, Sharp, and Co.
Have I the honor of speaking to Dr. Saracen?
Yes, sir.
Francois, Saracen, that certainly is my name.
Of, do I.
I reside it, do I?
Your father's name was Isidore, Saracen.
It was so.
Let us conclude him to have been, Isidore Saracen.
Mr. Sharp drew a notebook from his pocket, consulted it, and resumed.
Isidore Saracen died at Paris in 1857, 6th at Rondisement, Rue Durran, number 54,
the Hotel de Coles, now demolished.
Perfectly correct, said the doctor, more and more astonished.
But will you have the kind of?
to explain. His mother's name, pursued the imperturbable Mr. Sharp, was Julie Languble,
originally of Barla Duke, daughter of Benedict Languval, who lived in the Alley-Loreal and died in 1812,
as is shown by the municipal registers of the said town. These registers are a valuable
institutions are highly valuable, and sister of Jean-Jacques Langaville, drum major in the 36th light.
I assure you, interrupted Dr. Saracen, confounded by this intimate acquaintance with his genealogy,
that you are better informed on these points than I am myself.
It is true that my grandmother's family name was Languval, and that is all I know about her.
About the year 1807, she left the town of Barla Duke with your grandfather,
Jean Saracen, whom she had married in 1799.
They settled at Malin, where he worked as a tinsmith, and wherein 1811,
Julie Languval Saracen's wife died, leaving only one child, Isidore Saracen, your father.
From that time up to the date of his death discovered at Paris,
the threat is lost.
I can supply it, said the doctor, interested in spite of himself by this wonderful precision.
My grandfather settled in Paris for the sake of the education of his son, whom he destined to
the medical profession. He died in 1832 at Palaiso near Versailles, where my father practiced
as a physician and where I was born in 1822.
You are my man, resumed Mr. Sharp. No brothers or sisters. None. I was the only son. My mother died two years after my birth. Now, sir, will you tell me? Mr. Sharp stood up.
Raja Briar Juehir Mitharanath, said he, pronouncing the names with respect shown by every Englishman to a title.
I am happy to have discovered you, and to be the first to congratulate you.
The man is deranged, thought the doctor. It is not at all uncommon among these death's heads.
The solicitor read this opinion in his eyes.
I am not mad in the slightest degree, said he calmly. You are at the present moment the
sole known heir to the title of Raja, which Jean-Jean, Jean-Glauc,
Langeville, who became a naturalized British subject in 1819, succeeded to the property of his wife,
the Begham Jokul, and died in 1841, leaving only one son, an idiot, who died without issue in
1969, was allowed to assume by the Governor General of the province of Bengal. The value of the
estate has risen during the last 30 years to about five millions of pounds sterling. It remained
sequestered in under guardianship, almost the whole of the interest going to increase the capital
during the life of the imbecile son of Jean-Jacques Languville. In 1870, the value of the inheritance
was given in round numbers to be 21 millions of pounds sterling, or 525 millions of francs.
In fulfillment of an order of the Law Court of Agra, countersigned by that of Delhi, and confirmed
by the Privy Council, the whole of the landed and personal property has been sold, and the sum
realized has been placed in the Bank of England. The actual sum is 527 millions of francs.
which you can withdraw by a check, as soon as you have proved your genealogical identity in the
Court of Chancery. And in the meantime, I am authorized by M. Scher's Trollope-Smith and Co. Bankers,
to offer you advances to any amount. Dr. Saracin sat petrified. For some minutes he could not utter a word,
then, impressed by a conviction that this fine story was without any of his own.
any foundation, in fact.
He quietly said,
After all, sir, where are the proofs of this?
And what way have you been led to find me out?
The proofs are here, sir, replied Mr. Sharp,
tapping on his shiny leather bag.
As to how I discovered you,
it has been in a very simple way.
I have been searching for you for five years.
It is the specialty of our firm to find airs,
for the numerous fortunes
which year by year are left in a sheet in the British dominions. For five years, the question of
the inheritance of the Begham Gokul has exercised all our ingenuity and activity. We have made
investigations in every direction, passed in review hundreds of families of your name, without
finding that of Isidore Saracen. I was almost convinced that there was not another of the name
in all France. When yesterday morning, I read,
read in the daily news a report of the meeting of the Hygienic Conference and observed that among
the members was Dr. Saracen, of whom I had never before heard. Referring instantly to my notes
and to hundreds of papers on the subject of this estate, I ascertained with surprise that the town
of Duai had entirely escaped our notice. With the conviction that I had got you on the
right sent, I took the train for Brighton, saw you leave the meeting, and all doubt vanished.
You are the living image of your great Uncle Languval, of whom we possess a photograph,
taken from a portrait by the Indian painter Serenone.
Mr. Sharp took photograph from his pocketbook and handed it to Dr. Saracen.
It represented a tall man with a magnificent beard, a crested turban, and a richly brocated robe.
He was seated after the manner of conventional portraits of generals in the army,
appearing to be drawing up a plan of attack, while attentively regarding the spectator.
In the background could be dimly discerned the smoke of battle and a charge of cavalry.
A glance at these papers will inform you on this matter better than I can do, continued Mr. Sharp.
I will leave them with you and return in a couple of hours, if you will then permit me to take your orders.
So saying, Mr. Sharp drew from the depths of his glazed bag, seven or eight bundles of documents.
Some printed, some manuscript, placed them on the table, and backed out of the room.
room, murmuring, I have the honor to wish the Raja Briya Jowa Mithuranth a very good morning.
Partly convinced, partly ridiculing the idea, the doctor took the papers and began to peruse them.
A rapid examination sufficed to show him the truth of Mr. Sharps' statements and to remove his
doubts. Among the printed documents he read the following, evidence placed before the right
honorable lords of Her Majesty's Privy Council on the 5th of January 1870, touching the vacant
succession of the Begham Gokul of Raganara in Bengal, points of the case. The question concerns the
rights of possession to certain landed estates, together with a variety of edifices, palaces,
mercantile establishments, villages, personal properties, treasure, arms, etc.,
etc, forming the inheritance of the Begham Gokul of Raghinaura.
From the evidence submitted to the Civil Tribunal of Agra and to the Superior Court at Delhi,
it appears that in 1819 the Begum Gokul, widow of Raja Lachmisser, and possessed in her own
right of considerable wealth, married a foreigner of French origin by name Jean-Jacques-Langeville.
This foreigner, after serving until 1815 in the French army, as drum major in the 36th light cavalry,
embarked at Nantes upon the dispensment of the army of the Lahr as supercargo of a merchant ship.
He reached Calcutta, passed into the interior, and speedily obtained the appointment of military instructor
in the small native army which the Raja Lachmissar was.
authorized to maintain. In this army he rose to be commander-in-chief, and shortly after the Rajah's
death, he obtained the hand of his widow. In consideration of various important services rendered to the
English residence at Agra by Jean-Jacques Languil, he was constituted a British subject, and the
Governor-General of Bengal obtained for the husband of the Begham, the title of Rajah of Brathevon,
Joe Ayr, Mothoranath, which was the name of one of the most considerable of her estates.
The Begham died in 1839, leaving the whole of her wealth in property to Languville, who survived
to only two years. Their only child was imbecile from his infancy, and was placed at once under
guardians. The inheritance was carefully managed by trustees until his death, which occurred in
1869. To this immense heritage, there is no known heir, the courts of Agra and Delhi, having ordered
its sale by auction on the application of the local government acting for the state, we have the
honor to request from the Lords of the Privy Council a confirmation of their decision, etc.
Here followed the signatures. Copies of legal documents from Agra and Delhi,
of sale, an account of the efforts made in France to discover the next of kin to Languval's
family, and a whole mass of imposing evidence of the like nature, left Dr. Saracen no room for doubt
or hesitation. Between him and the 527 millions of francs deposited in the strong rooms of the Bank
of England, there was but a step, the production of authentic, certain, and the production of authentic,
of certain births and deaths. Such a stroke of fortune being enough to dazzle the imagination of the
most sober-minded man, the good doctor could not contemplate it without some emotion, yet it was of
short duration, and exhibited simply by a rapid walk for a few minutes up and down his apartment.
Quickly recovering his self-possession, he accused himself of weakness for yielding to this feverish agitation
threw himself into his chair, and remained for a time lost, in profound reflection.
Then suddenly rising, he resumed his walk backwards and forwards,
while his eyes shone with a pure light, as though a noble and generous project,
burned within his breast.
He seemed to welcome to caress, to encourage, and finally to adopt it.
A knock at the door.
Mr. Sharp returned.
I ask pardon a thousand times for my doubts as to the correctness of your information,
said the doctor in a cordial tone.
You see me now perfectly convinced, and extremely obliged to you for the trouble you have taken.
Not at all, mere matter of business, in the way of my profession, nothing more, replied Mr. Sharp.
May I venture to hope that the Rajah will remain our client?
That is understood. I place the whole affair in your hands. I only begged you to desist from giving me that absurd title.
Absurd! A title worth twenty millions! Were the words Mr. Sharp would have uttered, had he known no better, but he said,
Certainly, sir, if you wish it. As you please, sir, I am now going to return by train to London, where I shall await your order.
May I keep these documents? inquired the doctor. Most assuredly, we retain copies.
Mr. Saracen was left alone. He seated himself at his desk, took out a sheet of paper, and wrote as follows.
Brighton, 28th October, 1871. My dear child, we have become possessed of an enormous fortune of fortune
absurdly colossal. Do not fancy that I have lost my senses, but read the printed papers enclosed
in my letter. You will there plainly see that I am proof to be the heir to a native title in
India, and a sum equivalent to many millions of francs, actually deposited in the Bank of England.
I can feel sure of the sentiments with which you, my dear Otto, will receive this news.
You will perceive as I do myself, the new duties which such wealth will impose upon us,
and the danger we are in of being tempted to use it unwisely.
It is but an hour since I was made aware of the fact,
and already the overpowering sense of responsibility seems to lessen the pleasure it first gave me,
as I thought of you.
This change may be fatal instead of fortunate to our destiny.
In the modest position of pioneers of science we were content and happy in obscurity.
Shall we continue to be so?
I doubt it.
Unless, perhaps, could I venture to mention an idea which has flashed across my brain?
Unless this same fortune were to become in our hands a new and powerful engine of science,
a mighty tool in the great work of civilization and progress.
We will talk about this.
write to me. Let me know very soon what impression this wonderful news makes on your mind,
and let your mother hear it from you, sensible woman as she is. I am convinced she will receive it calmly.
As to your sister, she is too young to have her head turned by anything of the sort. Besides,
that little head of hers is a very sober one, and even if she could comprehend all that this change,
in our position implies, I believe she would take it more quietly than any of us.
Remember me cordially to Max. I connect him with all my schemes for the future.
Your affectionate father, Francois, Saracen. This letter, with the more important papers,
was addressed to Monsieur Octav Saracen, student at the Upper School of Arts and Manufacturers.
32 Rue de Roy de Cecile Paris.
Then the doctor put on his overcoat,
took his hat, and went to the conference.
In a quarter of an hour,
the worthy man had forgotten all about his millions.
End of Chapter 1.
Section 2 of the Begham's Fortune
by Jules Verne,
translated by W.H.G. Kingston.
Libervox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 2. A pair of chums. Dr. Saracen's son Octavius was not exactly what one would call
it dunce. He was neither a blockhead nor a genius, neither plain nor handsome, neither tall nor short,
neither dark nor fair. His complexion was not brown, and he was altogether an average specimen
of the middle class. At school, he had never taken a very high place, although occasionally gaining a
prize. He had failed in his first examination for passing into the College of Engineers,
but a second attempt admitted him, although with no great credit, there was a want of decision
in his character. His mind was content with inaccuracies. He was one of those people who are
satisfied to have a general idea of a subject and who walk through life by moonlight.
Such men float at the mercy of fate as corks do on the crests of waves.
They are driven to the equator or to the pole, according to whether the wind blows north or
south. Chance decides their career. Had Dr. Saracen altogether understood his son's character,
he might have hesitated to write the letter he did, but the wisest man may be a blind father.
Fortunately for Octavius, he had during his school life come under the influence of an energetic
nature, which by its vigorous strength ruled him for his good, albeit somewhat tyrannically.
He formed a close friendship with one of his companions,
Marksman, a native of Alsace, a year younger than himself, but far his superior in physical,
intellectual, and moral vigor. Max Brookman, left an orphan at the age of 12, inherited a small
income, just sufficient to defray the expense of his education. His life at college would have
been monotonous had he not passed the holidays with Octavius, or Otto, as he called his friend
at his home. The young Alsacian very soon felt himself one of Dr. Saracen's family. Beneath the cold exterior
lay a warm and sensitive nature, and he considered that he was bound for life to those who
acted like father and mother to him. He positively adored Dr. Saracen, his wife, and their pretty
thoughtful little daughter, his heart expanded under the influence of their kindness,
and he greatly wished to be useful to them by helping Jeanette, who loved her studies to advance in them,
and thoroughly to cultivate her excellent abilities and firm, sensible mind, while he longed to lead Otto to become as good a man as his father.
This latter task he well knew to be by no means so easy as the former, yet Max was resolved to attain his double purpose.
Max Brookman was one of those trusty and gallanted champions,
whom year by year Alsos sends forth to do battle on the great arena of life in Paris.
As a mere child, he distinguished himself by the strength and flexibility of his muscles,
as much as by the vivacity and intelligence of his mind,
inwardly full of life and courage, his outward form exhibited strong,
muscular development rather than graceful proportions. At college, he excelled in everything he
attempted, whether sport or study. Reaping an annual harvest of prizes, he thought the year wasted
if he failed to gain all within his reach. At 20, his form was large, robust, and in splendid
condition, his movements were animated, and his well-shaped head betokened unusual intelligence.
When he entered college the same year with Octavius, he stood second and was resolved to be
first when the time came for leaving it. Without his persistent energy to urge him forward,
Octavius would never got in at all. For the space of a whole year, Max had driven and goaded him
to work, had regularly compelled him to succeed. He entertained for this friend of weak and vacillating
nature, a sentiment of kindly compassion, such as one might suppose a lion to exhibit towards a little
puppy. He liked to feel that he could nourish this parasitical plant from the superabundance of his own sap
and cause it to flourish and blossom beside him. The war of 1870 broke out,
at the close of one of their terms. Max, full of patriotic grief at the fate which threatened
Strasbourg and Alsace, hastened to enlist in the 31st Regiment of Light Infantry.
Otto, as Max called him, and as we will for the future, at once followed his example.
Side by side the two friends, stationed in the outposts of Paris, went through the severe campaign
of the siege. At Champagne, Max received a ball in his right arm, at Boosinville, an epaulet,
on his left shoulder. Auda received neither wound nor decoration. It could not have been his
fault, for he followed his friend everywhere, scarcely half a dozen yards in his rear. But those half-dozen
yards made all the difference. After the peace, the two friends resumed their studies, occupying
modest apartments together near the college. The recent misfortunes of France, the loss to her of
Lorraine and Alsos, had matured the character of Max. He felt and spoke like a man. It is the
vocation of the youth of France, said he, to repair the errors of their fathers. By genuine hard work alone
can this be done. Max rose every morning at five o'clock and made Otto do the same.
same. He obliged him to be punctual at his classes, and never lost sight of him during the
hours of recreation. The evening was devoted to study, with occasional pauses for a pipe or a cup of
coffee. At ten they retired to rest, their hearts content, their brains well-filled. A game at
billiards now and then, a well-chosen play or concert, a ride to the forest of Aires, a country,
walk, and twice a week a lesson in fencing and boxing, these were their amusements.
From time to time, Otto, casting curious eyes at the very questionable enjoyments of other
students, would make feeble attempts at revolt, in talk of going to see Caesar Leroux, who was
studying law, and passed most of his time at the beer shop of San Michel.
But Max treated these fancies with utter contempt.
and derision that they usually passed off quietly.
On the 29th of October 1871, about 7 o'clock in the evening,
the two friends receded, as was their wont, side by side at the same table,
with a shaded lamp between them.
Max was working a problem in applied mathematics,
relative to the stability of blocks,
and had thrown himself heart and soul into it.
his subject. Otto was devoting himself sedulously to something which he thought of much greater
consequence, the brewing of a pint of coffee. It was one of the few things in which he flattered
himself he really excelled, perhaps because he had daily practice in it, thereby escaping for a
few minutes, the troublesome business of squaring equations, which he considered that Max really did
carry too far. Drop by drop, he let his boiling water pass through a thick layer of powdered
mocha, and he ought to have been contented with such tranquil happiness, but he was annoyed at the
devoted industry of Max, and felt an unconquerable desire to interrupt him. It would be a good
planned by a percolator, said he suddenly. This ancient and solemn method of filtering is a disgrace
to our modern civilization. Do, by a percolator, it will perhaps prevent your wasting an hour
every evening with this cookery, replied Max, and he returned to his problem. The entratos of a vault
is an ellipsoid. Let A, B, C, D be that principal ellipse which contains the two axes
O-A equal to A-O-B, equal to B, while the least axis O, or E, or E, or L B, while the least axis O,
So zero degrees, C degrees, is vertical and equal to C, then that which supports the elliptic vault,
at this moment came a rap at the door.
A letter for Monsieur Octav Saracen.
It may be imagined that this interruption was heartily welcomed by that young gentleman.
Ah, from my father, it is his hand I see.
Come, this is something like a letter.
He exclaimed, as he weighed at the packet of papers in his hand.
Max knew that the doctor was in England.
He had been in Paris a week before on his way there,
and had treated the two lads to a dinner fit for an emperor at the Palais' Royal.
For although that once famous place was quite out of fashion,
Dr. Saracen continued to regard it as the center of Parisian taste and refinement.
Let me know what your father says about his hygienic conference, said Max.
It was a good idea of his to attend to that.
French savants are inclined to be too exclusive.
And Max returned to his problem.
The extradors will be formed by another similar ellipsoid,
having its center at the point zero on the vertical zero C.
Let FFF be the foci of the three-pointe.
principal ellipses that may find the auxiliary, ellipse, and hyperbola of which the common axes are.
A shout from Otto made him look up.
What is the matter?
He asked with some alarm, seeing his friend turn pale.
Read this, cried Otto, completely astonished by the news he had received.
Max took the letter, read it all through, read it a second time,
glanced over the documents enclosed and said,
"'This is curious.'
Then he filled his pipe and lighted it methodically.
Otto watched him, all anxiety for his opinion.
"'Do you think it can be true?' he exclaimed with a choking voice.
"'True? To be sure it is, your father has too much common sense.
His judgment is too good to let him accept rashly,
so well-authenticated a statement as this. Besides, the proofs are there. It is in fact perfectly plain.
The pipe was now thoroughly lighted. Max resumed his work. Otto sat with his arms hanging down,
unable even to finish his coffee, far less to bring two ideas together. He could not help
speaking, just to convince himself that he was not asleep. But may I say, Max, if this is
true. It is downright overwhelming. All these millions. Why, it is an enormous fortune, mind you.
Max looked up and nodded. Yeah, see, Normas is the word for it. Most like they, there is not one such in France.
A few in the United States, five or six in England, not above 15 or 20 in the world altogether.
And a title into the bargain? Resumed.
Otto. A foreign title, what is it? Let's see. Rajah, not that I ever was ambitious of having a
title, but if it comes in one's way, why, it certainly sounds more imposing than plain Saracen.
Max shot forth a puff of smoke and uttered not a word. That puff of smoke distinctly said,
Pooh-poo. Certainly, continued Otto, I should never have stuck a dove.
before my name, or assumed anything high-sounding as some people do, but to inherit a real
genuine title and to take rank among the great princes of India without any possible chance of
doubt or confusion? The pipe kept puffing, pooh-poo. My dear fellow, said Otto decidedly.
You may say what you like, but I can tell you there is a good deal.
in blood, as the English express it.
He stopped short as he caught the mocking smile in Max's eyes and returned to the contemplation
of his millions.
Do you recollect Max how Benom, our old arithmetic master, used to impress upon us every year in
his opening lesson that five hundred millions was a number far beyond the grasp of one human
mind, unaided by the resources of written figures, one has to consider than a man spending a
franc every minute, would take more than a thousand years to pay away such a sum. Well,
it really is strange to think one has inherited five hundred millions of francs.
Five hundred million francs, is it? cried Max with more interest than he had yet shown.
Shall I tell you the best of francs?
thing you can do, give it to France for payment of her ransom. She only requires ten times as much.
For mercy's sake, don't say just such an idea to my father, cried Otto, looking quite scared.
He really might adopt it. I can tell you that he already has some notion of the kind in his head,
some investment he might certainly make, but at least let us have the interest.
Come, we shall have you turn out to be a financier after all, said Max.
Something tells me, my poor Otto, that it would have been better for your father with his upright,
intelligent mind, if this great fortune had been of a more reasonable size.
I would rather see you with an income of five-and-twenty-thousand to share with your good little sister than with this great
mountain of gold.
And Max went back to his work.
As to Otto, he could not settle to anything and fidgeted about the room till his friend got rather impatient and said,
You had better go out and take a walk, Otto. It is clear you are fit for nothing this evening.
You are quite right, I really am not, replied Otto, who joyfully caught at this excuse for leaving off work,
and seizing his hat, he clattered downstairs and was soon in the street.
He presently stopped beneath a bright gaslight and read his father's letter again.
He wanted to make sure he was not dreaming.
Five hundred millions of francs, he kept repeating.
That would be at least five and twenty millions a year.
Why, if my father will only give me one million a year, say quarterly or half-yearly,
as my allowance, how happy I should be.
Money can do so much. I am sure I should make an excellent use of it. I'm not a fool,
not a bit of it. Didn't I get into the upper school? And then that title, I'm sure I could easily
support the dignity of a title. As he passed along, he looked into all the shops. I shall have
a fine house, horses, one for Max, of course. I becoming rich myself, he will become so
likewise. Only think. Five hundred millions. But somehow, now a fortune comes, it seems to me as though I had
expected it. Something whispered that I should not be pouring over books and plans all my life.
As Otto revolved these thoughts, he was passing along beneath the arcades of the Rue de Rivoli,
reaching the Champ Belize. He turned up the Rue Royale. He turned up the Rue Royale. He turned up the Rue,
and reached the boulevards.
The splendid shop fronts,
which formerly he regarded with indifference
as exhibiting things utterly useless to him,
now attracted live the attention,
as he considered with a thrill of delight
that he could at any moment possess any or all of these treasures.
For me, said he to himself,
for me,
Oh, this fine linen, all these exquisite soft cloths are manufactured. For me, watchmakers construct
timepieces and chronometers. For my pleasure, the brilliant lusters of theatre and opera,
shed their dazzling lights, violin scrape, prima donna sing their enchanting strains.
For me, horse dealers train thoroughbred.
and the Café-Angles is lighted up. All Paris is mine. Everything is at my disposal.
Travel. To be sure, I shall travel. I shall go and visit my Indian possessions. As likely as not,
I shall buy a pagoda some day, priests and all, and the ivory idols into the bargain.
I shall have elephants of my own. I shall have splendid guns and rifles,
Go tiger shooting, and I must have a beautiful boat. A boat, what am I thinking about? A fine steam yacht. That's what I shall have. Go where I choose, stop as often as I like, talking of steam. I have to give this news to my mother. Suppose I start for do I. There is college to be considered. But then what's the use of college to me now? But Max,
I must let him know. I should send him a message. Of course he will understand that under present
circumstances, I am in haste to see my mother and sister. Otto entered an office and sent a telegram
to inform his friend that he was gone and would return in a couple of days. Then hailing a cab
he was driven to the terminus of the Northern Railway, settling himself in the corner of a carriage,
he continued to follow out his dreaming fancies, until at two o'clock in the morning he arrived at Dubai,
hurried to his father's house, and rang the night bell so noisily that not only the family,
but all the neighbors, were aroused by the peel.
Night-capped heads popped out at various windows.
Someone is ill, who can't be?
inquired one and another.
The doctor is not at home.
screamed the old servant from her attic window. It is I, it is I, Otto, come down and let me in,
Van Shon. After a delay of ten minutes, Otto was admitted into the house. His mother and sister
hastily robed in dressing gowns, came downstairs, all anxiety to learn the cause of this visit.
The doctor's letter on being read aloud explained the mystery. Madam Sarah,
was at first completely dazzled. She embraced her son and daughter with tears of joy.
It seemed to her that the whole world was theirs, and that misfortune could never approach a family
possessed of hundreds of millions of francs. Women, however, can more readily than men
adapt themselves to circumstances and to certain changes in fortune.
Madam Saracen read her husband's letter again, felt that this great sum was his, that he would take all the responsibility of deciding what she and her children were to do and speedily resumed her usual composure.
As to Jeanette, she was glad to see her mother and brother so happy, but her childish imagination could picture no manner of life more delightful than that.
that she led, in her quiet home, occupied with her studies, and happy in the love of her parents.
She could not see why a few bundles of banknotes should make any great change in her existence,
and the prospect of it did not, in the least, degree, discompose her.
Madam Saracen had married at a very early age, a man entirely absorbed by the studious occupations
of an ardent scholar and philosopher.
She loved her husband and respected his tastes,
although she could not always comprehend them,
incapable of sharing the pleasure which Dr. Saracen derived from study.
She had at times felt herself, lonely by the side of the enthusiastic man of science,
and consequently centered all her hopes and aspirations in her children.
She pictured for them a brilliant and happy future.
Otto, she felt certain, was destined to do great things.
From the time he took a place in the upper school,
she mentally regarded that modest and useful college for young engineers
as the nursery of illustrious men.
Her only trouble was that their limited means might possibly prove an obstacle,
or at least a difficulty in the way of her son's brilliant career,
and might ultimately also affect her daughter's establishment in life.
But now, she so far understood the news conveyed in her husband's letter as to perceive that these fears were needless, and her satisfaction was entire.
The mother and son spent most of the night in talking and making plans, while Jeanette, happy in the present, heedless of the future, was fast asleep in an armchair.
You have not mentioned Max, said Madam Sir.
Harrison to his son, have you not shown him your father's letter? What does he say about it?
Oh, you know what Max is, answered Otto. He is worse than a philosopher. He is a stoic.
I believe he fears the effect so enormous a fortune will have upon us. I say upon us,
but he is not afraid for my father himself, whose good sense in judgment he says he can rely upon.
but for you, Mother, and Jeanette, and more especially, for me, he plainly said he should have
preferred an income of a few thousands a year. Perhaps Max is not far wrong, replied Madam Saracen,
looking at her son. The sudden possession of great wealth is fraught with danger to some
natures. Jeanette awoke and heard her mother's last words. Do you not remember, Mother? said
As rubbing her eyes, she rose and turned towards her little bedroom.
Do not remember, you told me one day that Max was always in the right.
I, for my part, believe what our friend Max says, and kissing her mother, Jeanette withdrew.
End of Section 2.
Section 3 of the Begum's Fortune by Jules Verne, translated by W.H.G.
Kingston. This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 3. Effect of an item of news.
On entering the hall, where the fourth meeting of the Hygienic Conference was being held,
Dr. Saracen was conscious that he was received with unusual tokens of respect. The right Honorable
Lord Glendover, the President and Chairman of the Assembly, had not hitherto condescended to appear
conscious of the existence of the French doctor. This nobleman was an August personage,
whose part it was to declare the conference open or closed, and from a list placed before him,
to call upon the various speakers who were to address the meeting. He habitually carried his
right hand in the breast of his button coat, not that it had received an injury and needed
support, but only because it was usual among English sculptors to represent states'
in this inconvenient attitude. His pale smooth face, marked with red blotches, and surmounted by a wig
of light hair, brushed high on a forehead which clearly belonged to an empty pate, possessed an
aspect of ludicrous stiffness and foolish gravity. Lord Glandover might have been made of wood or
pasteboard, so stiff and unnatural were all his movements. His very eyes.
appeared to turn beneath their brows by intermittent jerks, like those of a doll or puppet.
The notice hitherto bestowed on Dr. Saracen by Lord Glandover had amounted to no more than a slight
and patronizing bow. It seemed to say, good morning, poor man, you are one of those who support
your insignificant existence by making insignificant experiments with insignificant machines,
how condescending I am to notice of being so far beneath me in the scale of creation,
you may sit down, poor man, beneath the shadow of my nobility.
But on the present occasion, Lord Glendover smiled most graciously upon Dr. Saracen as he entered,
and even carried his courtesy so far as to invite him by a sign to be seated at his right hand.
The other members of the conference all rose when he appeared on the platform.
Considerably astonished by a reception so flattering,
Dr. Saracen took the chair offered to him,
concluding that, on further consideration,
his invention had been found of much greater importance
than his scientific brethren had at first supposed.
But this illusion vanished,
when Lord Glendover, leaning towards him with a spot,
final contortion of his body, whispered in his ear,
I understand that you are a man of very considerable property.
They tell me you are worth twenty-one million pounds sterling.
This was said almost in a tone of reproach,
as though his lordship felt aggrieved
at having lightly treated the equivalent in flesh and blood
of a sum of money so vast.
His look in tone seemed to say,
Why was I not made aware of this?
It really is unfair to expose one to the awkwardness of making such mistakes.
Dr. Saracen, who could not in conscience, have said he was worth a penny more than he had been at the last meeting,
was wondering how the news should have already become known when Dr. Ovidius of Berlin, who sat next to him,
him, said with a false and faint smile. Why, Saracen, you are as great a man as any of the Rothschilds,
so the Daily Telegraph makes out. Let me congratulate you. He handed the doctor a copy of the
paper of Thursday, among the items of news, was to be seen the following paragraph, the composition
of which plainly revealed its authorship. A monster heritage. The legitimate
to the fortune of the late Begham Gogol has at length been discovered, thanks to the
indefatigable researchers of mershires, billows, green, and sharp solicitors, 94 Southampton
Row, London. The fortunate possessor of 21 million pounds sterling, now deposited in the Bank of
England, is a Frenchman, Dr. Saracen, whose able paper communicated at the Brighton Scientific
conference was reported in this journal three days ago.
By dint of a course of strenuous efforts, and amid difficulties and adventures forming in themselves
a perfect romance, Mr. Sharp has succeeded in proving indisputably that Dr. Saracen is the sole
living descendant of Jean-Jacques Langaville, the second husband of the Begham Gogol.
This soldier of fortune was, it appears, a native of the town of Barbelew.
friends. A few matters of form only required to be gone through in order to place Dr. Saracen
in full possession of his fortune. A petition to that effect has been filed in chancery.
Very remarkable is the chain of circumstance by which the treasure accumulated by a long line
of Indian Rajas is laid at the feet of a French physician. The fickle goddess might have
exhibited the indiscretion she so frequently displays in the disposal of her gifts.
but on this occasion she has, we are glad to say, bestowed this prodigious fortune on one who will not fail to make a good use of his wealth.
Oddly enough, as many might think, Dr. Saracen was vexed to see his newsmaid public. He not only foresaw the many annoyances it would entail upon him, he also felt humbled.
By the importance people seemed to attach to the event, he, him,
himself personally, appeared to dwindle into insignificance before the imposing figures which
denoted his capital. He was inly conscious that his own personal merits, and all he had ever
accomplished, were already, even in the eyes of those who knew him best, sunk in this ocean
of gold and silver. His friends no longer saw in him, the enthusiastic experimentalist, the
ingenious inventor, the acute philosopher. They only saw the great millionaire.
Had he been a hump-backed dwarf, an ignorant hottentot, the lowest specimen of humanity,
instead of one of its most intelligent representatives, his value would have been the same
as Lord Glandover had expressed it. He was worth, henceforth, just 21 million pounds,
no more and no less. This idea sickened him, and the crowd of members, staring with a
searching, if not a scientific curiosity, to see how a millionaire looked, remarked with
surprise that a shade of melancholy gathered on the countenance under examination.
This, however, was only a passing weakness. The magnitude of the object to which he had resolved
to dedicate his unexpected fortune rose suddenly before him, and his serenity was restored.
He waited until Dr. Stevenson of Glasgow had finished reading a paper on the education of young
idiots, and then requested leave to make a communication. It was instantly granted by Lord Glandover,
although the name of Dr. Ovidius stood next on the list.
By the marked tone of his voice, he indicated that he would have done so, had the whole
conference objected, or had all the learned men in Europe protested with one accord against
such a piece of favoritism.
"'Gentlemen,' said Dr. Saracen,
"'it was my intention to wait for a few days before informing you of the singular chance,
which has befallen me, and of the happy consequences which may result to science, from this event.
But the fact, having become public, it would seem mere affectation were I now to delay speaking of it,
and placing it in its proper light. Yes, gentlemen, it is true that a large sum of money,
a sum amounting to many millions, now deposited in the Bank of England,
appears to be legally my property.
Need I tell you that such being the case I consider myself simply as a steward,
entrusted with this wealth for the use and benefit of science?
Immense sensation.
This treasure belongs, not to me, but to humanity, to progress.
Great commotion, exclamations,
applause. The whole assembly, electrified by this announcement, rise on mass. Do not applaud me, gentlemen.
I know not one man of science worthy of the name, who in my place would not do what it is my desire to do.
It is possible that some may attribute to me motives of vanity and self-love in this matter, rather than of
genuine devotedness.
No, no, it matters little.
Let us look to the results.
I declare then definitively and without reservation that the 21 million pounds placed in my
hands belongs not to me but to science.
Will you, gentlemen, undertake the management and distribution of it?
I have not sufficient confidence in my own knowledge to undertake the sole
disposal of such a sum, I appoint you as trustees. You yourselves shall decide on the best means of
employing all the treasure. Tumultuous pause, great excitement, general enthusiasm. The whole assembly
stood up. Some members in the fever of excitement mounted on the table. Professor Turnbull of
Glasgow appeared on the verge of apoplexy, Dr. Sikyonia, of Naples.
was ready to choke. Lord Glendover alone maintained the serene and dignified composure,
befitting his rank. He was perfectly convinced that Dr. Saracen intended the whole thing as a pleasant
jest, without the smallest intention of actually carrying out so extravagant a scheme.
When quiet was in some measure restored, the speaker continued,
If I may be permitted to suggest what it would be easy to develop and bring to perfection,
I would beg to propose the following plan.
The Assembly, recovering its composure, listened with reverential attention.
Gentlemen, among the many causes of the sickness, misery, and death, which surround us,
is one to which I think it reasonable to attach great importance, and that,
is the deplorable sanitary conditions under which the greater part of mankind exists.
Multitudes are massed together in towns and in dwellings where they are often deprived of light and air,
the two elements most necessary to life.
These agglomerations of humanity become the hotbeds of fever and infection,
and even those who escape death are tainted with disease,
their feeble and useless members of society,
which thereby suffers great and serious loss,
instead of deriving priceless advantage from their healthful and vigorous labor,
why, gentlemen, should we not,
in an effort to remedy this sore evil,
try the most powerful of all means of persuasion,
That of example? Why should we not, by uniting the powers of our minds, produce the plan of a model
city based upon strictly scientific principles? Cries of here, hair, why should we not afterwards
devote our capital to the erection of such a city, and then present it to the world as a practical
illustration of what all cities ought to be.
Hear, here, here, and thunders of applause.
The members, in transports of admiration, shook hands and congratulated each other.
Then, surrounding Dr. Saracen, they seized upon his chair, raised him up, and bore him triumphantly
round the hall.
Gentlemen, continued the doctor, on being.
permitted to resume his place. To this city, which every one of us can already picture an imagination,
and which may shortly become a reality, to this city of health and happiness, we will call
universal attention by descriptions, translated into all the languages of the earth. We will invite
visitors from every nation. We will offer it as a home and refuge for honest families.
forced to emigrate from overpopulated countries. Those unfortunate people also who are
driven into exile by foreign conquest. Can you wonder, gentlemen, that I think of them?
We'll find with us employment for their activity and scope for their intelligence, while they
will enrich our colony by their moral virtue and intellectual strength, possessions of far higher
value than gold or precious stones, we will found great colleges, where youth will be trained
and educated in principles based on the truest wisdom so as to develop and justly balance
their moral, physical and intellectual faculties, thus preparing future generations of strong
and virtuous men. No language can describe the tumult of enthusiasm which followed this
communication. For at least a quarter of an hour, the hall resounded with a storm of cheering and hurrahs.
Dr. Saracen sat down, and Lord Glandover, once more leaning towards him, murmured in his ear with a
knowing wink. Not a bad speculation that! What a revenue you would draw from the tolls, eh?
The thing would be sure to succeed, provided it were well started and backed up by
influential names, why all our convalescence and valetudinarians would be for settling there at once.
Be sure that you put down my name for a good building lot, doctor.
Poor Dr. Saracen was quite mortified by this determination to attribute his actions to a
covetous motive and was about to reply to his lordship when he heard the vice-president
move a vote of thanks to the author of the philanthropic proposal just submitted to the Assembly.
It would, he said, be to the eternal honour of the Brighton Conference, that an idea so sublime had been
originated there. It was an idea which nothing short of the most exalted benevolence and the
rarest generosity could have conceived. And yet, now that the idea had been suggested, it seemed almost a wonder
that it had never before occurred to anyone,
millions had been lavished on senseless wars,
vast capitals squandered in foolish speculations,
how infinitely better spent they might have been
in the furtherance of such a scheme as this.
The speaker, in conclusion, proposed,
that, in honor of its founder,
the new city should receive the name of Saracena.
This motion would have been carried by acclamation,
but Dr. Saracen interposed.
No, said he,
my name has nothing whatever to do with this scheme.
Neither let us bestow on the future city a fancy name
derived from Greek or Latin,
such as is often invented
and gives an air of affectation and peculiarity
to whatever bears it.
It will be the city of welfare and comfort.
It will be named after my country.
Let us call it.
Frankville. Everyone agreed to gratify Dr. Saracen in this by acceding to his choice,
and the first step was thus taken towards the founding of the city. The meeting then proceeded
to the discussion of other points and to this practical occupation, so unlike those to which
it was usually devoted, we will leave it, while we follow the wandering fortunes of the paragraph
published in the Daily Telegraph, copied word for word by all the newspapers. The information contained
in this little paragraph was soon blazed abroad over every county in England. In the whole
Gazette, it figured at the top of the second page in a copy of that modest journal, which on the 1st
November, arrived at Rotterdam on board of the three-masted collier, Queen Mary.
The act of scissors of the editor of the Belgian echo pounced upon it at once.
It was speedily translated into Flemish, the language of Coop and Potter, and on the wings of
steam it reached the Bremen Chronicle on the 2nd of November. In that paper our bit of news next
appeared, the same in substance, but clothed in a garb of German, the artful editor adding in
parenthesis, from our Brighton correspondent. The anecdote, now thoroughly Germanized, reached the
office of the editor of the Northern Gazette, and that great man gave it a place in the second column
of his third page. On the evening of the 3rd of November, after passing through these various
transformations, it made its entrance between the fat hands of a stout serving man into the study
of Professor Schultz of the University of Gina. High as this personage stood in the scale of
humanity, he presented nothing remarkable to the eye of a stranger. He was a man of five or six
and forty, strongly built, his square shoulders denoting a robust constitution, his five,
forehead was bald, the little hair remaining on his temples and behind his head suggested the idea
that they consisted of threads of tow. His eyes were blue, that vague blue, which never betrays a
thought. Professor Schultz had a large mouth, garnished with a double row of formidable teeth
which would never drop their prey, thin lips closed over them, whose principal employment was to keep
note of the words which passed between them.
The general appearance of the professor was decidedly unpleasant to others,
but he himself was evidently perfectly satisfied with it.
On hearing his servant enter, he raised his eyes to a very pretty clock over the mantelpiece,
which looked out of place among a number of vulgar articles around it,
and said in a quick, rough voice,
6.55! The post comes in at 6.30.
You bring my letters too late by 25 minutes. The next time they are not on my table at 6.30,
you quit my service. Will you please to dine now, sir? asked the man as he withdrew.
It is now 6.55, and I dine at 7. You have been here for three weeks, and you know that.
Recollect that I never change an hour and never repeat an order.
The professor laid his newspaper on the table and went on writing a treatise, which was to appear next day in physiological records, a periodical to which he contributed.
We may be permitted to state that this treatise was entitled, Why are all Frenchmen affected by different degrees of hereditary degeneracy?
As the professor pursued his task, his dinner consisting of a large dish,
of sausages and cabbage, flanked by a huge flagon of beer, was carefully placed on a round table
near the fire. He laid aside his pen in order to partake of this repast, which he did with greater
appearance of enjoyment than might have been expected from so grave an individual. Then he rang for coffee,
lighted his pipe, and resumed his labors. It was after midnight when he signed his name on the last
page and retired at once to his bedroom to enjoy a well-earned repose.
Not till he was in his bed did he take his paper from its cover and begin to read before going to
sleep. Just as the professor was becoming drowsy, his eye was caught by a foreign name,
that of Langaville, in the paragraph relating to the monster heritage. He tried to call to mind
clearly the vague recollections, to which this name gave rise. After a few minutes vainly devoted
to efforts of memory, he threw away the journal, blew out his candle, and loud snores quickly
gave notice that he slept. By a physiological phenomenon, which he himself had studied,
and explained at great length, this name of Languval followed Dr. Schultz, even in his dreams. The consequence was,
that on a waking next morning, he found himself mechanically repeating it.
All at once, just as he was going to look at his watch,
a sudden light broke upon him, snatching up the newspaper at the foot of his bed.
He read again and again, with his hand pressed on his forehead,
the paragraph which he had all but missed seeing the night before.
The light was evidently spreading to his brain,
for without waiting to put on his flowered dressing gown,
he hurried to the fireplace,
took a small miniature portrait from the wall by the mirror,
and turning it round,
past his sleeve over the dusty pasteboard at the back.
The professor was right.
Behind the picture he read the following words,
traced in faded ink.
Teresa Schultz,
Ina Gaborin,
Languval,
which means Teresa Schultz, whose maiden name was Languval. That evening the professor was in the express train on his way to London.
End of Section 3. Section 4 of the Begum's Fortune by Jules Verne, translated by W.H.G. Kingston.
This Lipper Fox recording is in the public domain.
Chapter 4
Two claimants.
On the 6th November at 7 a.m., Professor Schultz arrived at the Taring Cross Station.
At noon, he presented himself at number 94, Southampton Row, entering a large room, divided by a wooden barrier,
one side being for the clerks, the other for the public.
In it there were six chairs, a table, numberless green tin boxes, and a London directory.
Two young men, seated at the table, were quietly eating the traditional lunch of bread and cheese, usual with their class.
"'Mrs. Billows Green and Sharp,' said the professor, in the tone of a man calling for his dinner.
"'Mr. Sharp is in his private room. What name? On what business?
Professor Shultz of Gina on the lang of all business.'
This information was murmured into the speaking tube by the young clerk,
a reply being returned into his ear, which he did not choose to repeat.
Hang the lank of full business! Another fool come to put in a claim!
Clerk's answer,
This man seems respectable enough. Does not look exactly agreeable, though.
Another mysterious whisper conveyed the word.
and he comes from Germany.
So he says, with a sigh came the order.
Send him upstairs.
Second story, door facing you, said the clerk aloud, pointing to an inner entrance.
The professor plunged into the passage, mounted the stairs, and found himself opposite
a green bay's door on which the name of Mr. Sharp stood out in.
in black letters on a brass plate. A personage was seated at a large mahogany writing table
in a common-looking room with a felt carpet, leather chairs, and many open boxes. He half-rose
from his seat, and then, according to the polite fashion of businessmen, began to rummage
amongst his papers for several minutes to show how busy he was. At last, turning to Professor Schultz, who
remained standing near him, he said.
Have the goodness, sir, to tell me your business here in as few words as possible.
My time is limited.
I can give you but a very few minutes.
The professor smiled slightly, evidently not at all put out by the way he was received.
Perhaps, he said, when you know what brings me here, you will think it advisable to grant
me a few minutes more.
proceed, sir.
My business relates to the inheritance, left by Jean-Jacques Languval of Bardolk.
I am the grandson of the elder sister, Teresa Languval, who married in 1792, my grandfather, Martin
Schultz, a surgeon in the Army of Brunswick. He died in 1814. I have in my possession three
letters from my great-uncle written to his sister, and,
many accounts of his return home after the Battle of Gina, besides the legal documents which
proved my birth. We need not follow Professor Schultz through the Prolix explanations which he gave
to Mr. Sharp. On this point, he seemed contrary to his nature, quite inexhaustible. His aim was to
demonstrate to this Englishman, this Mr. Sharp, that by rights the German race should in all things
predominate over all others. His object in putting forward a claim to this inheritance was chiefly that it might
be snatched from French hands, which could not fail to make a silly use of it. What he hated in his rival
was his nationality. Had he been a German, he certainly would not have interfered, etc., etc.
But that a Frenchman, a would-be savant, should have this enormous wealth to spend
upon French fancies was distracting to his feelings, and he considered it his duty to contest
his right to it at all costs. At first sight the connection between these political opinions
and the opulent inheritance in question was not very clear, but the experienced eye of the
man of business plainly detected the relation with patriotic ambition for the advantage of the
German nation generally, bore to the private interests of Professor Schultz individually.
He saw that this apparently double aim had in reality but one motive.
There is no doubt about it, however humiliating it might be for a professor of the University
of Gina, to be connected with beings of an inferior race, it was evident that a French
ancestors had had a share in the responsibility of giving to the world this matchless human being.
But this relationship being in a secondary degree to that Dr. Saracen would only give secondary rights
to the said inheritance. The solicitor perceived, however, the possibility of lawfully sustaining
them, and in this possibility he foresaw another which would be much to the advantage of Billow's
green and sharp, something which would change the length of all affair, already productive,
into a very good thing indeed, a second case of the jaundice versus jaundice of Dickens.
An extensive horizon of stamped papers, deeds, documents of all sorts,
rose before the eyes of the man of law, and what was worth more. He saw a compromise conducted
by himself, Sharp, to the interest of both his clients, which would bring to himself equal parts
of honour and profit. In the meanwhile he made known to Professor Schultz, the claims of Dr. Saracen,
gave him proofs in corroboration, and insinuated that if Billows Green and Sharp undertook
to make something advantageous for the professor out of the claims, shadowy though they are, my
dear sir, it would, I fear, not hold water in a lawsuit, which his relationship to the doctor gave him.
He hoped that, the remarkable sense of justice, possessed by all Germans, would admit that to
Measures, billows, green, and sharp, he, the professor, owed a large debt of gratitude.
The latter was practical enough to understand the drift of this argument,
and soon put the mind of the businessman at rest on this point,
though without committing himself in any way,
Mr. Sharp politely bade permission to examine into the affair at his leisure,
showed him out with marked respect,
nothing more having been said as to the very limited time
of which before he had been so sparing.
Professor Schultz retired, convinced that he had no sufficient claim
to put forward for the Begham's and hands.
but all the same persuaded that a struggle between the Saxon and Latin races, besides being
always meritorious, would not fail if set about properly to turn to the advantage of the former.
The next important step was to get Dr. Saracen's opinion on the subject. A telegraph dispatched
immediately to Brighton had the effect of bringing that gentleman to Mr. Sharp's office by five o'clock.
Dr. Saracen heard all that had occurred with a calmness which astonished the solicitor.
He frankly declared that he perfectly remembered a tradition in his family of a great-aunt,
brought up by a rich entitled lady who had emigrated with her and who had married in Germany.
He knew neither the name nor the exact degree of relationship of this great-aunt.
Mr. Sharp was busily looking over his notes, carefully numbered in Port.
which he now exhibited with considerable complacency to the doctor.
There was. Mr. Sharp did not seek to hide it. Matter for a lawsuit, and lawsuits of this character
may easily be lengthened out. Indeed, it was not at all necessary to acknowledge to the adverse
party that family tradition which Dr. Saracen had, in his honesty, just now confided to him.
his solicitor. To be sure, there were those letters from Jean-Jacques Langville to his sister,
of which Professor Schultz had spoken, and which were a point in his favor. A very small point,
indeed, destitute of any legal character, but still a point. No doubt other proofs would be
exhumed from the dust of municipal archives, perhaps even the adverse party, in default of
authentic documents, would even dare to manufacture false ones. Everything must be foreseen.
Who knew but that fresh investigations might assign to this Teresa Langofo and her descendants
who had suddenly started showing up? Superior claims to Dr. Saracens. In any case,
there would be long disputes, tedious examinations, no end of them. There was good hope of success
for both sides, each could easily form a limited liability company to advance the cost of the
proceedings, and exhaust all the pleas of jurisdiction. A celebrated suit of the same sort had been in the
Court of Chancery for 83 consecutive years, and was only ended at last for want of funds. Interest
in capital, all had gone. What with inquiries, commissions, transfers,
the proceedings would take an indefinite period.
In ten years' time, the question would probably still be undecided,
and the twenty-one millions still sleeping quietly in the bank.
Dr. Saracen listened to this long-winded oration
and wondered when it would come to an end,
without taking for gospel all that he heard.
He felt a kind of chilly discouragement creeping over him,
as a voyager gazes from the ship's bows at the port, to which he believes himself approaching,
but sees it growing less and less distinct, and finally disappearing as his vessel drifts away from the
land. He told himself that it was not impossible that this fortune just now so near,
and for which he had already found a use, would end by slipping from his grasp, and fade away.
Then what is to be done?
He asked up the solicitor.
What is to be done?
That was difficult to say, more difficult still to decide, but no doubt everything would be arranged in the end.
He, Sharp, was certain of that.
English law was excellent, a little slow, perhaps, but he could not help saying so,
yes, decidedly slow, pitiful.
But all the more, sure. Assuredly, Dr. Saracen could not fail in the course of a few years
to be in possession of this inheritance, always supposing his claims sufficient.
The doctor issued from the office in Southampton Row very much shaken in his confidence,
and convinced that he must either plunge into an interminable lawsuit or give up his dream.
The thoughts that his fine philanthropic scheme must come to nothing gave him keen pain.
In the meantime, Mr. Sharp sent for Professor Schultz, who had left his address.
He told him that Dr. Saracen had never heard of Teresa Langoval, denied the existence of a German branch of the family,
and rejected any idea of a compromise. There was nothing that the professor could do, therefore,
if he believed his right well-established.
But to go to law.
From this, Mr. Sharp, who was perfectly disinterested, of course, and was a mere spectator in
the matter, had no intention of dissuading him.
What more could a solicitor wish than a lawsuit of perhaps 30 years, and not knowing
to what it might lead them?
He, personally, would be delighted.
If he had not feared that Professor Schultz would think it's suspicious on his part,
he would have pushed his disinterestedness so far as to recommend to him one of his legal brethren,
who would look after his interests. And indeed, the choice was an important one. The path of law
had now become a regular high road, swarming with adventurers and robbers, he owned this shameful
fact, though with a blush.
supposing the French doctor was willing to arrange the matter, how much would it cost?
asked the professor. Being a wise man, words could not confuse him. Being a practical man, he went
straight to the point without wasting any precious time on the way. Mr. Sharp was rather
disconcerted by this mode of action. He represented to Professor Schultz that business did not go
on so quickly as all that, that no one could see the end, when as yet they were just at the
beginning, that in order to bring Dr. Saracen to terms, they must protract the business,
so as not to allow him to see that he, Schultz, was at all eager to compromise matters.
I beg, sir, he concluded, that you will leave it to me, put yourself in my hands,
and I will be answerable for everything.
"'Very well,' replied Schultz.
"'But I should much like to know what I have to expect.'
However, he could not ascertain from Mr. Sharp
the price at which the solicitor valued Saxon gratitude
and was therefore obliged to give him carte blanche in the matter.
When Dr. Saracen appeared next day in answer to Mr. Sharp's summons
and quietly asked if he had any particular news for him,
the solicitor, alarmed at his calmness, informed him that a serious examination had convinced him
that the better plan would be to nip the threatened danger in the bud and propose to compromise with this new
claimant. Dr. Saracen must agree with him that this was essentially disinterested advice
and what few solicitors in Mr. Sharp's place would have given. But he felt quite a paternal interest
in the affair, and his pride was concerned.
and bringing it to a speedy conclusion. The doctor listened and thought all this sensible enough.
During the last few days he had become so accustomed to the idea of immediately realizing his
scientific dream that everything gave way to it. To wait ten years or even one year before he
had it in his power would have been a cruel trial to him without being taken in by Mr. Sharp's
fine speeches, although little familiar with legal and financial questions, he would have cheerfully
given up his claims for a sum paid down in ready money sufficient to enable him to pass at once
from theory to practice. He also, therefore, at once, gave carte blanche to Mr. Sharp and departed.
The solicitor had now got what he wanted. It was quite true that perhaps another
might in his place have yielded to the temptation of beginning and prolonging a lawsuit,
which would bring in a considerable annuity to his business. But Mr. Sharp was not a man who cared
for this kind of speculation. He saw close to his hand a way by which he could reap an abundant
harvest, and he resolved to seize it. The next day he wrote to the doctor that he believed
Herr Schultz was not opposed to a compromise. In subsequent visits made by him to the doctor and
professor, he told them alternately that the adverse party would say nothing decided, and that,
in addition, a third candidate, attracted by the scent, was talked of. This little game went on for a
week. In the morning, all was going well, but by the evening an unforeseen objection had such
suddenly arisen to upset everything. The honest doctor was incessantly troubled by doubts,
fears, and changes of mind. Mr. Sharp could not bring himself to hook his fish. He so greatly
feared that at last he would struggle and snap the line. But so many precautions were, in this
case, quite superfluous. From the very first day, Dr. Saracen, who would have done anything to spare
himself the trouble of a lawsuit, was ready for any arrangement.
When at last, Mr. Sharp thought that the psychological moment, to use the celebrated expression,
had arrived, or in less exalted language, that his client was done to a turn, he suddenly
unmasked his batteries and proposed an immediate compromise.
A benevolent man then appeared.
the banker Stilbing, who proposed to split the difference, to give to each 10 millions,
and merely have for commission the surplus million.
Dr. Saracen could have embraced Mr. Sharp when he made him this proposal.
It seemed splendid to him.
He was ready and eager to sign.
He would have liked to put up in the marketplace of the proposed city,
golden statues to the banker Stilbing, to the solicitor Sharp,
to the bank and to all the lawyers in the United Kingdom. The documents were drawn up,
and everything was ready. Professor Schultz had surrendered, Mr. Sharp assuring him that,
with a less easy-tempered adversary, he would certainly have had all costs to pay,
so it was settled. The two heirs each received a check for a hundred thousand pounds,
payable at sight, and a promise of a definite settlement after all the legal formalities had been
gone through. Thus was this wonderful affair settled to the great glory of the Anglo-Saxon race.
We are assured that that same evening, whilst dining at the Cobden Club with his friend Stilbing,
Mr. Sharp drank a glass of champagne to the health of Dr. Saracen,
another to Professor Schultz, and then, as he finished the bottle, gave way to this somewhat
indiscreet exclamation.
Hurrah!
Rule, Britannia!
We've got the best of it this time!
The truth is that the banker Stilbing considered his friend rather stupid for not having made a
great deal more out of the business, and in his heart the professor had thought that
the same, from the moment in which he had felt himself obliged to agree to any arrangement that
was offered. What could not have been done with a man like Dr. Saracen, a Celt, careless,
thoughtless, and very certainly visionary? The professor had heard of his rival's project of
founding a French town under such moral and physical conditions as would develop the qualities
of the race and form strong and brave generations.
This enterprise appeared to him, absurd, and to his ideas sure to fail, as it opposed the law
of progress, which decreed the uprooting of the Latin race, its subjection to the Saxon,
and eventually its disappearance from the surface of the globe.
However, these results might be held in check, if,
the doctor's program began to be realized, and so much the more if there was any prospect of its
success. It was, therefore, the duty of every true Saxon, in the interest of general order,
to obey this appointed law, and bring to nothing if he could, this insane enterprise.
Under the circumstances it was quite clear that he, Schultz, MD, private docent of chemistry in Gina University, known by his numerous works on the different human races, works in which it was proved that the German race was to absorb all others. It was quite clear that he was particularly designed by the great creative and destructive force of nature to annihilate the pygmies who were struggling against it.
From the very beginning it had been ordained that Teresa Langovoa would marry Martin Schultz,
and that one day the two nationalities meeting in the persons of the French doctor
and the German professor, the latter would crush the former.
Although he had in his possession half the doctor's fortune, this was the weapon he was to wield.
This project was but a secondary one to Professor Schultz at present.
He merely added it to other still more vast, which he had formed for the destruction of all nations,
who refused to blend themselves with the German people and be united with the fodderland.
However, wishing to explore to the end, if so that they had an end of Dr. Saracen's plans,
he attended all the meetings of the Congress.
As several members with Dr. Saracen himself among them were leaving the meeting,
the professor was overheard to make this declaration that he would found at the same time as Frankville,
a city strong enough to put an end to that absurd and abnormal enthill.
I hope, he added, that the experiment we shall make will serve as an example to all the world.
Although good Dr. Saracen was so full of love to all mankind, he had lived,
long enough to know that all his fellow creatures did not deserve the name of philanthropists.
He noted, however, this speech of his adversary, thinking like a sensible man, that no threat
ought to be neglected. Some time afterwards, writing to Max to invite him to aid in his enterprise,
he mentioned this incident, and described to Herr Schultz so accurately, that the young Alsatian
was certain the doctor had in him a formidable adversary.
The doctor added,
We shall need bold and energetic men of practical information,
not only to build, but to defend us.
Max answered,
Oh, though I cannot immediately give my cooperation to the founding of your city,
you may depend on finding me when the right time comes.
I shall not lose sight for a single day,
of this Professor Schultz, whom you have described so well, my old session birth gives me the right
to know about his affairs. Whether I am near you or far away, I am devoted to you. If, by any
unforeseen chance, you should be some months, or even years, without hearing from me, do not be
uneasy. Whether I am near you or far away, I shall have but one thought.
to work for you, and consequently to serve France.
End of Section 4.
Section 5 of the Begham's Fortune by Jules Verne,
translated by W.G.H. Kingston.
This Liprovox recording is in the public domain.
Chapter 5. Stolstadt.
We must take a leap through time and space.
Five years have 11.
since the two heirs took possession of the Bacon's inheritance. The scene lies in the United States,
to the south of Oregon, ten leagues from the shores of the Pacific. The district is mountainous,
its northern limits as yet barely defined by the two neighboring powers. A merely superficial
spectator might call it the American Switzerland, with its abrupt peaks rising above the clouds,
its deep valleys dividing the heights, its aspect at once grand and wild.
But unlike the European Switzerland, it is not given up to the peaceful industries of the
shepherd, the guide, and the hotel keeper. It has alpine decorations only, just a crust of rocks
and earth and venerable pines spread over a mass of iron and coal. Should the traveler through these
solitudes stay on his way, to listen a while to the voice of nature. He would not, as on the slopes of
Oberland, hear the gentle murmurs of insect life, or the herd boys call enhancing the silence of the
mountain. On his ear, in this wild spot, would fall the heavy sound of the steam hammer, and under his
feet would echo the muffled explosions of powder. He would feel as if the ground
was as full of trap doors as the stage of a theater, and that at any moment even the huge rocks
might sink and disappear into unknown depths. Derry roads, black with cinders and coke,
wind round the sides of the mountain, heaps of variegated scoria, which the scanty herbage fails to
cover, glancing glare like the eyes of a basilisk. Here and there yawns the shaft of a deserted mind,
A dark gulf, the mouth grown over with briars.
The air is heavy with smoke and hangs like a pall above the ground.
Not a bird nor an insect is to be found, and a butterfly has not been seen within the memory of man.
At the northern point, where the mountain spurs slope into the plain, lies between two ranges of bleak hills, what up to 1871, was called the Red Plain.
because of the color of the soil, which is impregnated with oxide of iron, but what is now called
Stollfeld, or the field of steel. Just imagine a plateau of 17 or 18 square miles. The soil sandy and
strewn with pebbles, and altogether as arid and desolate as the ancient bed of some inland sea.
Nature has done nothing towards giving life and movement to the place, but man has brought a wonderful amount of energy and vigor to bear on it. In five years, there sprang up on this bare and rocky plain, 18 villages, composed of small wooden houses, all alike, brought ready-built from Chicago, and containing a large population of rough workmen.
In the midst of these villages, at the very foot of the coal butts, as the inexhaustible mountains of coal are called,
rises a dark mass, huge and strange, an agglomeration of regular buildings, pierced with symmetrical windows,
covered with red roofs, and surmounted by a forest of cylindrical chimneys, which continually
vomit forth clouds of dense smoke. Through the black curtain which veils the sky, dark red,
lightning-like flames, while a distant roaring is heard resembling that of thunder, or the beating
of the surf on a rocky shore. This erection is Stolstadt, Steel Town, the German city and the personal
property of Professor Schultz, the ex-chemistry professor of Gina, who has become by means of the
Biggham's millions, the greatest iron worker, and especially the greatest canon founder of the two
hemispheres. He cast guns of all shapes and of all calibers, smooth and rifled boars for Russia,
Turkey, Romania, Japan, for Italy and for China, but particularly for Germany. With the aid of his
enormous capital, this large establishment, which is at the same time a regular town, started up as at the
wave of a conjurer's wand. 30,000 workmen, Germans for the most part, crowded to it, and settled themselves
in the suburbs. In a few months, its products, owing to their overwhelming
superiority, acquired universal celebrity. Professor Schultz digs out iron and coal from his own
minds, which lie ready to his hand, changes them into steel and again into cannon, all on the
spot. What none of his competitors can do, he manages. In France, ingots of steel are obtained
80,000 pounds in weight. In England, a hundred-ton Ghana.
has been cast. At Essen, M. Krupp has contrived to cast blocks of steel of 10 hundred thousand pounds.
Harris Schultz does not stop at that. He knows no limits. Order a cannon of him? Of whatever weight
and power you like? He'll turn you out that cannon, as bright as a new halfpenny,
exactly at the time agreed on. But he makes his customers pay for it. It is as if the
the 250 millions of 1871 had only given him an appetite for more. In guncasting, as in everything else,
the man who can do what others cannot is sure to be well off. Indeed, Schultz's cannon not only
attained to an unprecedented size, but although they may deteriorate slightly by use,
they never burst. Stollstacht steel seems to have special
properties. There are many stories current of mysterious chemical mixtures, but one thing is certain
that no one has discovered the invaluable secret. Another thing certain is that in Stolstadt,
that secret is guarded with the most jealous care. In this remote corner of North America,
surrounded by deserts, isolated from the world by a rampart of mountains, 500 miles from
the nearest town or habitation of any sort, we may search in vain for the smallest vestige
of that liberty which is the foundation principle of the United States. On arriving under the walls
of Stolstadt, it is useless to try and enter one of the massive gateways, which here and there
break the line of moats and fortifications. The sternest of sentinels will repulse the traveler. He must go
back to the suburbs. He cannot enter the city of steel unless he possesses the magic formula,
the password, or at any rate, an order duly stamped, signed, and countersigned. One November morning,
a young workman arrived at Stolstadt, who doubtlessly possessed such an order, for after leaving
his well-worn portmanteau at an inn, he directed his steps to the gateway nearest the village.
He was a fine, strongly built young fellow, dressed in a loose coat, woolen shirt, with no collar,
and trousers of ribbed velveteen tucked into big boots. He pulled his wide felt hat over his eyes,
as if to conceal the coal dust, with which his skin was begrimed, and walked forward with elastic
step, whistling through his brown mustache. Arrived at the gateway, the young man showing a
printed paper to the officer of the gate was immediately admitted.
Your order is addressed to the foreman, Seligman, Section K wrote nine workshop seven-four-three,
said the Sentinel. You must follow the roundway to your right till you come to the K boundary,
and there show yourself to the porter. Do you know the rule? Expelled if you enter another section
than your own, he added as the newcomer went away. The young workman followed the direction
indicated to him along the roadway. On his right lay a moat, above which marched numerous sentinels.
On his left, between the wide circular road and the massive buildings lay first a double line of
railway, and then a second wall, similar to the outer one, which entirely surrounded the steel city.
It was of so great an extent that the sections enclosed by the fortified walls like the spokes of a
wheel, were perfectly independent of each other, although surrounded by the same wall and moat.
The young workman soon reached the boundary, Kay, placed at the side of the road, before a lofty gateway,
surmounted by the same ladder, sculptured in the stone, and presented himself to the porter.
This time, instead of having a soldier to deal with, he found himself before a pensioner,
with a wooden leg and metals on his breast. The pensioner examined the paper, stamped it again,
and said, all right, ninth road on the left. The young man entered the second entrenched line,
and at last found himself in Section K. The road which debouched from the gate was the axle,
and at right angles on either side extended rows of uniform buildings. The noise of machinery was
almost deafening. Those gray buildings pierced with thousands of windows were like living
monsters, but the newcomer was apparently accustomed to such scenes, for he bestowed not the
slightest attention on the curious sight. In five minutes he had found Road 9 Workshop 743,
and having entered a little office full of portfolios and registers, stood in the presence of the foreman
Seligman. The man took the paper with all its stamps, examined it, then looked the young workmen
up and down. Hired a peddler, are you? He asked. You seem very young. Age has nothing to do with it,
was the answer. I shall soon be six and twenty, and I've been peddling for the last seven months.
If you like, I can show you certificates on the strength of which I was engaged at New York by the
head overseer. The young man spoke German quite easily, but with a slight accent, which seemed to
arouse the suspicions of the foreman.
Are you an Alsatian? he demanded. No, I'm Swiss from Schofhausen. Look, here are all of my papers
quite correct, he added, taking out a leather pocketbook and showing a passport, testimonial, and
certificates. Very good. After all, you are hired, and it's my business simply to show you your place,
returned Seligman, assured by this display of official documents. He then inscribed in a register the
name of Johann Schwartz, copying it from the order, and gave to the workman a blue card,
bearing his name and the number 57,938, adding,
You must be at the K-gate every morning at 7 o'clock.
Show this card which will already have passed you through the outer wall.
Take from the rack in the lodge a counter with your number on it
and show it to me when you come in.
At 7 in the evening as you go out, drop the counter into a box placed at the door of the workshop
and only open at that time.
I know the system.
Can I live in the town?
asked Schwartz.
No, you must find a lodging outside,
but you can get your meals at the canteen in the shed
at a very moderate price.
Your wages are a dollar a day to begin with,
but they will be raised quarterly.
Expulsion is the only punishment.
It is pronounced by me at first
and by the engineer on appeal
for any infraction of the,
the rules. Will you begin today? Why not? It will be about half a day, observed the foreman,
as he guided Schwartz to an inner gallery. The two men walked along a wide passage,
crossed a yard and entered a vast hall, like the patform of an immense terminus.
Schwartz, as he glanced round, could not restrain a movement of professional admiration.
On each side of the long hall were two rows of enormous.
enormous columns, as big as those in St. Peter's at Rome, their tops rising through the glass
roof. These were the chimneys of the puddling furnaces, and there were 50 of them in a row.
At one end, engines were continually bringing up wagon loads of iron to feed the furnaces. At the other,
empty trucks appeared, to receive and carry away the metal, transformed into steel. This metamorphosis is a
accomplished by means of the operation of puddling, at which gangs of half-naked cyclops,
armed with long iron rakes, were working with might and main. The pigs of iron are thrown
into a furnace brought to an intense heat. As soon as melted, the metal is stirred about for a
considerable time. When it acquires a certain consistency, the puddler, by means of his long hook,
turns and rolls about the molten mass, and makes it up into four blooms or balls, which he then
hands over to others. The operation is continued in the midst of the hall. Opposite each furnace
stands a shingling hammer, moved by steam, protected by boots and armlets of iron, the head
covered by a metallic veil, and wearing a thick leathern apron, the shingler with his long pinters,
takes up the red-hot ball and places it under the hammer. Down on it comes the weight of the
ponderous machine, pressing out a quantity of dross amidst showers of sparks. When it cools,
it is taken back to the furnace to be brought out again and hammered as before. There was
incessant movement in this monster forge. To a spectator, it was a terrifying scene,
the cascades of molten metal, dull blows heard above the roaring, showers of brilliant sparks,
the glare of the red-hot furnaces. In the fearful din and tumult, man appeared like a helpless
infant. Powerful fellows must these peddlers be. To stir and need four hundred weight of metallic
paste in that temperature, to see nothing for hours but the blinding glare of the fire of the
furnace and molten iron, is trying work, and wears a man out in ten years.
Schwartz, as if to show the foreman what he could do, at once, stripped off his coat and
woolen shirt, exhibiting a well-knit frame, and arms on which the muscles stood out like
cords, seized a hook which one of the puddlers had just put down and set to work.
seeing that he was likely to do well, the foreman soon left and returned to his office.
The newcomer worked on until the dinner hour, but he was either too energetic,
or he had neglected to take sufficient food that morning to support his strength in this unusual toil,
for he soon appeared tired and faint. Indeed, so worn out did he seem that the chief of his gang noticed it.
You're not fit for a peddler, my lad.
he said, and you had best ask it once to be changed into another section, for they won't do it
later. Schwartz protested against this. It was but a passing faintness. He could puddle as well as
anyone. The gangstman made his report, however, and Schwartz was immediately called up before the chief
engineer. This personage examined his papers, shook his head, and asked in an inquisitorial tone.
Were you a puddler at Brooklyn? The young man looked down in confusion.
I must confess it, I see, he answered. I was employed in casting, and it was in the hope of
increasing my salary that I wished to try my hand at puddling. You are all alike, returned the
engineer shrugging his shoulders. At five and twenty, you think you can do what few men of five
and thirty are fit for. Well, then, are you good at casting? I was two months in the first class.
You had better have stayed in it. Here you will have to begin in the third. All the same,
you may think yourself lucky in being allowed to change your section so easily.
The engineer then wrote a few words on a pass, sent a telegram.
and said,
Give up your counter,
leave this division
and go straight to Section O,
Chief Engineer's Office.
He's been told.
The same formalities were gone through again
that Schwartz had met with at the Kay Gate,
as in the morning he was questioned,
accepted,
and sent to the foreman of the workshop,
who introduced him into the casting hall,
but here the work was more silent
and more methodical.
This is only a small gallery,
for casting 42-pounders, observed the foreman.
First-class workmen alone are allowed to cast the big guns.
The small gallery was not less than 450 feet long and 200 wide.
Schwartz, as he glanced around, calculated that there must be at least
600 crucibles being heated by four, eight, or twelve, together in the side furnaces.
The molds destined for the reception of the fused steel were placed down the middle of the gallery at the bottom of a trench.
On each side of the trench was a movable crane, which, running on a line of rails, was constantly in use for moving enormous weights.
As in the puddling hall, at one end was a railroad for the conveyance of the bars of steel,
at the other one for taking away the cannon as they came out of the mold.
Near each mold stood a man armed with an iron rod to test the state of fusion of the metal in the crucibles.
The processes which Schwartz had seen put in practice elsewhere were here brought to a remarkable state of perfection.
When a cast was to be made, a warning bell gave the signal to all the watchers of the crucibles.
Then two by two, workmen of equal height, bearing between them on their shoulders a horse,
horizontal bar of iron came with measured step and placed themselves before every furnace.
An officer armed with a whistle, his chronometer in his hand, stood near the mold, conveniently
placed for all the furnaces in action. On each side, channels of refractory earth, covered with
metal, converged in gentle slopes to a funnel-shaped reservoir, placed just above the mold. The officer
whistled. Immediately, a crucible taken from the fire with pinchers was slung on the iron bar
supported by the two workmen. The whistle commenced a series of modulations, and the two men,
keeping time to it, approached and emptied the contents of their crucible into the corresponding
channel. Then they tossed their empty, still red-hot receptacle, into a vat. Without interruption,
at regular intervals, so as to keep up a constant flow, gangs from the other furnaces went through
exactly the same operation. It was all executed with such wonderful precision that just at the
appointed time the last crucible was emptied and flung into the vat. The maneuver seemed rather
the result of a blind mechanism than the cooperation of a hundred human wills. Inflexible discipline,
the force of habit and the power of the measured musical strain worked the miracle.
The sight appeared familiar to Schwartz, who was soon coupled with a man of his own height,
tested in a small cast, and found a capital workman.
Indeed, the head of his gang at the close of the day promised him a speedy rise.
On leaving the Section O at 7 that evening, he went back to the inn to fetch him.
his portmanteau. Then, following one of the exterior roads, he soon came to a group of houses,
which he had remarked that morning as he passed, and easily found a lodging in the cottage of a good
woman who took in a lodger. After supper the young workman did not, like too many of his class,
stroll out to the nearest public house. He shut himself in his room, took from his pocket a
fragment of steel, evidently picked up in the puddling shed, a little crucible earth from
the O section, and examined them carefully by the light of a smoky lamp. Then, taking from his
portmanteau a thick manuscript book, half full of notes, receipts, and calculations, he wrote
the following in good French, though for precaution in a cipher of which he alone knew the key.
November 10th, Stolstadt.
There is nothing particular in the mode of peddling, unless, of course, it is the choice of two different temperatures,
relatively low for the first heat and the reheating, according to Sharnov's rules.
As to the casting, it is done after Krupp's process, but with a perfectly admirable uniformity of movement.
This precision in maneuvers is the great German power.
It results from the innate musical talent in the German race.
The English could never attain to this perfection. They have no ear and want discipline. The French may reach it easily, as they are the most perfect dancers in the world. So far, there appears to be nothing mysterious in the remarkable success of this manufacture. The mineral specimens, which I picked up on the mountain, are similar to our best iron. The coal is certainly uncommonly fine of an eminently metallurgy quality, but still there is a small.
nothing unusual in it. There is no doubt that in the Schwartz manufacturer special care is taken to
purify the principal materials from any foreign matter, that they may be employed only in a
perfectly pure state. The result may easily be imagined. To be in possession of the remainder of the
problem, I have only to determine the composition of the refractory earth, of which the crucibles
and the channels are made. This discovered, and our again,
gangs of workmen properly drilled. I do not see why we should not do what they do here.
All the same, as yet I have only seen two sections, and there are at least four and twenty,
without counting the central building, the plans and models department, the secret cabinet.
What dangerous schemes may not be maturing in that den? What may not our friends have to fear,
after the threat uttered by Herr Schultz, when he took
possession of his fortune. After these questions, Schwartz, who was tired enough with his day's work,
undressed, laid himself down in a little bed, which was about as uncomfortable as a German bed could be,
and that is saying a good deal, lighted his pipe and began to smoke and read a well-worn book.
But his thoughts were apparently elsewhere, the odorous clouds issued from his lips as if they were saying,
Pooh, poo, poo, poo.
He soon put down his book, and remained lost in thought for a long time, as if he were absorbed in the solution of a difficult problem.
Ah, he exclaimed at last. Though the devil himself should try to prevent me, I will find out the secret of Professor Schultz, and above all what he is meditating against Frankville.
Schwartz went to sleep, murmuring the name of Dr. Saracen, but in his dreams it was the name of Jeanette,
sweet little Jeanette, that was on his lips. He had never forgotten the little girl,
although Jeanette, since he last saw her, had grown into a young lady. This phenomenon is
easily explained by the ordinary laws of the association of ideas. Thoughts of the doctor brought up
that of his daughter, association by contiguity. Then, when Schwartz, or rather Max
Brookman, awoke, having still Jeanette in his mind, he was not at all astonished,
but found in this fact a fresh proof of the excellence of the psychological principles of John
Stuart Mill.
End of Section 5.
Section 6 of the Begham's Fortune by Jules Verne, translated by W. H.G. Kingston.
This Librevox recording is in the public domain.
Chapter 6. The All Brecht Pit
Frau Bauer, Max Brookman's Goodlandlady, was a Swiss by birth and widow of a minor
who was killed four years previously in one of those accidents, which make a minor,
life so precarious. She was allowed a small annual pension of $30, and in addition, the wages of her
boy, Carl, brought regularly to her every Sunday. She was enabled slightly to increase her income
by letting a furnished room. Although scarcely 13, Carl was employed in the coal mine as a trapper,
it being his duty to open and shut one of the ventilator doors, whenever it was,
it was necessary for the coal trucks to pass. His mother had her house on lease, and as it was too far
from the Albrecht pit for him to come home every evening, he had obtained some night work
at the bottom of the same mine. It was not heavy, being merely to look after six horses,
whilst the man who had charge of them during the day spent the night above ground.
Carl's young life was passed, therefore, almost entirely 1,500 feet below the surface of the earth.
All day he kept watch by his door, all night he slept on a bed of straw near his horses.
On Sunday mornings only did he return to the light of day to revel for a few short hours in the universal blessing of the sun, the blue sky, and his mother's smile.
as may be imagined after such a week, on coming up from the pit, he was hardly what would be called presentable.
Indeed, he was more like a young gnome, a sweep, or a negro than anything else.
Frau Bauer had always a large supply of hot water and soap ready, and devoted a good hour the first thing to scrubbing him.
She next dressed him in a comfortable suit of dark green cloth, made from an old one of his
fathers, and kept all the week in a big deal cupboard, and then set to work to admire her boy,
an occupation of which she never tired, for she thought him the handsomest in the world.
When the layer of cold dust was washed off, Carl was really as good-looking as most boys,
His golden, silky locks, his pleasant blue eyes, well suited his fair complexion, but he was altogether
too small for his age. His sunless life made him as white as a turn-up, and had Dr. Saracen's
Comte Globios been applied to the blood of the young miner, it would probably have revealed that
he possessed a very insufficient quantity. In character, he was rather silent and quiet, with some
of that pride which the feeling of constant danger, the habit of regular work, and the satisfaction
of difficulties overcome, gives to all miners. His greatest happiness was to sit near his mother
at the square table in their little kitchen and arrange in a box a large number of frightful
insects brought from the bowels of the earth. The warm and equal atmosphere of the minds has its
special fauna, little known by naturalists, just as the damp walls of the pits have their flora
of curious mosses, mushrooms, and lichens. The engineer Molesmule, who was fond of entomology,
had remarked this and had promised a small reward for each new specimen that Carl brought him,
this, which at first led the boy to explore all the recesses of the mine, had gradually taught him
to be a collector. He now sought for insects on his own account. However, he did not limit his affections
to spiders and woodlice. He was on intimate terms with two bats and a big rat. If he was to be believed,
these three animals were the most intelligent and amiable creatures in the world, even more
intellectual than the horses with long silky manes and shining sides, of which Carl always spoke
in terms of warm admiration. Blair Athel was chief favorite, the eldest in the stable,
a philosophical old horse, who had been for six years fifteen hundred feet below the level of the sea,
and had all that time never seen the light of day. He was now nearly blind, but how well he
knew his way along the subterranean labyrinth, when to turn to the right or went to the left,
as he drew his trucks without ever missing a step. He always stopped at the right time before the
trap, leaving just enough room to open it. In what a friendly way did he, nay, morning and evening,
at the exact minute when it was time for his provender to be brought him. How good, how obedient,
how gentle he was. I declare, mother, he really gives me a kiss by rubbing,
his cheek against mine when I put my head near him, said Carl. And he is wonderfully useful,
besides, mind you, for he is just like a clock. Without him we should never know whether it was
night or day, morning or evening. So, chattered the boy, and Dame Bauer listened to him with delight.
She, too, loved Blair Athel as much as her son did, and never failed to send him a lump of sugar.
She would have given anything to go and see the old servant her husband had known,
and at the same time visit the dismal place where poor Bower's body, black as ink, carbonized by the fire damp, had been found after the explosion.
But women are not admitted into the mines, and she had to be satisfied with the vivid descriptions given by her son.
Ah, she knew that mine well, that dark pit to which her husband went down and never returned.
How many times she had waited near the yawning mouth, 18 feet in diameter, looking along the walling
of freestone, gazing at the oaken framework to which the corves were drawn up by cables and
pulleys of steel, visited the outworks, the engine shed, the scorers hut, and the rest. How many times had she
warmed herself the glowing brazier where the miners dry their garments on emerging from the pit,
and the impatient smokers light their pipes. How familiar she was with all the noise and
activity of the place. The receivers who unhooked the loaded corves, the sorders, washers,
enginemen, stokers, she had watched them all at work over and over again. What she could not see,
and yet could always picture with the eyes of affection
was what happened when the basket sank down,
carrying its cluster of workmen,
with formerly her husband,
and now her only child among them.
She could hear their voices in laughter,
growing fainter and fainter in the depths,
and finally ceasing altogether.
In her thoughts she followed that frail basket
as it was lowered,
down, down the narrow chimney, 15, 18, 100 feet, 14 times the height of the Great Pyramid,
till it arrived at the bottom, and the men hastened off to their work. She imagined them all dispersing
to different parts of the subterranean town, some to the right, some to the left,
pickers armed with strong pickaxes to attack the blocks of coal, shores, to bank up
places once the coal had been hollowed, carpenters, to put up woodwork, laborers, to repair the roads
and lay down rails, masons to cement the roofs. A wide central gallery led from this shaft to another,
a ventilator about a mile distant. At right angles from this spread secondary roads, and in parallel
lines smaller ones again. These roads were separated by walls and pillars of coal.
or rock. All was regular, square, solid, black. And this labyrinth of Rhodes was alive with half-naked
miners, working, talking, laughing by the light of their safety lamps. All this Dame Bauer could see
as she sat alone, dreaming beside her fire. Among the numerous galleries, the one she
oftenest imagined to herself was where her boy, Carl, opened and shut his door.
When evening came, the day workman went up to be replaced by others, but her boy did not go with the rest to take his place in the basket. He went off to the stable, patted his beloved Blair Athol, and gave him his supper of oats and fresh hay. That he ate his own little cold supper, which had been sent to him, played for a few minutes with his big pet rat, caught and stroked the two bats as they fluttered about him, and then,
was soon fast asleep on his heap of straw. Well did the fond mother know all this, and much she loved
to hear every incident of her boy's daily life. Mother, what do you think Mr. Malsmule, the engineer,
said to me yesterday, he said that if I gave correct answers to some questions in arithmetic,
which he would put to me one of these days, he would take me to hold the land chain when he surveys the
mine with his compass. It seems they're going to pierce a new gallery to join the Weber shaft,
and he will find it uncommonly difficult to bring it out in the right place. Really, cried Dame Bower
with delight. Did Mr. Mosmule say that? And already she imagined her coral holding the chain
along the gallery whilst the engineer, notebook in hand, set down figures and his eyes.
fixed on the compass, ordered the direction of the opening.
Unluckily, continued Carl, I have nobody to explain what I don't understand in my arithmetic,
and I'm much afraid I shall not answer correctly.
At this point, Max, who was silently smoking by the fireside, which place, as a lodger in the
house he had the privilege of occupying, joined in the conversation, and said to the boy,
If you like to show me what you find difficult, perhaps I can give you a helping hand.
You, said Dame Bauer, with some incredulity.
Certainly, replied Max, do you think I learn nothing at the evening class to which I go regularly
after supper? The master is very pleased with me and says he will make me a monitor.
This settled. Max brought from his room a clean paper copybook, and sitting himself by the lad,
explained the difficult sum, with so much clearness, that the astonished Carl managed it easily.
From that day, Dame Bauer showed more consideration for her lodger, and Max took a great liking to his little companion.
In the factory, Max showed himself an exemplary workman.
and was not long in being promoted to the second and then to the first class. Every morning he was at the O-gate punctually at seven o'clock. Every evening, after his supper, he repaired to the class taught by the engineer, Trubner, geometry, algebra, drawing of diagrams and machines. He attacked them all with equal order, and his progress was so rapid that his master was much struck by it.
Two months from his entry into the Schultz manufactory, the young workman was already noted as one of the cleverest intellects, not only in the A section, but in all Stolstadt.
A report of his engineer sent up at the end of the quarter bore this formal mention.
Schwartz, Johann, 26, working castor of the first class, I wish to bring this man before the notice of the directors as quite above the
average in three respects, theoretical knowledge, practical skill, and remarkable genius for invention.
But something more than this was required to draw the attention of the chiefs to Max.
It was not long in coming, though unfortunately it was under the most tragical circumstances.
One Sunday morning, Max, much astonished at hearing ten o'clock strike, without his young friend
Carl, having appeared, went down to ask Dame Bauer if she knew any reason for this delay. He found
her very uneasy. Carl ought to have been at home two hours and more. Seeing her anxiety,
Max offered to go and look after him and set off in the direction of the Albrecht shaft.
He met several miners on the way and inquired from them if they had seen the boy. Then, on receiving a
negative reply, exchanging the Glucalf, success to Hugh, safe return, which is the usual salutation
of German Pitman, Max continued his walk. About 11 o'clock he reached the head of the Albrecht shaft.
It was not noisy and animated, as on a weekday. There was only one young milliner, as the miners
jokingly call the sorters of the coal, chatting with the watchmen, whose duty kept him even on
this day at the pit's mouth. Have you seen little Carl Bauer, number 41902, come up this morning?
asked Max of this functionary. The men consulted his list and shook his head. Is there any other
outlet to the mine? No, this is the only one. The new shaft to the north is not yet finished.
Then is the boy below? He must be, though it's an odd thing too, for on Sundays only the five
watchmen should be left.
"'Can I go down to find out? Not without permission. There may have been an accident,'
put in the milliner. Not possible on Sunday. "'All the same,' said Max.
"'I must find out what has become of that boy. You must speak to the overseer of machinery
in his office if he's still there.' The overseer, dressed in his Sunday best, with a shirt-collar
as stiff as if it had been made out of tin, was fortunately still at his accounts.
He was an intelligent and humane man, and at once entered into Max's anxiety.
We will go immediately and see what he is doing.
And ordering the man on duty to be ready to pay away the cable,
he prepared to descend into the mine with the young workmen.
"'Have you not the Galliborat apparatus?' asked Max.
"'It may be useful. You are right.
One can never be sure what has occurred at the bottom of the pit.'
Saying this, the overseer took from a cupboard two zinc reservoirs,
similar to the urns which the street cocoa cellars in Paris carry on their backs.
These were boxes of compressed air, placed in communication with the lips by means of two
India rubber tubes, the horn mouthpiece being held between the teeth.
They are filled with the aid of peculiar bellows, constructed to empty themselves completely.
The nose being held in wooden pinches, a man may, thus supplied with the store of air,
penetrate into the most unbreathable atmosphere.
These preparations completed, the overseer and Max, took their places in the basket,
the cable moved, and the descent began.
Two small electric lamps shed some degree of light around,
and the men conversed together as they were lowered into the depths of the earth.
"'For a man not in the business, you are a cool hand,' remarked the overseer.
"'I've seen people who couldn't summon up courage enough to go down,
"'or if they did, they crouched like rabbits at the bottom of the basket all the time.'
"'Really?' answered Max.
"'It seems nothing to me.
"'Though it's true I have been down a coal mine two or three times before.'
"'They were soon landed at the foot of the shaft.
"'The watchmen, whom they found there, had seen nothing.
of young Carl. They first visited the stable. The horses were there alone, and appeared quite tired of their
own company. At least, such was the conclusion to be drawn from the neigh, with which Blair Atho
greeted the approach of the three human figures. On a nail hung Carl's knapsack, and in a corner,
beside a curry comb, lay his arithmetic book. Max remarked directly that his lantern was not there,
a fresh proof that the boy must still be in the mine.
He may have been hurt by a landslip, said the overseer,
but it is scarcely probable.
What can he have been doing in the galleries on a Sunday?
Oh, perhaps he went to hunt for some insects before going up, said the watchman.
It is quite a passion with him.
The stable boy, who arrived in the midst of this discussion,
confirmed this supposition. He had seen Carl start at seven o'clock with his lantern. A regular search
was immediately commenced. The other watchmen were called, and each one with his lantern,
told off in a different direction, pointed out to him on a large plan of the mine,
that every tunnel and gallery might be thoroughly examined. In two hours the whole mine had been
gone through, and the seven men met again at the foot of the shaft. There had not been the least
appearance of a land slip found anywhere, nor the least trace of Carl. The overseer, perhaps influenced
by an increasing appetite, inclined to the opinion that the boy had passed out unperceived and would
by this time be at his home. But Max, convinced of the contrary, insisted on renewed exertions,
What is that? he asked, pointing to a dotted region on the plan, resembling in the midst of
the adjacent minuteness, those terra incognita marked on the confines of the Arctic continents.
That is the zone provisionally deserted, because of the thinning of the bed, replied the overseer.
Is there a deserted zone? We must look there, exclaimed Max, with a decision to which the other men
submitted. They were not long in reaching the entrance to some galleries, which, to judge by the
slimy and moldy walls, might have been deserted for many years. They had proceeded for some time
without coming upon anything suspicious, when Max stopped and said,
Do you not feel stupefied and attacked with a headache? Why, yes, indeed we do, answered his
companions. So do I, resumed Max. For a moment I felt quite giddy. There is certainly carbonic acid
gas about. Will you allow me to light a match? He asked of the overseer. By all means, my lad,
strike away. Max took his little box from his pocket, struck a match, and stooping held it towards
the ground, upon which it instantly went out. I was sure of it. I was sure of it.
he remarked. The gas, being more heavy than the air, lies close to the ground. You must not stay here. I mean,
those who have not the Gallibor Apparadus, if you like, sir, we can continue the search alone.
This being agreed to, Max and the overseer each took between his teeth the mouthpiece of his airbox,
placed the nippers on his nostrils, and boldly penetrated into a succession of old gallows.
In a quarter of an hour, they came out to renew the air in their reservoirs. This done,
they started again. On the third trial, their efforts were crowned with success. The faint bluish light
of an electric lamp was seen far off in the darkness. They hastened to it. At the foot of the
damp wall, motionless and already cold, lay poor little curl. His blue lips and the
sunken eyes told what had happened. He had evidently wished to pick up something from the ground,
had stooped, and been literally drowned in the carbonic acid gas. Every effort to recall him to life was in vain.
He must have been already dead four or five hours. By the next evening, there was another little
grave in the cemetery of Stolstadt, and poor Dame Bauer was bereaved of her child as well.
well as of her husband.
End of section six.
Chapter 7 of the Begum's Fortune by Jules Verne,
translated by W.H. G. Kingston.
This Lipervox recording is in the public domain.
Chapter 7, the Central Block.
A report from Dr. Ecternoch,
surgeon-in-chief to the section of the Albrecht Pit,
stated that the death of Karl Bauer,
number 4190.302, 13 years of age, Trapper in Gallery 228, was caused by asphyxia,
resulting from the absorption by the respiratory organs of a large proportion of carbonic acid.
Another no less luminous report from the engineer Monsmule explained at the necessity of including
in the ventilating scheme, Zone B in the Plan 14.
as a large amount of deleterious gas filtered slowly from its galleries.
Lastly, a note from the same functionary brought before the notice of the authorities
the devotedness of the overseer rare and of the first-class workman, Johann Schwartz.
Ten hours later, on reaching the porter's lodge, Max, as he took his presence counter,
found this printed order on the nail addressed to him,
Schwartz will present himself at the Director General's office at ten o'clock today, Central Block, Gate, and Road A.
At last, thought Max, this is the first step. The rest will come.
While chatting with his comrades on his Sunday walks round Stolstadt, he had acquired sufficient knowledge of the general organization of the city,
to know that authority to enter the central block was not to be had every day.
All sorts of stories were current about this place.
It was said that some indiscreet people,
who had tried to get into the guarded enclosure by stratagem,
had never been seen again,
that before their admission,
all workmen employed there had to go through a series of Masonic ceremonies,
were obliged to take the most solemn o'er,
not to reveal anything that went on there and were mercilessly sentenced to death by a secret
tribunal if they violated their oath. A subterranean railway put this sanctuary in communication
with the outworks. Night trains brought unknown visitors. Supreme Councils were held there,
and sometimes mysterious personages came to participate in the deliberations.
Without putting on necessary faith in these accounts, Max knew that they were really the popular
expression of a well-known fact, the extreme difficulty which attended admission into the
central division, of all the workmen whom he knew, and he had friends in the iron mines,
as well as in the coal pits, among the refiners, as well as the men employed in the blast furnaces,
among the carpenters as well as the smiths, not one had ever entered the gate.
It was therefore with a feeling of intense curiosity, as well as secret pleasure,
that he presented himself there at the hour named.
It was soon plain that the precautions were of the strictest.
Evidently Max was expected.
Two men dressed in a gray uniform swords at their sides,
and revolvers in their belts were waiting in the porter's lodge. This lodge, like that of a cloistered
convent, had two gates, an outer and an inner one, which was never open at the same time.
The pass examined and signed. Max saw, though without manifesting any surprise, a white handkerchief
brought out, with which the two attendants in uniform carefully bandaged his eyes, then taking him by the arms,
they marched him off without saying a word. After walking two or three thousand steps,
they mounted a staircase. A door was opened and shut, and Max was allowed to take off his bandage.
He found himself in a large plain room, furnished with some chairs, a blackboard, and a long desk,
supplied with every implement necessary for linear drawing. It was lighted by high windows,
filled with ground glass.
Almost immediately, two personages,
who looked as if they belonged to a university,
entered the room.
You are brought before our notice
as having somewhat distinguished yourself,
said one of them.
We are about to examine you
to find out if there is a reason
to admit you into the model division.
Are you prepared to answer our questions?
Max modestly declared himself ready
to be put to the proof.
The two examiners then successively put questions to him in chemistry, geometry, and algebra.
The young workmen satisfied them in every case by the clearness and precision of his answers.
The figures which he traced in chalk on the board were neat, decided, and elegant.
His equations, in the most perfect way, in equal lines like the ranks of a crack regiment.
One of these demonstrations was so remarkable and so new to the judges that they expressed their astonishment and asked where he had been taught.
At Schofhausen, my native town, in the elementary school, you appear a good draftsman.
It was my strong point.
The education given in Switzerland is decidedly very uncommon, remarked one examiner to the other.
We will give you two hours to execute this.
He resumed, handing to the candidate a drawing of a very complicated-looking steam engine.
If you acquit yourself, well, you shall be admitted with the mention, perfectly satisfactory and very superior.
Left alone, Max set eagerly to work.
When his judges re-entered at the expiration of the given time, they were so delighted with his diagram that they added to the prompt.
must mention, we have not another draftsman of equal talent. Our young workmen was then again
seized by the gray attendants, and with the same ceremonial, that is to say, the bandaged eyes,
was led to the office of the Director General. You are offered admission to one of the studios
in the model division, said this personage. Are you ready to submit to the rules and regulations?
I do not know what they are, said Max.
But I presume they are acceptable.
They are these.
First, you are compelled as long as your engagement last to reside in the same division.
You cannot go out, but by special and exceptional order.
Second, you are subjected to military discipline,
and you owe absolute obedience under military penalties to your superiors.
To weigh against this, you are also, like the non-commissioned officer,
of an active army, for you may, by irregular advance, be raised to the highest grades.
Third, you bind yourself by an oath, never to reveal to anyone what you see in the division
to which you have access. Fourth, your correspondence is opened by your chiefs, all you send,
as well as all you receive, and it must be limited to your family.
"'In short, I am in prison,' thought Max.
Then he replied quietly.
"'These roles seem perfectly just, and I am ready to submit to them.
"'Good. Raise your hand, take the oath.
"'You are nominated draftsman to the fourth studio.
"'A lodging will be assigned to you, and for your meals you will find a first-rate canteen here.
"'You have not your property with you?'
"'No, sir, as I was ignorant of what I was wanted.
for I left everything in my room.
They will be brought to you, for you must not again go out of the division.
I did well, thought Max, to write my notes in cipher.
They would only have had to look at them.
Before the close of the day, Max was established in a pretty little room,
in the fourth story of a building overlooking a wide courtyard, and had some ideas about his new
life. He did not fancy that it would be as dismal as at first sight it appeared. His comrades with whom
he made acquaintance at the restaurant were in general quiet and gentle, like all industrious people,
to enliven themselves a little, for there was rather a want of gaiety in their mechanical life. They formed a
band amongst themselves, and performed selections of very tolerable music every evening, a library. A library.
a reading room were valuable resources for the mind, from a scientific point of view, during the rare
hours of leisure. Special courses held by professors were obligatory to all the men employed,
who had besides to undergo frequent examinations and competitions. But fresh air and liberty
were lacking in these narrow confines. It was a regular college, only with extra strictness,
exercised and grown men. The surrounding atmosphere could not but weigh on their spirits, subjected as they
were to an iron discipline. The winter passed away in these employments, to which Max gave himself up,
heart and soul, his application, the perfection of his drawings, his extraordinary progress in every
subject he was taught, noticed by all his tutors and examiners, had made for him,
even in this short time, and amongst all these diligent men, a corresponding celebrity.
By general consent, he was the most clever draftsman, the most ingenious, the most fruitful in resources.
Was there a difficulty? They applied to him. Even the chiefs themselves resorted to his experience,
with the respect which merit extorts even from the most marked jealousy. But if,
On reaching the heart of the model division, the young man calculated that he would be any nearer,
getting at the innermost secrets, he was very much out of his reckoning.
His life at present was enclosed within an iron railing,
300 yards in diameter, surrounding the segment of the central block to which he was attached.
Intellectually, his activity could and should extend to the highest branches,
of metallurgic industry. In practice, it was limited to drawing steam engines. He constructed them of
all dimensions and of all powers for every kind of industry and use, for warships and for printing
presses, but he never left this specialty. The division of labor pushed to its utmost limit,
held him as in a vice. After four months passed in Section A,
knew no more of the entire plan of the works in the Steel City than he did on entering. At the most,
he had merely collected a little general information about the organization of the machinery
of which he formed, notwithstanding his merits, but a very small portion. He knew that the center
of the spider's web, figurative of Stollstock, was the bull tower, a kind of cyclopean structure
overlooking all the neighboring buildings.
He had learned, too, through the legendary stories of the canteen,
that the dwelling of Herr Schultz himself was at the base of this tower
and that the renowned secret room occupied the center.
It was added that this vaulted hall,
protected against any danger of fire, and plated inside,
as a monitor is plated outside, was closed,
by a system of steel doors with spring gun locks, worthy of the most suspicious bank.
The general opinion was that Professor Schultz was working at the completion of a terrible
engine of war, of unprecedented power, and destined to assure universal dominion to Germany.
Max had revolved in his brain many most audacious plans of escalade and disguise,
but had been compelled to acknowledge to himself that nothing of the sort was practicable.
Those lines of somber and massive walls, flooded with light during the night,
and guarded by trusty sentinels, would always oppose an insuperable obstacle to every attempt.
But even if he did overcome it, to some extent, what would he see?
Details, always details, never the whole.
What matter? He had sworn not to yield, and he would not yield. If it took ten years, he would
wait that time, but the hour was coming when that secret would be his own. It must. The happy city
of Frankville was prospering, its beneficent institutions favoring each and all, and giving a new
horizon of hope to a disheartened people. Max had no doubt that it
in the face of such a triumph to the Latin race, Schultz would be no more than ever determined to make
good his threats. Stolstadt and its factories were proof of that. Thus, many weeks passed away.
One day in March, Max had just for the hundredth time repeated his secret vow when one of the
gray attendance informed him that the director-general wished to speak to him.
I have received from Herr Schultz, said this high-functionary.
An order to send him our best draftsman, you are the man, make your arrangements to pass into
the inner circle. You are promoted to the rank of lieutenant.
Thus, at the very moment when he was almost despairing of success, his heroic toil at last
procured him the much-desired entrance. Max was so filled with delight that his joy exhibited itself on his
countenance. I am happy to have such good news to announce to you, continued the director,
and I cannot refrain from urging you to continue in the path you have begun to tread so gallantly.
A brilliant future is before you. Go, sir. So, Max, after his long,
probation, caught the first glimpse of the end which he had sworn to reach.
To stuff all his clothes into his portmanteau, follow the gray men, pass through the last enclosure,
of which the entrance in the A-road might have been still forbidden to him, was the work of a few
minutes. He now stood at the foot of the inaccessible bowl tower, until this moment he had but seen its
lofty head reared among the clouds. The scene which lay before him was indeed an unexpected one,
imagine a man suddenly transported from a noisy, commonplace European workshop into the midst
of a virgin forest in the torrid zone. Such was the surprise which awaited Max in the center of
Stalstock. As a virgin forest gains in beauty from the descriptions of great writers, so,
So was Professor Schultz's Park, more beautiful than the most lovely of pleasure gardens.
Slender palms, tufted bananas, curious cacti, formed the shrubberies.
Creepers wound gracefully round eucalyptus trees, hung in great festoons, or fell in rich clesters.
The most tender plants bloomed in abundance.
Pineapples and guavas ripened beside oranges, hummingbirds and birmingham and birthingbirds and
birds of paradise displayed their brilliant plumage in the open air, for the temperature was as
tropical as the vegetation. Max instinctively looked around and above for glass and hot air pipes
to account for this miracle, seeing nothing but the blue sky, he stopped, bewildered. Then it flashed
upon him that not far from the spot was a coal mine in permanent combustion and
he guessed that Herr Schultz had ingeniously utilized this valuable subterranean heat by means of
metallic pipes to maintain a constant hot-house atmosphere. But this explanation did not prevent the
young Alsatians' eyes from being dazzled and charmed with the green lawns, while his nostrils inhaled with
delight, the delicious sense which filled the air. To a man who had passed six months without
seeing even a blade of grass, it was truly refreshing. A graveled path led him by a gentle slope
to the foot of a handsome flight of marble steps, commanded by a majestic colonnade. Behind rose the huge
and massive square building, which was, as it were, the pedestal of the bowl tower. Beneath the
Peristyle, Max could see seven or eight servants in red livery, and a gorgeous porter in cocked hat,
and bearing a howlbird. And he noticed between the columns rich bronze candelabra.
As he ascended the steps, a slight rumble betrayed that the Underground Railroad lay beneath
his feet. Max gave his name, and was immediately admitted into a hall, a regular museum of sculpture,
not having time to examine anything, he was conducted first through a saloon, adorned with black and gold,
then through one with red and gold ornaments, and he was finally left alone for five minutes in a yellow and gold
saloon. At the end of that time, a footman returned and showed him into a splendid green and gold study.
Herr Schultz in person, smoking a long clay pipe with a tankard of beer at his son.
had the effect in the midst of all this luxury of a spot of mud on a patent-leather boot.
Without rising, without even turning his head, the King of Steel merely said in a cold tone,
Are you the draftsman?
Yes, sir.
I've seen your diagrams.
They're very good.
But do you only understand steam engines?
I have never been examined in anything else.
to you know anything of the science of projectiles.
I have studied it in my spare time, and for my own pleasure.
This reply interested Herr Schultz.
He deigned to turn and look at his employee.
Well, will you undertake to design a cannon with me?
We shall see what you can make of it.
Ah, you will be scarcely able to take the place of that idiot of a sonar
who got killed this morning while handling.
some dynamite. The fool might have blown us all up. It must be acknowledged that this revolting
want of feeling was only what might have been expected from the mouth of Herr Schultz.
End of Section 7. Section 8 of the Begum's Fortune by Jules Verne, translated by W. H. G. Kingston.
This Lipervox recording is in the public domain.
Chapter 8
The Dragon's Den
The reader who has followed the progress of our young Alsatian's fortune
will probably not be much surprised
to find him at the end of a few weeks
firmly established in Herr Schultz's favor.
The two had become inseparable.
They worked together, they ate and walked together,
and together they sat smoking over their
foaming glasses of beer. The ex-professor of Gina had never before met with a co-adjutor so entirely after his own
heart, one who caught his meaning with half a word and who could so rapidly utilize his theoretical ideas.
Max not merely possessed transcendent merit in all branches of the profession. He was besides the most
most charming companion, the most diligent worker, the most modestly fertile inventor.
Herr Schultz was delighted with him. Ten times a day, he said to himself,
What a treasure, what a pearl this fellow is! The truth was that Max had, at the first glance,
seen through the character of his formidable patron and perceiving that blind and insatiable vanity was its leading feature, he regulated his conduct by humoring the egotism which he despised. In a few days the young man had acquired such skill in the fingering necessary for this human keyboard that he could play upon Schultz as easily as
one plays on a piano. His tactics merely consisted in exhibiting his own merits to advantage,
but always in such a way as to leave an opening for his master to show superiority over him.
For instance, when he finished a drawing, he would leave it perfect, with the exception of some
slight fault, as easy to see as to correct, and this the ex-professor immediately.
and exultantly pounced upon. Had he some theoretical idea, he caused it so to open out in the
course of conversation that Herr Schultz might fancy that he himself had originated it.
Sometimes he even went further, boldly saying, I have traced that plan of a vessel with the
detached ram, which you asked for. I, returned Herr Schultz.
who had never dreamt of such a thing.
Why, yes, you don't mean to say you have forgotten.
A detached ram, which will leave a spindle-shaped torpedo in the enemy's side,
to burst after an interval of three minutes.
I had not the least recollection of it.
That comes of having a head like mine.
It is so full of inventive genius that I forget my own ideas.
and Herr Schultz conscientiously pocketed the credit of the new invention.
Perhaps after all he was only half-duped by this artifice.
In his innermost heart he probably felt that Max was stronger than he.
But by one of those mysterious workings, which go on in the human brain,
he was contented with the appearance of superiority as long as he could delude his subordinate.
But the fellow must be an ass, after all, in spite of his cleverness, he would sometimes say to himself,
with a silent laugh, which showed all the 32 dominoes in his jaw. His vanity, if ever wounded,
was soon consoled by the reflection that he alone, in all the world, could carry out these
inventions and ideas. They would have been of no value but for his gold. After all, Max was only
part of the mechanism which he, Schultz, had set going, etc., etc. Yet, although in high favor,
Max was never taken into the professor's confidence, and after five months sojourn in the
Bull Tower, he knew little more than at first of its own.
mysteries. His suspicions had become certainties, and that was all. He was now convinced that
Stalstadt contained a secret, and that Herr Schultz had some aim far beyond that of gain.
The nature of his occupations rendered the supposition that he had invented some perfectly new
engine of warfare, extremely probable. But the enigma had still to be solved,
Max at last came to the conclusion that it would be impossible to obtain the knowledge he sought
without coming to some crisis, and this he resolved to provoke. It was after dinner on the
evening of the 5th of September, exactly a year since he had found the body of his little
friend Carl in the Albrecht pit. Outside, the long, severe American winter, already covered
the country with its white mantle. But in the park of Stolstadt, the temperature was as warm as during June,
and the snow, melting before it touched the ground, fell in rain instead of flakes. Those sausages and
sourcouts were delicious, were they not? remarked Herr Schultz, whose love of his favorite dish
was unaffected by the bakem's millions. Delicious!
returned Max, who had heroically partaken of this mess every evening, till at last he hated
the very sight of it. His feelings on this subject decided him at once to carry his meditated
project into execution. I wonder, resumed Herr Schultz with a sigh,
how people who have neither sausages nor sauerkraut nor bear can endure existence.
Life must be one long misery to them, replied Max.
It would really be a charity to unite all mankind with the fodder land.
Well, well, that will come, that will come, exclaimed the king of steel.
Here we are already installed.
in the heart of America. Just let us take an island or two in the neighborhood of Japan,
and you will see in what a few strides we shall get round the globe. The footman now brought in the
pipes. Herr Schultz filled and lighted his. Max had purposely determined to make use of this
moment of supreme bliss. So began, after a few minutes' silence. I must say that I don't quite
believe in this conquest?
What conquest?
asked Herr Schultz, who had forgotten what was the topic of conversation.
The conquest of the world by the Germans.
The ex-professor thought he had not heard correctly.
You do not believe in the conquest of the world by the Germans.
No.
Oh, indeed.
That is something strange.
I am curious to know the reasons for your doubt.
Simply because the French artillerymen will end by doing better and will far surpass you.
The Swiss, my fellow countrymen, who know them well, are firmly convinced that a forewarned
Frenchman is worth two Germans.
The lesson of 1870 will be repeated against those who gave it.
No one doubts this in my little country, sir, and if I may venture to say so,
it is the opinion of the cleverest men in England.
Max had uttered these words in a cool, dry, and decisive tone,
which, if it were possible, doubled the effect of the point-blank blasphemy.
Herr Schultz glared wildly, his astonishment almost choked him,
then the blood rushed to his face with such violence
that the young man feared for a moment he had gone too,
far. However, seeing that rage had not stifled his victim and that he would not die of the shock
this time, he resumed. Yes, it is annoying to think of, but it's the fact. Although our rivals
make no noise about it, yet they are working, do you think they have learned nothing since the war?
Whilst we are stupidly trying to increase the weight of our cannon, you may be certain that they are
preparing something new, and that we shall see what it is on the very first opportunity.
Something new, something new, stammered Herr Schultz. We are doing that, too, sir.
Ah, yes, in a way. We are making and steal what our predecessors made in bronze. That's all.
We double the proportions and the range of our pieces. Double! exclaimed Herr Schultz in a
tone which signified, indeed, we do better than double.
In short, resumed Max, we are mere plagiarous. See here, the truth is we lack any genius
for inventing. We discover nothing, and the French do, and will, you may be sure.
Herr Schultz had become outwardly, at least, rather calmer, though his trembling lips and the paleness
which had succeeded the apoplectic crimson betrayed the agitated state of his mind,
must he endure such a pitch of humiliation?
To be the far-famed Schultz, the absolute master of the greatest manufacturing and cannon
boundary in the whole world.
To have kings and parliaments at his feet, and then to be told by an insignificant Swiss draftsman
that he lacked invention, that he was below a French gunner?
And all this when he had close to him on the other side of a plated wall,
something which would a thousand times confound the impudent rascal,
shut him up completely, and sweep away all his idiotic arguments?
No, it was not to be endured.
Herr Schultz rose so abruptly that he broke his pipe. Then, casting at Max, a glance full of irony,
he hissed out from between his set teeth. Follow me, sir, for I'm about to show you whether I,
Herr Schultz, have any lack of invention. Max had played high, but it won. Thanks to the
surprise his bold and unexpected language had produced and the passion he had aroused. Vanity being
stronger than prudence with the ex-professor, Schultz was now eager to lay open his secret.
He led the way with a hurried step into his study, closed the door carefully, and walking straight
up to the bookcase, touched a panel. Immediately an opening concealed by the rose of
of books appeared in the wall. This was the entrance to a narrow passage leading by a stone staircase
to the very foot of the bull tower. There an oaken door was opened by means of a little key,
which never left the possession of the master of the place. A second door appeared, fastened with
the padlock, similar to those used for strong boxes. Herscholtz threw open the heavy iron barrier,
protected within by a complicated apparatus of explosive machinery, which Max, actuated by professional
curiosity, would have much liked to examine, but his guide left him no time to do so.
The two men then found themselves before a third door, without any apparent lock or bolt.
which yielded to a slight push, given, however, in a particular way.
This third barrier passed, Herr Schultz and his companion,
climbed an iron staircase of 200 steps,
and arrived at the summit of the Bull Tower,
overlooking all the city of Stolstadt.
In the center of a sort of casement, pierced with numerous embrasures,
stood a steel cannon.
There!
exclaimed the professor, who had not uttered a word since they left the dining room.
It was the most enormous piece of ordinance Max had ever beheld, a breech-loader of at least
three hundred tons, its mouth measured nearly five feet in diameter, mounted on a steel
carriage, and running on rails of the same metal, it might have been maneuvered
by a child, so easy were all its movements made, by a system of cogged wheels. A spring,
fixed at the back of the carriage, had the effect of annulling the recoil, or at least producing a
perfectly equal reaction, so that after each shot, the gun returned to its first position.
And what may be the perforating power of this piece? asked Max, who could not restrain
his admiration. At 20,000 yards, we can pierce a 40-inch plate as easily as if it were a slice of
bread and butter. And its range? It's range, cried Schultz enthusiastically.
Ha-ha, you said just now that our imitative genius had done nothing more than double the range
of former guns? Well, with this fellow, I...
would undertake to send, with tolerable precision, a projectile to the distance of 30 miles.
Thirty miles, cried Max, 30 miles. What new powder can you use?
Oh, I can tell you everything now, replied Herr Schultz in a peculiar tone. There is no
inconvenience in revealing my secrets to you. Large-grained powder has served its
time. Gun-cutton is what I use. Its expensive power is four times that of ordinary power,
and I increase it five-fold by mixing with it eight-tenths of its weight of nitrate of potash.
But, observed Max, no peace, though made of the best steel, could stand that long.
After four or five shots, your cannon will be impaired and soon become useless.
If it were only to fire one shot, that one would be sufficient.
It would be an expensive one.
It would cost a million, for that is the net cost of the gun.
One shot worth a million.
What matter?
So that it destroyed a thousand millions.
A thousand millions, cried Max.
However, he restrained the mingled horror and admiration with which,
this fearful agent of destruction inspired him and added. It is assuredly a wonderful and astonishing
piece of artillery, but notwithstanding its merits, it bears out my theory. There are improvements,
certainly, but it is all imitation, no invention. No invention, responded Herr Schultz,
shrugging his shoulders. I repeat that I have now no secrets from you.
come with me. The king of steel and his companion then left the casement and descended to a lower
story by means of a hydraulic lift. Here lay a large number of long objects, cylindrical in shape,
which might from a distance have been taken for dismounted cannon. There are our shells,
said Herr Schultz. This time Max was obliged to acknowledge that they resembled
nothing he had ever seen before. They were enormous tubes, six feet in length and three in diameter,
sheathed in lead in such a way as to fit into the rifling of the gun, closed behind by a steel plate,
and the point finished off by a steel tip supplied with a percussion button. Nothing in their appearance
indicated the special nature of these shells, though Max felt that in them was contained some
terrible element of destruction, surpassing all that had ever before been made or thought of.
Can you not guess? asked Herr Schultz, seeing that his companion remained silent.
Indeed, no, sir. Why would you want a shell so long and so heavy? In appearance, at least,
The appearance is deceitful, answered Herr Schultz, and there is no great difference in
their weight to that of an ordinary shell of the same caliber. Come, I must tell you everything.
A fuzy shell of glass, encased an oak, charged with liquid carbonic acid by 70 atmospheres
of interior pressure. The fall provokes the explosion of the case and the return of the liquid
to a gaseous state.
An enormous volume of carbonic acid gas rushes into the air,
and a cold of 100 degrees below zero seizes upon the surrounding atmosphere.
Every living thing within a radius of 30 yards from the center of the explosion is at once
frozen and suffocated.
I say 30 yards as the lowest calculation, but the action would really extend much
farther, say, to a hundred, or a couple of hundred yards.
Another capital thing about it is that the carbonic acid gas, remaining a very long time
near the ground by reason of its weight, being greater than that of air, will preserve the
dangerous properties of the zone for many hours after the first explosion, so that any creature
which may attempt to enter or pass through it must infallibly.
perish. The effect of that shot will be both instantaneous and lasting. Besides, with my plan,
there will be no wounded, only dead. Herr Schultz displayed manifest pleasure in exhibiting the merits
of his invention. His good humor had returned. He was flushed with pride, and his teeth gleamed.
to imagine, he resumed. A sufficient number of my pieces of ordinance directed against a besieged town,
supposing one sufficient for the destruction of a place of two acres and a half an extent,
then for a town of 2,500 acres, we must have a hundred batteries, each consisting of 10 suitable guns.
Now, let us suppose all our guns in position, the weather calm and, and, and, you know,
favorable, the general signal given by an electric wire. In a minute, there would not be a single
living bean remaining in an extent of 2,500 acres. The town would be submerged in a regular ocean
of carbonic acid gas. The idea occurred to me last year on reading the medical report of the
accidental death of a little miner in the Ulbricht pit.
I had the first inspiration at Naples when I visited the dog grotto.
But that last fact was needed to put the finishing stroke to my thought.
You comprehend the principle, do you not?
An artificial ocean of pure carbonic acid.
Now, the proportion of a fifth of this gas would be sufficient to render the air unbreathable.
Max did not utter a word.
he was regularly struck dumb.
Herr Schultz felt his triumph so keenly that he did not wish to take advantage of it.
There is only one detail which troubles me, said he.
And what can that be? asked Max, that I have not succeeded in suppressing the sound of the explosion.
It makes my gun too much like a common cannon.
Just think of what it would be if I could manage.
to have a silent shot.
Sudden death comes noiselessly
upon a hundred thousand men at once
on some calm and serene night.
The enchanting prospect thus called up
threw Herr Schultz into a brown study.
From this reverie,
which was but a deep immersion
in a bath of self-love,
he was aroused by Max,
observing,
Very good, sir, very good,
But a thousand guns of this description mean time and money.
Money?
We are overflowing with it.
Time.
Time is ours.
And indeed, this German, the last of his school, believed what he said.
Well, replied Max, your shell, loaded with carbonic acid, is not perfectly new after all,
for it is derived from those suffocating projectiles, which have been known for many years.
But that it may be eminently destructive, I do not deny. Only, only.
It is light for its size, and if it is ever projected 30 miles,
it is only made to go six, answered Harris Schultz, smiling.
But he added, pointing to another shell.
Here is one of steel.
This fellow is full, and contains a hundred little guns,
symmetrically arranged, fitted one into the other,
like the parts of a telescope.
Having been fired as projectiles,
they will become cannon to vomit forth and their turn little shells loaded with incendiary matter.
It will be a whole battery hurled through space to carry flame and death into a town
by covering it with a shower of inextinguishable fire.
This has a requisite weight to go the 30 miles of which I spoke.
In a short time, a trial of it will be made in such a way that unbelievers may go if they like
and handle the hundred thousand corpses which it will have stretched on the ground.
Here the dominoes gleamed so intolerably in Herr Schultz's mouth that Max felt a strong desire
to smash in a dozen or so of them, but contained himself. He had not yet heard all.
Herr Schultz resumed. I have said that a decisive experiment is shortly to be made.
How? Where? cried Max. How? With one of these shells, which thrown by my gun from the platform
will cross the Cascade Mountains. Where? There exists a city, separated from
us by at most 30 miles, upon whose inhabitants it will come like a thunder clap, for even if they
expected it, they could not ward it off or escape the startling effects. This is now the 5th of
September. Well, on the 13th, at a quarter before midnight, Frankville will disappear from
off American soil. The burning of Sodom will be rivaled, Professor.
Sir Schultz, in his turn, will let loose the fires of heaven.
At this unexpected declaration, Max felt the blood curdle in his veins.
Fortunately, Herr Schultz did not perceive his agitation.
Now, you see, he continued in an easy tone.
We act just contrary to the founders of Frankville.
We search for the secret of abridging the lives of men.
whilst they seek to lengthen them.
However, everything has an object in nature,
and Dr. Saracen, by founding that isolated city,
has, without suspecting it,
placed a most magnificent field of experiments within my reach.
Max could scarcely believe his ears.
But, said he, and the involuntary tremor in his voice,
attracted for a moment the attention of the King of Steel. The inhabitants of Frankville have done nothing to you, sir.
You have not, so far as I know, any reason for picking a quarrel with them.
My dear fellow, replied Herr Schultz, in your brain, though well-organized in other respects,
there is a fund of Celtic ideas, which would do you much injury were you to live
long enough. Right, good, evil are purely relative and quite conventional words. Nothing is positive
but the grand laws of nature. The law of competition has the same claim as that of gravitation.
It is folly to resist, while to submit and follow in the way it points out is only wise and reasonable,
and therefore I mean to destroy Dr. Saracen's city.
Thanks to my canon, my 50,000 Germans will easily make an end of the hundred thousand dreamers over there,
who now constitute a group condemned to perish.
Seeing that an attempt to argue with Herr Schultz would be useless, Max did not try to soften him.
The two then left the shell chamber, closed the secret doors, and returned to the dining room.
In the coolest, most natural way, the professor again lifted his tankard to his lips,
touched a bell, called for a pipe in the place of the one he had broken,
and then addressing the footman,
"'Are Arminius and Sigmar there?' he asked.
"'Yes, sir?'
"'Tell them to remain with incal.'
When the servant had left the room, the King of Steel turned to Max and looked him full in the face.
The latter's eyes did not quail before that look of almost metallic hardness.
You mean really, said he, to put your project into execution.
Really? I know the situation and the latitude and longitude of Frankville to the tenth of a second,
and on the 13th of September at a quarter before midnight. It will cease to be.
Perhaps you ought to have kept this plan in absolute secret. My dear,
fellow, answered Herr Schultz. Decidedly, your mind never would become logical. This makes me regret
the less that you must die young. At these words, Max started up. Is it possible you do not understand?
Added Herr Schultz coldly, that I never speak of my plans, but before those who cannot repeat them,
The bell rang. Arminius and Sigmar, two giants, appeared at the door.
You wish to know my secret, said Herr Schultz.
You do know it. Nothing remains for you now, but to die.
Max did not reply. You are too intelligent, resumed Herr Schultz,
to suppose that I can let you live, now that you know all about my plans, that would be an act of
unpardonable carelessness. That would be illogical. The greatness of my aim forbids me to compromise
its success for the consideration of a relative value so trifling as the life of a man,
even of such a man as you, my dear fellow, whose good cerebral organization I most particularly
esteem. Now, I truly regret that a little movement of self-love should have carried me away
and placed me under the necessity of suppressing you.
But you must understand that in the face of the interest to which I have devoted myself,
there can be no question of sentiment.
I may as well tell you now that it was for having penetrated my secret
that your predecessor met his death, and not by an explosion of dynamite.
The rule is strict.
It must be inflexible.
I can alter nothing.
Max looked at Herschel.
He understood by the sound of his voice, by the unrelenting obstinacy of that bold head, that he was lost.
He did not give himself the trouble of uttering a word of protest.
When and by what death shall I die?
He merely asked.
Don't be uneasy about that, replied Herr Schultz composedly.
You will die, but suffering will be spared you.
You will not wake up some morning.
That is all. At a sign from the King of Steel, Max found himself led away and shut into his room,
the door of which was guarded by the two giants. But when he found himself alone, he thought with a
shudder of agony and rage, of the doctor, his relations, compatriots, all those whom he loved.
The death which awaits me is nothing, he said to himself,
But how am I to avert the danger which threatens them?
End of Section 8
Section 9 of the Begum's Fortune by Jules Verne,
translated by W.H. G. Kingston.
This Liprovok's recording is in the public domain.
Chapter 9. PPC
The situation was indeed serious.
What could poor Max do, whose hours were always
already numbered, and whose last night might have come with the setting sun. He did not sleep for an
instant, not from the dread of never awakening, as Herr Schultz had said, but because his heart was
too full of thoughts of Frankville and of the impending catastrophe. What shall I attempt? He thought to
himself. To destroy that gun? Blow up the tower it stands on. How could I manage it?
"' Escape? Escape? When my room is guarded by a couple of giants? And then, suppose I could get away from Stolstadt, before the 13th of September. How could I help them? To be sure, if not our beloved city, I might at least save the inhabitants. I might fly to them shouting,
escape, escape without delay. You are in danger of perishing by fire and steel. Fly, all of you,
for your lives. Then Max's thoughts passed into another channel. That villain Schultz, he thought,
even admitting that he has exaggerated the destructive effects of his shell and that he cannot
really fire the whole town. It is very certain that with a single shot he can burn a considerable part.
It's a frightful machine he has invented, and notwithstanding the distance between the two towns,
it will easily send the projectile over it. The speed, too, must be twenty times superior to any hither to obtain,
something like ten thousand yards, or nine miles a second. It's actually a third of the speed of the
earth in its orbit. Is it possible? Oh, if only that horrible gun would blow up at the first shot.
but there is no hope of that. The medal of which it is made will stand anything. How exactly the
wretch knows the position of Frankville? Without going out of his den, he can point his canon with mathematical
precision, and as he said, the shell will undoubtedly fall in the very heart of the city.
How can the unhappy inhabitants be warned? Max had not closed an eyelid when day dawned. He then rose
from the bed, on which he had tossed in feverish restlessness.
Come, he said to himself, it will be for another night.
As his executioner means to spare me suffering, he no doubt will wait till sleep.
Getting the better of my anxiety has overpowered me.
And then, what sort of death can he have in store for me?
Does he think of killing me with some decoction of prussic acid whilst I sleep?
Will he introduce some of that?
carbonic acid gas, which he has at his command, into my room? Will he not rather use it in a
liquid form, such as he has in his glass shells, when it sudden return to a gaseous state produces
a hundred degrees of frost? And the next day, instead of me, instead of this strong, well-constituted
body, so full of life, there will be nothing but a dried, frozen, shriveled mummy. Oh, the savage!
Well, well, if it must be so, let my heart be frozen in my life,
whither away in that unbearable atmosphere.
If only my friends, Dr. Saracen, his family, Jeanette, my little Jeanette, may be saved.
But to effect that, I must escape.
Well, escape I will.
As he uttered these words, Max, though he believed himself, locked into his room,
room, instinctively laid his hand on the handle of the door. To his great surprise, it opened,
and he went down as usual and out into the garden where he was accustomed to walk. Ah, he thought,
I'm a prisoner in the central block, though not in my room. That's something in my favor. However,
no sooner was Max outside than he saw that, though apparently free,
He, in reality, could not make a step without being escorted by the two personages who answered
to the historic, or rather prehistoric, names of Arminius and Sigmar.
He had often wondered when he met them about the place what could be the duty of those two
huge men in gray cloaks, with their bull necks, herculean muscles, dark red faces,
bristling with thick moustaches and bushy whiskers.
He now knew what that duty was.
They were the executioners of Herr Schultz's darkest deeds,
who, for the present, were acting as his bodyguard.
These two giants never let him out of their sight,
lying at the door of his room and dogging his steps when he walked in the park.
The formidable array of revolvers and daggers were turned.
each carried in his belt, rendered hopeless any attempt to escape from them. With all this,
they were dumb as fish. Max tried in a diplomatic way to get up a conversation with them,
but only received a ferocious glare in reply. Even the offer of a glass of beer, which he had
some reason to suppose irresistible, was made in vain. After observing them for 15 hours,
He discovered that they had one weakness, only one, a pipe, which they took the liberty of smoking,
close at his heels. This single weakness Max determined to turn to account. How he did not know,
he could not even imagine, but he had vowed to escape, and nothing should be neglected that could
in any way assist him. Time was pressing. What was to be done?
At the least sign of rebellion or flight, Max was sure of receiving a couple of bullets in his head.
Even supposing they missed, he was still in the center of a triple fortified line, guarded by a triple row of sentinels.
According to his custom, the former pupil of the central school correctly put the situation in the form of a mathematical problem.
Given a man guarded by two unscrupulous ruffians, individually stronger than he, and armed to the teeth,
the man must first escape the vigilance of these warders, this done, he must get out of a fortified place,
all the entrances to which are strictly watched.
Max pondered this double question a hundred times, but always came to the conclusion,
which is impossible.
However, the gravity of his situation seemed to sharpen all his faculties of invention.
Whether Chance alone gave the finishing touch or not, would be difficult to say.
It happened that the next day, as Max was walking in the park, his eyes fell on a shrub,
the appearance of which instantly attracted him.
It was a dull-looking herbaceous plant.
Its leaves alternately oval, pointed, and double, with great red, bell-shaped, monopetallus flowers, hanging by auxiliary stocks.
Max had merely studied botany as an amateur, but it immediately occurred to him that this shrub had the characteristics of one of the order solanacea.
Quite at a venture, he gathered a leaf and slightly chewed it as he pursued it as he pursued.
his walk. He was not mistaken, a feeling of heaviness in his limbs, accompanied by a sensation of nausea,
soon convinced him that he had close at hand a natural laboratory of Belladonna, that is to say,
the most active of all narcotics. He strolled on until he reached a small artificial lake,
which stretched away to the southern end of the park, and supplied a cascade.
which, by the by, was evidently copied from that in the Boyd-Belown.
Where does the water of that cascade go to, thought Max?
It first flowed into the bed of a little river,
which, after describing various turns and bends,
finally disappeared at the limits of the park.
There was evidently an outlet,
and to all appearance the river escaped
by filling one of the subterranean channels
which watered the plain beyond stalstatt.
In this, Max saw a gate of egress.
It was certainly not a carriageway, but it was an opening.
And suppose the channel is barred by an iron grating,
objected the voice of prudence.
Nothing ventured, nothing have.
Files weren't made to gnaw away corks,
and there are capital files in the laboratory,
so answered another ironical voice, one that prompted daring resolves.
In two minutes Max's determination was made, an idea, as it may be called, had darted into his
mind, one that perhaps could not, after all, be carried out, but which he would attempt if death
did not first overtake him. He sauntered back towards the shrub with red flowers, and gathered two or three
leaves in such a way that his guards could not fail to see him. Then, returning to his room,
he quite openly dried these leaves before the fire, rubbed them in his hands to crush them,
and mixed them with his tobacco. During the six following days, Max, to his extreme surprise,
woke up quite well every morning, had Herr Schultz, whom he had not again seen and never met in his walks,
had he given up his plan of making away with him?
No, it was not likely, any more than he would relinquish that of destroying Dr. Saracen's city.
Max made use of this permission to live, and every day renewed his maneuver.
He took care, of course, never to smoke the belladonna himself,
and therefore he kept two packets of tobacco, one for his personal use, the other for daily show.
His object was simply to arouse the curiosity of Arminius and Sigmar.
Confirmed smokers, such as these two ruffians, were sure soon to notice the shrub,
from which he took the leaves, imitate the operation, and try how they light the mixture.
This supposition was correct, and the result proved equal to his anticipations.
On the sixth day, the eve of the fatal 13th of September,
Max, as he glanced carelessly behind him, had the satisfaction of seeing his guards
collect a little store of the green leaves. An hour later, he observed that they were drying
them at the fire, rubbing them in their great horny hands and mixing them with their tobacco.
They seemed already licking their lips in anticipation. Was it Max's intention merely to stupefy
Arminius and Sigmar? No, that was not sufficient. Eluding their vigilance, he had still to pass down
that stream, even if it should prove to be miles in length. But he had arranged his plan. It was true
there were nine chances in ten that he would perish, but as he was already condemned to death,
that did not much matter. Evening came, with it the supper hour, afterwards a walk. The incestive
separable trio took the way into the park. Without hesitating, without losing a minute,
Max proceeded straight towards a building, standing alone, and which was no other than the workshop,
where all the models were made. He sat down on a bench outside, filled his pipe, and began to smoke.
Arminius and Sigmar, who had their pipes already, sat down on a neighboring seat, and soon were puffing away.
The effects of the narcotic were not long in becoming visible.
Before five minutes had passed, the two clumsy giants were yawning and stretching like bears in a cage.
Their eyes grew dim, a dull sound was in their ears, their complexions changed from red to purple,
their arms fell useless at their sides, their heads dropped on their breasts.
The pipes slipped to the ground.
Then followed loud snoring, mingled with the twittering of the birds,
who lived all the year round in the perpetual summer of the Stolstadt Park.
Now was Max's time.
His impatience may be imagined when it is remembered that in the next night,
at a quarter before midnight, Frankville, having been sentenced by Herr Schultz, would cease to exist.
He darted into the workshop.
It was a large building, a perfect museum.
of models. Hydraulic machines, locomotives, steam engines, portable engines, suction pumps,
boring machines, ships, ship machinery. In fact, the masterpieces would be too numerous to mention.
It was a collection of models in wood of everything made in the Schultz manufacturer since its foundation,
and you may be sure that many cannon, torpedoes, and shells were amongst them. The night was dark
and favorable to the young Alsatian's daring project.
Besides accomplishing his escape,
he hoped to destroy the Stolstadt Model Museum,
how he longed to annihilate that huge bull tower
with its destructive cannon in all it contained.
But it was useless to think of that.
Max's first care was to seize a little steel saw,
fit for filing iron which was hanging from a tool rack,
and slip it into his pocket.
Then, taking a match from his box, he struck it, set fire to a heap of drawings and slight fir-wood models, and rushed out.
The fire, spreading among all these inflammable materials, increased with great rapidity, and flames speedily burst forth from every part of the building.
The alarm bell rang, the electric wire carried the news to every quarter of Stolstadt, peels sounded, and fire.
and firemen and engines hastened from all directions.
At the same moment, Herr Schultz,
whose presence was well calculated to encourage the workers,
made his appearance.
In a few minutes the boilers were under pressure
and the powerful pumps at work,
but in spite of the delusions of water
which fell on the walls and roofs,
the fire gained force,
and it was soon evident that all hope of mastering it must be given up.
It was a grand and terrible spectacle. Crouched in a corner, Max never lost sight of Herr Schultz,
who cheered on his men as if assaulting a town. There was no necessity for giving a further helping hand
to the fire. The museum, standing as it did, alone in the park, would soon be entirely consumed.
Herr Schultz, seeing that the building itself could not possibly be saved, suddenly shouted out,
$10,000 to whoever will save model number 3175 from the glass case in the center.
This was the very mold of Schultz's famous canon, and he valued it, above all other things in the museum.
To reach it, however, a person would be compelled to make his way through a deluge of sparks and falling wood
and an unbreathable atmosphere of dense black smoke.
It was ten to one that he would escape with his life.
Notwithstanding, therefore, the magnificence of Herr Schultz's offer,
no one answered to his appeal.
At last a man presented himself.
It was Max.
I will go, said he.
You! exclaimed Herr Schultz.
Yes, I.
It won't save you from the sentence of
death pronounced against you, so don't imagine it. I do not propose to avoid that, but to snatch
your precious model from destruction. Go then, answered Herr Schultz, and I swear that if you succeed,
the ten thousand dollars shall be faithfully made over to your heirs. I will depend on you for that,
returned Max. Several of the Gallibrate apparatus were brought to him. They were always at hand in
case of fire as they enabled men to venture into the densest smoke. Max had already made use of one
when he tried to save from death Dame Bauer's boy, poor little Carl. One of these was soon filled with
air and placed on his back. He put the pinches on his nose, took the tube in his mouth, and darted
into the smoke. At last, said he, this air will last for a quarter of an hour. Having grant that may be
time enough. As may be imagined, Max had not the slightest intention of endeavoring to save Schultz's
cannon model. His life every moment in dire peril, he made his way across the smoke-filled hall
amidst a shower of blazing brands and charred beams. Mercifully none of them touched him,
and just as the roof fell in with a fearful crash, Max escaped at the opposite side of the building,
to fly towards the stream, run along its banks till he reached the unknown opening and plunge in
was the work of only a few seconds. The rapid current swept him along in a depth of seven or eight feet.
He had no need to guide himself, for the water bore him astrate as if he had held Ariadne's clue.
He soon found that he had entered a narrow channel, a sort of pipe quite filled by the overflow of the river.
What can be the length of this tunnel?
thought Max.
Everything depends on that.
If I do not pass through it in a quarter of an hour,
the air will fail, and I am lost.
He maintained his coolness and presence of mind.
Ten minutes passed,
when suddenly he was driven up against some obstacle.
This was an iron grating on hinges,
barring the way down the tunnel.
This is what I feared, thought Max,
simply. Without losing a moment, he took the saw from his pocket and set to work on the bolt of the
staple. Five minutes' labor did not loosen it. The grading remained obstinately closed.
Already Max breathed with difficulty. They came a buzzing in his ears. The blood mounted in his head.
He felt he would soon lose consciousness. He endeavored, however, to make the most of the small
quantity of air remaining by taking breath as seldom as possible. Though half-sawed through,
the bolt would not yield. At that moment, the saw slipped from his hands. Surely God himself
cannot be against me, was his thought. And grasping the grating with both hands, he shook it with
the despairing energy given by the instinct of self-preservation. The grating opened. The bolt
had given way, and the current carried onwards the daring Alsatian nearly suffocated, yet still
feebly struggling as he inhaled the last particles of air in the reservoir.
The next day, when Herr Schultz's men ventured into the ruins left by the fire,
they searched in vain among all the debris and still smouldering cinders for any trace of human
remains. It was evident that the brave workman had perished. His daring act astonished none of his
friends, who had known him in the different workshops. The precious model was not saved, but the man who
was acquainted with the secrets of the steel king was dead. Heaven is witness that I wish to
spare him all suffering, said Herr Schultz to himself, in his usual serene fashion. At any rate,
as I know not his heirs, I am saved $10,000.
Such was the only funeral oration pronounced by the philosophical professor
over the supposed grave of our young Alsatian.
End of Section 9.
Section 10 of the Begham's Fortune by Jules Verne,
translated by W. H. G. Kingston.
This Lipervox recording is in the public domain.
Chapter 10. An article from Unser-Century, a German review. A month before the period at which the
events we have just related occurred, a review in a salmon-covered wrapper, entitled Our Century,
published the following article on the subject of Frankville. An article which was particularly
relished by the fastidious people of the German Empire, perhaps
because it only studied that city from a purely material point of view.
We have already given our readers an account of the extraordinary phenomenon
which has been produced on the western coast of the United States,
the Great American Republic, owing to the large proportion of emigrants
included in its population, has for long accustomed the world to a succession of surprises,
but the last, and certainly the most singular, is that of a city named
Frankville, though the very idea of it did not exist five years ago, it is now flourishing,
and in the highest degree of prosperity. This marvelous city has risen as if by enchantment
on the balmy shores of the Pacific. We will not inquire whether it is true, as we are assured,
that the first plan and idea of this enterprise is due to a Frenchman, Dr. Saracen. The thing is
possible, as this doctor may boast a distant relationship with our illustrious King of Steel.
We may also say in passing it is rumored that a considerable inheritance, which should
properly have come to Herr Schultz, has had something to do with the founding of Frankville.
Wherever any good springs up in the world, we may be certain that it is from German seed.
This is a truth we are proud of stating whenever an opportunity offers. But however that may be,
we now wish to give our readers some precise and authentic details on the subject of the spontaneous
vegetation of a model city. It is useless to look for its name on the map, even the Great Atlas
in 378 folio volumes by our eminent Tuktigman, in which every thing,
The kitting clump of trees in the old and new world are put in with such exactitude,
even this noble monument to geographical science, designed for the use of sharp shooters,
does not bear the least trace of Frankville.
The place where the city now stands was five years ago a complete desert.
The exact spot lies 43 degrees, 11 minutes, three seconds north latitude,
and 124 degrees 41 minutes 17 seconds west multitude.
It will be seen that this is on the shores of the Pacific Ocean
and at the foot of the secondary chain of the Rocky Mountains,
called the Cascade Mountains, 60 miles to the north of White Cape,
Oregon State, North America.
This most advantageous site has been carefully sought
and chosen from among a number of others.
The prominent reasons for its adoption are the temperate climate of the northern hemisphere,
which has always been at the head of terrestrial civilization, its position in the middle of a
federative republic, and in a still new state which has allowed it to secure its independence
and rights similar to those possessed by the Principality of Monaco in Europe,
on the condition that after a certain number of years it would enter the Union.
its situation on the ocean, which is becoming more and more the great highway of the globe,
the varied, fertile, and salubrious nature of the soil, the proximity of a chain of mountains,
sheltering it from the north, south, and east winds, leaving to the fresh Pacific breeze,
the care of renovating the atmosphere of the city, the possession of a little river,
whose fresh, sweet, clear water oxygenated by repeated falls, and by the repeat,
of its course, arrives perfectly pure at the sea. Lastly, a natural port, formed by a long
curved promontory, which may easily be enlarged by moles. A few secondary advantages may be mentioned,
such as the proximity of fine marble and stone quarries, bearings of caolin, and even traces
of oropharis ore. In fact, this last detail was almost the cause of the site being given up,
the founders of the town feared that the gold fever might come in the way of their plans.
Fortunately, however, the nuggets were found to be small and not numerous.
The choice of a territory, although determined upon after serious and close study,
took but a few days and was not made the subject of a special expedition.
Science is now so far advanced that without leaving his study,
a man may gather exact and particular information about the most distant regions.
This point decided, two commissioners of the Organization Committee took the first boat from
Liverpool, arrived in 11 days at New York, in seven more at San Francisco, where they chartered a steamer
which in 10 hours landed them on the proposed site. To come to terms with the Legislature of Oregon,
to obtain a grant of 12 miles of land on the shores of the sea on the crest of the Cascade Mountains,
to indemnify with a few millions of dollars that have dozen planters who had some real or supposed rights on the ground,
all this business did not take more than a month.
By January 1872, the territory was already surveyed, measured, laid out,
and an army of 20,000 Chinese coolies under the direction of 500 overseers, and European engineers were hard at work.
Placards posted up all over the state of California, an advertisement van permanently attached to the rapid train,
which starts every morning from San Francisco to traverse the American continent,
and a daily article in the 23 newspapers of that town, were sufficient to ensure the recruiting of the laborer.
It was not even found necessary to resort to the expedient of publishing on a grand scale,
by means of gigantic letters sculptured on the peaks of the Rocky Mountains, that men were wanted.
It must be said that the influx of Chinese coales into Western America
had just at this time caused much perturbation in the labor market.
Several states had, in the interest of their own population,
actually expelled these unfortunate people en masse.
The building of Frankville came just in time to save them from perishing.
Their wages, fixed at a dollar a day, were not to be paid to them until the works were finished,
and their rations were distributed by the municipal administration.
Thus, all the disorder and shameful speculations, which so often attend any great displacement of population, were avoided.
The wages were deposited every week in the presence of delegates in the Great Bank of San Francisco,
and every coolly was warned that when he drew it out, he was not to return.
This precaution was absolutely necessary to get rid of a yellow population,
which would otherwise have infallibly lowered the tone and standard of the new city.
The founders, having besides reserved the right of granting or refusing permission to live there,
The application of this measure was comparatively easy.
The first great enterprise was the establishment of a branch railway,
connecting the territory of the new town with the trunk of the Pacific Railroad,
and running to Sacramento.
These works and those of the harbor were pushed on with extraordinary activity.
In April, the first train, direct from New York,
brought to the Frankfurt Terminus, the members of the committee,
who, until this time, had remained in Europe. In this interval, the general plan of the town,
the details of habitations and public monuments had been stopped. This was not from want of materials.
From the very first American industry has hastened to load the keys of Frankville with every
imaginable requisite for building. It was merely the difficulty of choice. The founders at last decided
that the free stone should be reserved for national edifices and general ornamentation,
and that all houses should be built of brick, not it must be understood, of commonly roughly
molded half-baked bricks, but light well-shaped ones, regular in size, weight, and density,
and pierced from end to end, with a series of cylindrical and parallel holes. These bricks
when placed together, allowed the air to circulate freely throughout the walls of the building.
This arrangement had at the same time the valuable effect of deadening sounds and giving complete
independence to each apartment. The committee did not wish to impose a model on the builders.
They were averse to a weary simon and sipid uniformity, and merely gave a certain number of
fixed rules to which the architects were bound to adhere. First,
Each house to stand alone in a plot of ground planted with trees, grass, and flowers,
and to be inhabited by a single family.
Second, no house to be more than two stories high.
Air and a light must not be monopolized by some to the detriment of others.
Third, every house must be set back ten yards from the road,
and divided from it by a breast-high railing.
The space between the building and the railing must be laid out as a garden.
Fourth, the walls to be built of the patent tubular bricks, similar to the model.
All ornamentation to be left to the taste of the architect.
Fifth, the roofs to be in terraces, slightly inclined from the four sides,
covered with bitumen, surrounded by a balustrade high enough to render accidents impossible,
and proper canals made for the passing off of rainwater.
Sixth, all the houses must be built on a vaulted foundation,
open on each side and thus forming under the ground floor a subsoil of aration,
as well as a hall.
All water pipes must be exposed, running up the central pillar,
in such a way that it may be always easy to ascertain their state,
and, in case of fire, to be able to obtain the necessary water,
immediately. The floor of this hall, rising about three inches above the level of the road,
must be properly graveled. A door and a special staircase will place it in direct communication
with the kitchens and offices, so that all household transactions may go on without offending,
either the eyes or the nose. Seventh, the kitchens and offices will, contrary to the usual custom,
be placed in the upper story and in communication with the terrace, a lift moved by mechanical
force, which, like artificial light and water, will be supplied at reduced prices to the inhabitants,
will easily convey all loads to this level.
Eighth, the plan of the rooms is left to individual taste, but two dangerous elements of
illness, regularness of myasma, and laboratories of poison.
are to be strictly excluded, carpets, and painted papers. The floors, beautifully inlaid with
valuable woods by clever workmen, would be quite wasted, were they hidden under a woollen cloth
of doubtful cleanliness. The walls lined with polished bricks present the brilliancy and variety
of the inner apartments of Pompeii, with a luxury of color which painted paper, charged with
with its thousand subtle poisons could never reach. They are washed as windows are washed,
and rubbed like ceilings and floors. Not even a germ of anything harmful can be harbored there.
Ninth. Each bedroom is distinct from the dressing room. It cannot be too much recommended
that the former apartment, where a third of a man's life has passed, should be the largest,
the most dairy and at the same time most simple. It must only be used for sleep. Four chairs,
an iron bedstead, supplied with two frequently beaten mattresses, is the only necessary furniture.
Ider down quilts and heavy coverlets, powerful allies of epidemics are excluded as a matter of course.
Good woolen coverings, light and warm and easily washed, replace them well. Though,
curtains and draperies are not absolutely forbidden. It is recommended that if used, they should be made of
washing materials. Tenth, each room may be warmed according to fancy by wood or coal, but to every chimney is a
corresponding opening to the outer air. The smoke, instead of issuing through the roof, is led away by
subterranean pipes to special furnaces established outside the town at the back of the houses.
at the rate of a furnace to every 200 inhabitants.
There it is deprived of the particles of carbon which it bears
and is discharged in a colorless state into the air at a height of 35 yards.
Such are the ten rules imposed on the building of each particular house.
The general arrangements are no less carefully studied.
The plan of the town is essentially simple and regular,
the roads crossing at right angles at equal distances of a uniform width, planted with trees, and numbered.
Some of the roads are wider, are then called boulevards or avenues, and leave on one side rails for tramways and metropolitan railways.
Public gardens are numerous and ornamented with fine copies of the masterpieces of sculpture,
until the artist of Frankville shall have produced original pieces,
worthy to replace them. Every industry and trade is free. Anyone wishing to have the right of living in
Frankfurt will must give good references, be fit to follow a useful or liberal profession in
industry science or the arts, and must engage to keep the laws of the town. An idle life would not
be tolerated there. There are already a large number of public edifices. The most important are
the cathedral, chapels, museums,
library, schools, and gymnasiums,
fitted up with the luxury and hygienic skill,
worthy of a great city.
It is needless to say that from the age of four years,
all children are obliged to follow physical and intellectual exercises,
calculated to develop the brain and muscles.
They are also accustomed to such strict cleanliness
that they consider a spot on their simple clothes quite a disgrace.
Individual and collective cleanliness is the great idea of the founders of Frankville, to clean, clean, unceasingly, so as to destroy the myasmas constantly emanating from a large community, such is the principal work of the central government. For this purpose, all the contents of the drains are led out of the town, condensed and daily transferred to the fields. Water flows everywhere in abundance.
The streets are paved with bituminated wood, and the stone footpaths are as spotless as a courtyard in Holland.
The provision markets are subject to strict surveillance, and any merchants who dare to speculate on the public health incur the severest penalties.
The man who sells a bad egg, damaged meat, or a pint of adulterated milk, is simply treated as the poisoner he really is.
This necessary and delicate office is confided to experienced men who receive a special education for it.
Their jurisdiction extends to the very laundries, which are on a large scale provided with steam engines,
artificial dryers, and above all, with disinfecting rooms.
No body linen is sent back to its owners without being thoroughly bleached, and special care is taken never
to mix the washing of two families.
This simple precaution is of great value.
Hospitals are few in number,
for the system of house nursing is general,
and they are reserved for homeless strangers and exceptional cases.
The idea of making the hospital larger than any other building,
and of putting seven or 800 patients under one roof,
so as to make a center of infection,
would not enter the head of the family.
of this model city. Far from this, it is in theirs as well as in the public interest,
to isolate the sick as much as possible. This is the plan pursued in the houses, the hospitals
being merely for the temporary accommodation of the most pressing cases. Twenty or thirty
patients at most, each having a separate apartment, are put into these light barracks,
which are built of fir wood and burnt regularly every year. They have besides the advantage of being
easily carried from one part of the town to another as they are wanted, and being all on one
model can be multiplied to any extent. Another ingenious institution is that of a body of experienced
nurses, specially trained for the purpose and always at the disposal of the public. These women being
carefully chosen, are most valuable and devoted aid to the doctors. They bring into the bosom of families
that practical knowledge, so necessary and yet so often absent. In the time of danger, it is their
mission to prevent the spread of the disease, as well as to tend the sick. We should never finish,
were we to attempt to enumerate all the hygienic perfections inaugurated by the founders of this new town.
On his arrival, each citizen is presented with a small pamphlet, in which the most important
principles of a life, regulated according to science, are set forth in clear and simple language.
He is there told that the perfect equilibrium of all the functions is one of the necessities
for health, that work and rest are equally indispensable, that fatigue is as necessary
for the brain as for the muscles, that nine-tenths of the illnesses are owing to contagion,
transmitted by air and food. He cannot surround his dwelling and his person with too many
sanitary precautions, to avoid the use of exciting poisons, to practice bodily exercises,
to conscientiously perform every day some appointed duty, to drink pure water, to eat fresh meat
and vegetables simply prepared to sleep regularly seven or eight hours a night. Such is the ABC of health.
Beginning from the first principles laid down by the founders, we have been led on to speak of this singular
city as already finished. It is indeed so. The first house is built, the others rose as if by magic.
A man should have previously visited the Far West in order to realize the wonderful change.
The site that was a desert in the month of January 1872 contained 6,000 houses in 1873.
In 1874, it possessed 9,000, and all public edifices complete.
Speculation has certainly had its part in this unheard of success.
the ground having cost nothing, the houses could be sold or let at very moderate prices.
There being no taxes, the political independence of this isolated little territory,
its novelty and the pleasant climate, all contributed to induce emigration.
At the present time, Frankfurt contains nearly a hundred thousand inhabitants,
but to us the most interesting part of it is that the result of the Senate,
experiment is conclusive. Whilst the annual mortality in the most favorite towns of Europe or the
New World has never been less than 3%. In Frankville, for these five years, the average has been
one and a half. Even this figure was increased by a slight fever epidemic during the first summer.
That of the last year was only one and a quarter. And a more important circumstance still,
is that, with but a few exceptions, all the deaths actually registered were due to specific and hereditary affections.
Accidental illnesses have been at once infinitely rarer and less dangerous than in any other great center.
As to epidemics, properly so called, nothing has been seen or heard of them.
It will be interesting to follow the development of this attempt, and certainly,
curious to discover if the influence of this scientific regime may not in the course of a generation,
or more likely still, after several generations, weaken hereditary and morbid predispositions.
It is assuredly not too much to hope, as one of the founders has written, and if so,
what may not be the grandeur of the result, everybody living for 90 or,
or hundred years, and then only dying of old age, as do the greater number of animals and plants.
There is something enchanting in such a dream.
Nevertheless, if we may be allowed to express our sincere opinion,
we have but an indifferent belief in the actual success of this experiment.
We see in it an original and probably fatal flaw, which is its being in the hands of
of a committee in which the Latin element prevails and from which the German element has been
systematically excluded. That is a bad symptom. Since the world began, nothing durable has been
made but by Germany, and without her, nothing perfect can be affected. The founders of Frankfurt
may clear the ground and elucidate some special points.
Not, however, on this spot in America, but on the borders of Syria, shall we one day see the true model city arise.
End of Section 10.
Section 11 of the Begum's Fortune by Jules Verne, translated by W. H.G. Kingston.
This Liprovoc's recording is in the public domain.
Chapter 11. At Dinner with Dr. Saracen.
On the 13th of September, although it wanted but a few hours to the time fixed on by Professor Schultz, for the destruction of Frankville, neither the governor nor a single person among the inhabitants dreamed of the danger which threatened them.
Seven o'clock in the evening arrived, half-buried in thick masses of oleander and tamarins, the beautiful city lay at the foot of the Cascade Mountains, its marble key,
gently caressed by the waves of the Pacific. The carefully watered roads, freshened by the breeze,
presented a cheerful and animated spectacle. The trees which shaded them rustled softly. The velvet lawns
were fresh and green. Brilliant beds of flowers exhaled their sweetness around the calm and smiling
white houses. The air was warm and balmy, and the sky as blue as the sea. The sea,
which glittered at the end of the long avenues.
A stranger arriving in the town would have been at once struck with the healthful look of the inhabitants
and the activity in the streets, the academies of painting, music, and sculpture,
and the library, all in the same quarter, had just been closed.
Excellent public courses were given there to small sections,
so that each pupil might get the full advantage.
of the lesson. Among the crowds issuing from these places and naturally causing some stoppage,
not an exclamation of impatience, nor an angry look, was heard or seen. The general aspect was one
of calmness and satisfaction. Not in the center of the town, but on the shores of the Pacific,
had Dr. Saracen built his house. It had been among the first put up, and he had come immediately
and established himself there with his wife and daughter Jeanette.
Octavius, the extempore millionaire,
had chosen to remain in Paris,
but he had no longer Max for a mentor.
The two friends had almost lost sight of each other
since the time when they lived together
in King of Sicily Street.
When the doctor emigrated with his wife and daughter
to the coast of Oregon,
Otto was his own master.
He soon neglected college, where his father had wished him to continue his studies, and was in consequence plucked in the final examination when his friend Max came out first.
Till then poor Otto, who was incapable of managing for himself, had had Max for a guide.
When the young Alsatian left, his companion directly began to see life in Paris.
He passed the greater part of his time on the box.
of a foreign-hand coach, driving perpetually between the Avenue Marigny, where he had rooms
and the various race-courses of the suburbs. Otto Saracen, who three months before could barely
manage to stick on a horse hired by the hour, had suddenly become deeply versed in the mysteries
of Hippology. His erudition was borrowed from an English groom who had entered his service,
and who ruled him entirely in consequence of the superiority of his special knowledge.
Interviews with Taylor, Sadlers, and bootmakers occupied the mornings.
His evenings were spent at the theaters and in the rooms of a flaming new club,
just opened at the corner of Trucet Street, and chosen by Otto,
because the people he met there paid to his money,
a homage which his personal merits has.
had not hitherto received. The company seemed to him highly distinguished. A noticeable thing about it
was that the handsomely framed list hanging in the waiting room bore few but foreign names.
Titles abounded so that you might almost fancy yourself in the antechamber of an heraldic college.
But on penetrating farther, one might imagine oneself in a living ethnological exhibition.
all the big noses and bilious complexions of the two hemispheres seemed to have met together there.
Otto Saracen reigned paramount among these worthies. His words were quoted, his cravats copied,
his opinions accepted as articles of faith, and intoxicated with this incense of flattery,
he never found out that he regularly lost money at play and the races. Perhaps,
certain members of the club, in their oriental capacity, thought that they had some rights on the
Biggham's heritage. At any rate, they were able to gradually draw it into their pockets by a slow,
though continued process. In this new life, the ties which bound Otto to Max Brookman were soon
loosened. At last, the two chums only exchanged letters at long intervals,
What could there be in common between the eager, hard-working man, solely occupied with bringing
his intellect to the highest point of culture and strength, and the idle youth, puffed up with his
riches, his thoughts only filled with club and stable gossip.
We know how Max left Paris, first to keep a watch on Herr Schultz, who had just founded Stahlstadt,
the rival to Frankville, and then actually to enter the service.
of the king of steel. For two years, Otto led his useless and dissipated life. Then a weariness of
these hollow and worthless pleasures seized him. And one fine day, after having wasted some millions
of Franks, he rejoined his father, thus escaping from moral and physical ruin. At the present time,
he was living in the doctor's house in Frankville. His sister Jeanette was now a lovely
girl of 19, to whose French grace her four years stay in the new country, had added all the good
American qualities. Her mother said sometimes that before having her so completely to herself,
she had never felt the charm of perfect intimacy. As to Madam Saracen, since the return of her
prodigal son, the child of her hopes, she was as completely happy as anyone can be here.
below, for she associated herself with all the good her husband could and did do with his immense
fortune. On the evening of which we have spoken, Dr. Saracen had invited to dinner two of his most
intimate friends, Colonel Hendon, an old hero of the War of Secession, who had left an arm
at Pittsburgh and an ear at seven oaks, but who could hold his own with
anyone at a game of chess, and Montser-Lentz, General Director of Instruction in the New City.
The conversation turned on the plans for the administration of the town, the results already
obtained in the public establishments of all sorts, institutions, hospitals, mutual aid societies.
Monsieur Lentz, according to the doctor's program, in which religious teaching was not forgotten,
had founded several elementary schools, where the cares of the master tended to develop the mind of the child,
by submitting it to a sort of intellectual gymnastic exercise, adjusted so as to follow the natural bent of its faculties.
It was taught to love a science before being crammed with it, avoiding that knowledge, which says Montaigne floats on the surface of the brain,
without penetrating the understanding or rendering its possessor either wiser or better.
Later, a well-prepared intellect can of itself choose its path and follow it with profit.
The principles of health took a first place in this well-ordered education.
Man should have equal command both of his mind and body.
If one fails him, he suffers for it, and the mind especially.
if unsupported by the body would soon give way. Frankville had now reached the highest degree of intellectual, as well as temporal prosperity. In its Congress were collected all the illustrious and learned men of the two worlds. Artists, painters, sculptors, musicians, attracted by the reputation of this city, crowded to it. All the young people of Frankville, who promised some day to-day to, to be able to,
to illuminate this corner of America, studied under these masters. This new Athens of French origin
was on the way to become the first of cities. A good military, as well as civil education,
was given in the colleges. All the young men were taught the use of firearms, as well as the
first principles of strategy and tactics. When this became the subject of conversation,
Colonel Hinton declared himself delighted with all his recruits.
They are, said he, already accustomed to forced marches, fatigue, and all kinds of manly exercises.
Our army is composed of citizens, and when the time comes to prove them, they will be found
disciplined and trustworthy soldiers.
Frankville was on the best terms with all the neighboring states, for she had ceased every
occasion to oblige them, but ingratitude speak so loudly when people's own interests are in question
that the doctor and his friends resolved not to lose sight of the maxim. Heaven helps those
who help themselves, and to rely on their own exertions. Dinner was over, the dessert was on the
table, and according to the usual custom, the ladies had just left the room.
Dr. Saracen, Otto, Colonel Hendon, and Monsieur Lentz continued the conversation, and were
attacking the higher questions of political economy when a servant entered and handed the
doctor his paper.
It was the New York Herald.
This respectable journal had always shown itself extremely favorable.
first to the foundation, and then to the development of Frankville, and the principles of the city
were accustomed to look in its columns for the possible variations of public opinion with regard to them
in the United States. This agglomeration of happy, free, and independent people on their little
neutral territory was envied by not a few, and if Frankville had many friends in America to defend her,
she also had enemies who delighted in attacking her.
At any rate, the New York Herald was on their side
and constantly expressed itself in terms of admiration and esteem.
Without interrupting himself in what he was saying,
Dr. Saracen opened the paper mechanically casting his eyes on the first paragraph.
Suddenly he stopped, confounded,
as he saw the following lines,
which he read to himself, and then allowed to the great surprise and greater indignation of his friends.
New York, September 8th, a violent attempt against the rights of men is shortly to take place.
We learn from a certain source that formidable preparations are being made at Stolstadt,
with the object of attacking and destroying Frankville, the city of French origin.
We do not know if the United States can or ought to interfere in this struggle, which will set the Latin and Saxon races by the years. But in common with all honest men, we denounce this odious abuse of strength. Frankville should not lose an hour in putting herself in a state of defense, etc.
End of Chapter 11. Section 12 of the Begham's Fortune by Jules Verne,
translated by W. H.G. Kingston. This Libre Fox's recording is in the public domain.
Chapter 12. The Council
The hatred which the King of Steel bore to Dr. Saracen's work was no secret.
Everyone knew that his was a rival city, but no one would have believed him capable of
of attacking a peaceful town and endeavoring to destroy it at a blow. The article in the New York
Herald was, however, positive on the point. The correspondence of that provincial journal had penetrated
Harris-Schultz designs, and as they said, there was not an hour to spare. The worthy doctor was
confounded. Like all honest-hearted men, he refused as long as he could. He was, and he could,
to believe in the evil designs of others.
It seemed to him impossible that a human being could be so wicked
as to wish to destroy without sufficient reason,
and from simple malice, a city,
which was, in a certain sense, the common property of mankind.
Just think that our average mortality will this year be only one in a quarter in every hundred,
he exclaimed naively,
that there is not a boy of ten years old who does not know how to read,
that not a murder or theft has been committed since the foundation of Frankville,
and these barbarians want to destroy the successful experiment at its very beginning?
No, I cannot believe that a chemist, a savant,
were he a hundred times a German, could be capable of such atrocity.
They were compelled, however, to trust to the evidence of a paper thoroughly devoted to their
undertaking and act without delay. The first moment of dismay passed, Dr. Saracen, regaining the
command of his feelings, thus addressed his friends. Gentlemen, you are members of the civic
counsel, and it is your duty as well as mine, to take all necessary measures for the safety of the
town. What ought we to do first? Is there no possibility of arranging matters? said Monsieur Lentz.
Can we not honorably avoid war? That is impossible, replied Otto. Herr Schultz evidently will
have it at any price. His hate will not allow him to come to terms. Very much. Very much.
well, exclaimed the doctor. We shall be ready to receive him. Do you think, Colonel, that anything can
resist the cannons of Stolstadt? Any human force can be efficaciously combated by another human force,
answered Colonel Hendon, but we need not think of defending ourselves by the same means and the same
arms, which Air Shultz will use to attack us. The construction of engines of war capable
of opposing his would take a long time to make, and I do not know, besides, if we should succeed
in fabricating them, since we have not special workshops. I can only see one chance of safety,
that of preventing the enemy from reaching us and rendering an investment impossible. I will go
immediately and convoked the council, said Dr. Saracen, and he led his guess into his study.
It was a simply furnished room, three sides being covered with shelves loaded with books,
whilst the fourth presented below several pictures and curiosities, a row of numbered openings
similar to ear trumpets.
Thanks to the telephone, said he, we can hold a council in Frankville whilst everyone remains at
home.
The doctor touched a warning bell, which instantaneously communicated with the houses of all
the members. In less than three minutes, the word present brought successively by each wire
announced that the council was sitting. The doctor placed himself before the mouthpiece,
rung the bell, and said, The meeting is open. My Honorable Friend, Colonel Hendon,
will speak to make a communication of the deepest importance. The Colonel, in his turn,
placed himself before the telephone, and after reading the articles from the New York Herald,
he proposed that immediate measures should be taken to impede the advance of the enemy.
He had scarcely concluded when number six put the question,
Does the Colonel believe a defense possible, in case the means by which he hopes to prevent
the enemy from reaching us does not succeed?
Colonel Hendon replied in the affirmative, the question and answer.
answer, instantaneously reached each invisible member of the council, as well as the explanations
which preceded them. Number seven asked how long in his estimation it would take for the people
of Frankville to prepare. The colonel could not say, but it would be advisable to act as if they
were to be attacked in a fortnight. Number two, should we await the attack, or would you think it
preferable to prevent it. We must do all in our power to prevent it, answered the colonel,
and if we are threatened with a fleet, we must blow up Herr Schultz's ships with torpedoes.
On this, Dr. Saracen offered to call into counsel the most distinguished chemists, as well as the most
experienced artillery officers, and give to them the task of examining the plans which Colonel Hendon
had ready to submit to them.
Question from number one.
What is the sum necessary for the immediate commencement of the works of defense?
We should have at our disposal from $15 to $20 million of dollars.
I propose that the Citizens' Assembly be instantly convoked.
President Saracen, I will put it to the vote.
The bells in each telephone rang twice, announcing that the proposal
was unanimously adopted. It was half past eight. The council had only lasted 18 minutes and had not
disturbed anyone. The popular assembly was convoked by means as simple and almost as expeditious. Dr. Saracen
communicated by telephone the vote of the council to the town hall, an electric appeal was instantly
set in motion at the summit of each of the columns in every square of the city.
The columns were surmounted by luminous dial plates, on which the hands, moved by electricity,
pointed to half-past eight, the hour for the assembly. This clamorous call, continuing for a quarter of an hour,
brought all the inhabitants out of their houses. They glanced up at the nearest dial,
and ascertaining that some national duty required their presence at the town hall, they hastened thither as fast as possible.
In less than 45 minutes, the assembly was complete. Dr. Saracen was already in the place of honor,
surrounded by the council, whilst Colonel Hendon waited at the foot of the tribune,
until permission was given him to speak. The greater number of the citizens already knew
the reason of the meeting being called. In fact, the discussion of the city council
automatically stereographed by the town hall telephone had been immediately,
sent to the papers, printed in a special edition, and placarded all over the town.
The municipal hall was an immense building, roofed with glass and brilliantly lighted by gas.
The crowd which filled it was calm and orderly, everyone standing. All the faces were cheerful,
perfect health, an active and regular life and a quiet conscience, placed them above any unruly
passion of alarm or anger. At exactly half-past eight, the president rang his bell and silence fell on
the assembly. The colonel ascended the tribune. There, in sober but forcible language, without
useless ornament or oratorical pretensions, the language of a man who, knowing what he is talking
about, clearly expresses himself. Colonel Hendon related the inveterate. The inveterate, the inveterate,
hate, which Herr Schultz bore against Frankville, Dr. Saracen, and his work, and the formidable
preparations announced by the New York Herald, destined to destroy their city and its inhabitants.
It is for you to decide what is best to be done. He continued, some people possessing neither
courage nor patriotism might perhaps to give up the land and leave the aggressive, and leave the
aggressors to do what they wish with their new home. But I am certain beforehand that such
a pusillanimous proposal would find no echo among my fellow citizens. Men who are able to understand
the greatness of the object aimed at by the founders of the Model City, men who have accepted its
laws, and necessarily men of heart and intelligence, sincere representatives of progress,
You will do everything to save our incomparable town, the glorious monument raised by science, to
ameliorate the fallen condition of man. Your duty, therefore, is to give your lives for the cause you
represent. Thunders of applause greeted this peroration. Several speakers supported Colonel Hendon's
motion, Dr. Saracen, having impressed the necessity of constituting a committee of defense, which was to
take immediate measures, with all the secrecy indispensable in military operations, the proposal
was adopted. A member of the Civic Council then suggested that $5 million should be voted for the
works. A show of hands ratified this measure. At five and 20 minutes past 10,
the meeting was over, and the citizens of Frankville were about to leave the hall when an unexpected
incident occurred. The empty tribune was suddenly occupied by a stranger of most curious appearance.
He had sprung up as if by magic. His face showed that he was laboring under frightful excitement,
but his attitude was calm and resolute, his torn and muddy clothes, his bleak, his bleat. He was,
leading forehead, told of something extraordinary. At sight of him, everyone paused. With an imperative
gesture, the stranger commanded silence. Who was he? When did he come? No one, not even Dr. Saracen,
ventured to ask him, I have just escaped from Stolstadt, he said.
Herr Schultz had condemned me to death. God has allowed me to reach you in time to
attempt to save you. I am not unknown to you all. My venerated master, Dr. Saracen, can tell you,
I hope that in spite of my appearance, rendering me unrecognizable even to him,
some confidence may be placed in Max Brookman.
Max! exclaimed both the doctor and Otto at once, starting towards him. He stopped them
by a sign. Max had been indeed miraculously saved, after forcing the grating just as he was almost
suffocated. The current swept him onwards, and two minutes later threw him on the bank outside Stolstadt,
indeed, but almost lifeless. For several hours, the brave young fellow lay stretched motionless
in the darkness, far from all hope on the lonely desolate.
When consciousness returned, it was daylight. He thanked God that he had escaped from that horrible
stalstatt. He was no longer a prisoner. The next moment, his thoughts were concentrated on Dr. Saracen,
his friends and fellow citizens. I must save them, he repeated. By a supreme effort he got upon his
feet. He was 30 miles from
Frankfurt, and he had 30
miles to traverse on foot,
for there was no railway in that
direction, not even a cart
or horse to be got.
For the whole country round the
terrible steel city was shunned.
He pressed on, however,
without taking a moment's rest,
and at a quarter past ten,
arrived at the city.
The placards which covered the walls
told him all,
He found that the inhabitants had been warned of the threatened danger, but they were not aware of its frightful nature, or that it was immediate.
The catastrophe premeditated by Herr Schultz was to take place on this very evening at a quarter to 12.
It was now quarter past ten.
Max had not a moment to lose.
He sped through the town, and at 25 minutes past ten, as the assembly was about to break up,
He scaled the Tribune.
Not in a month, my friends, he cried.
Not even in a week, must you expect the danger.
But in an hour, this awful catastrophe, a rain of iron and fire will burst upon your town.
An engine worthy the invention of a fiend, which will carry 30 miles, is at this very moment
pointed against us.
I have seen it.
Let the women and children seek.
shelter in the deepest and strongest cellars, or let them instantly leave the town and take refuge in
the mountains. All the men must prepare to combat the fire by every possible means. Fire will for the
first time be your only enemy. Neither armies nor soldiers will march against you. The adversary who
menaces you disdains all ordinary modes of attack if the plans and calculations of a man who
His power for evil is well known to you are realized, unless Herr Schultz is mistaken for the first
time in his life.
Fire will suddenly break out in at least a hundred places all over Frankville.
We shall presently have to face the flames at a hundred different points.
Whatever happens, the population must be saved first.
such of your houses and monuments which cannot be preserved, or even the whole town, time and money can restore.
In Europe, Max would have been thought mad, but in America it is not wise to refuse to believe in any miracle of science, however unexpected.
So by Dr. Saracen's advice, the young engineer was listened to and believed in.
The crowd awed as much by the accent and appearance of the speaker as by his words,
obeyed, without even dreaming of disputing his commands.
The doctor answered for Max Brookman, that was enough.
Orders were immediately given and messengers sent out in every direction.
As to the inhabitants, some withdrew to the cellars of their dwellings,
resigned to suffer all the horrors of a bombardment.
others on foot, horseback, or in carriages, hastened out into the country and ascended the steeps of the
Cascade Mountains. In the meantime, the able-bodied men collected in the square, and in different
places pointed out by the doctor, everything that would serve to subdue fire, that is to say,
water, earth, and sand. In the hall, the deliberation continued. Max was evidently beset by some
idea which filled his brain to the exclusion of every other thought. He muttered to himself,
at a quarter to twelve, it's really possible that that villainous Schultz will destroy us all
with his execrable invention? Suddenly Max drew out his pocketbook. He made a gesture requiring silence,
and then pencil in hand rapidly put down several figures on one of the pages.
As he did so, his brow cleared. His face became radiant.
Ah, my friends, he exclaimed, my friends! Either these figures are liars, or else all that we fear
will vanish like a nightmare before the evidence of a problem in the science of projectiles,
the solution of which I have till this moment sought in vain.
Herr Schultz is mistaken, the threatened dangerous but a dream. For once,
His science is at fault. Nothing of what he foretold will come to pass. It's impossible.
His formidable shell will fly over Frankfurt without touching it, and if there is anything to fare,
it will be only in the future. What could Max mean? His friends did not understand. The young
Alsatian then explained the result of his calculations. In his clear ringing voice, he explained his
demonstration in such a way as to render it luminous, even to the most ignorant.
It was light succeeding darkness, calm following agony.
Not only would the projectile leave untouched the doctor's city, but it would touch nothing
whatever.
It was destined to lose itself in space.
Dr. Saracen acknowledged the correctness of Max's calculations.
and then, pointing to the luminous dial in the hall.
In three minutes, he exclaimed,
We shall know whether Schultz or Max Brookman is right.
Whatever happens, my friends,
we need not regret any of the precautions we have taken,
and we still must neglect nothing which can baffle the inventions of our enemy.
If his design fails for the present,
as Max has just given us reason to hope,
it won't be the last.
Schultz's hate will never be stifled or arrested.
Come! exclaimed Max.
All followed him into the square.
Three minutes passed in breathless suspense.
The quarter before twelve was toiled forth from the great clock.
Four seconds after, a dark mass was seen high above their heads.
Quick as thought rushed onwards, and with a sinister hiss,
soon disappeared far beyond the town.
A pleasant journey, do it! shouted Max with a burst of laughter.
If the Herr Schultz's shell keeps up that speed, it will never again fall upon terrestrial soil.
In two minutes, a roar was heard like distant thunder.
This was the report of the cannon in the bull tower, the sound reaching Frankville,
113 seconds after the projectile had passed at the rate of 450 miles an hour.
End of Section 12.
Section 13 of the Begum's Fortune by Jules Verne,
translated by W.H.G. Kingston.
This Lipervox recording is in the public domain.
Chapter 13. News for the Professor
Max Brookman.
To Professor Schultz of Stolstadt.
Frankville, September 14th.
I consider it proper to inform the King of Steel
that on the evening of the day before yesterday,
I succeeded in passing beyond the frontier of his dominion,
preferring my own safety to that of the model in the blazing workshop.
While taking leave, I should fail in my bounden duty, where I not in turn to reveal my secrets.
Do not, however, be uneasy on that account. I shall not require you to pay for the knowledge with your life.
My real name is not Schwartz, and I am not a Swiss. All sauce is my country, and I am called Max Brookman.
I am a tolerable engineer, if one may take your word for it. But first and foremost, I am a Frenchman. You have shown yourself the implacable enemy of my country, my friends, and my family. You have entertained odious designs against everything I hold most dear. I have dared and done all in order to discover those designs, I will dare and do all to frustrate.
them. I hasten to let you know that your first shot has failed to take effect. It has not hit the mark,
for, thank heaven, it could not. Your gun is not the less a wonderful one, though the projectiles
which it sends forth will never do any harm to anyone. They will fall nowhere. I had a presentiment
of this and to your great glory. It is now an established fact that Herr Schultz has
invented a wonderful cannon, entirely inoffensive. You will hear with pleasure that we saw your
perfect shell at 45 minutes and four seconds past 11, pass over our town. It was flying towards
the west, circulating in space, which it will continue to do until the end of time, a projectile
animated with an initial speed 20 times superior to the actual speed, being 10,000 yards to the second,
can never fall. This movement, combined with terrestrial attraction,
destens it to revolve perpetually round our globe. You ought to have been aware of this.
I hope and expect that the cannon in the bull tower is quite spoiled by this first trial,
but $200,000 is not too much to have paid for the pleasure of having endowed the planetary world
with a new star and the Earth with a second satellite.
Max Brookman
An express was immediately sent from Frankville to Stalstadt with this letter,
and Max must be forgiven for not having been able to resist the satisfaction of writing it to Herschelds.
Max was quite right when he said that the famous shell would never again fall on the surface of the earth,
and also right when he predicted the cannon of the bull tower would be rendered useless by the enormous charge of paroxyle.
The receipt of this letter greatly discomfited Herr Schultz, and was a terrible shock to his self-love.
As he read it, he turned perfectly livid, and his head fell on his breast,
as if he had been struck with a club.
He remained in this state of prostration for a quarter of an hour.
When he revived, his rage was frightful.
Arminius and Sigmar alone witnessed the outbursts.
However, Herrschultz was not a man to acknowledge himself beaten.
Henceforth, the struggle between him and Max would continue to the death.
He still had other shells charged with liquid carbonic acid, which less powerful but more practical
guns could throw to a short distance. Calming himself by an effort, the King of Steel re-entered his
study and continued his work. It was clear that Frankville, now more than ever, menaced with danger,
must neglect nothing by which it could be put into a perfect,
State of Defense.
End of Section 13.
Section 14 of the Begham's Fortune by Jules Verne,
translated by W.H.G. Kingston.
This Lipper Fox recording is in the public domain.
Chapter 14. Clearing for Action.
Although the danger was no longer imminent, it was serious.
Max communicated to Dr. Saracen and his
friends all that he knew of Harris Schulter's preparations and described his engines of destruction.
On the next day, the Council of Defense, in which he took a principal part, occupied itself
with discussing a plan of resistance and preparing to put it into execution. In all this,
Max was well seconded by Otto, whom he found altered in character and much improved. No one knew the
details of the resolutions passed. The general principles alone were regularly communicated to the press.
It was not difficult to trace in them, the practical hand of Max. In preparing for defense, said the
townsfolk, the great thing is to know the strength of the enemy and adapt the system of resistance
to that strength. No doubt, Herr Schultz's canon are formidable, but it is better to have to face
these guns, of which we know the number, caliber, range, and effect, than to have to combat
unknown engines. It was decided to prevent the investment of the town, either by land or sea.
How this was best to be done was a question actively discussed by the council, and the day
on which a placard announced that this problem was solved, no one doubted it. The citizens hastened
on mass to execute the undertaking. No tasks were despised which could contribute to the work of
defence. Men of all ages and of every position in life became simple labourers on this occasion,
and everything went on rapidly and cheerfully. Provisions sufficient for two years were stored in the
town, coal and iron also were brought in considerable quantities. The iron, being wrapped,
requisite for manufacturing arms of all sorts, and the coal absolutely necessary, both for warmth
and for fuel to work the various warlike engines it was intended to employ. In addition to the
heaps of iron and coal could be seen gigantic piles, composed of sacks of flour and quarters
of smoked meat, stacks of cheeses, mountains of preserved and dried vegetables, all stores.
in the marketplaces, numbers of sheep and cattle were also enclosed in the beautiful gardens of the town.
When the decree appeared for the mobilization of all men able to carry arms, the enthusiasm with which
it was received testified to the excellent disposition of these soldier citizens, plainly dressed
in woolen shirts, cloth trousers and half boots, strong leather caps and armed with
word or rifles. They drilled every day in the avenues. Gangs of coolies banked up earth,
dug trenches, raised entrenchments, and redouts at every favorable point. The casting of guns
had been commenced and pushed on with activity, for the numerous smoke furnaces in the city
were easily transformed into casting furnaces. Max was indefatigable in all this. He was here,
there, and everywhere in the thick of all the work. Did some theoretical or practical difficulty arise?
He could immediately solve it. If necessary, he turned up his sleeves and gave a practical definition.
His authority was always accepted without a murmur, and his orders punctually attended to.
Next to him, Otto did his best. Although at first he had thought of ornamenting his uniform with
gold lace, he soon gave up the idea, seeing that to set a good example to others, he must be
content to do the duty of a simple soldier. He therefore took his place in the battalion assigned
to him and conducted himself like a model soldier. To those who at first attempted to pity him,
he replied,
"'Everyone one according to his merits.
Perhaps I should not have been able to command,
the least I can do is to learn to obey.'
A report, which turned out to be false,
gave a still more lively impulse to the works of defense.
Herr Schultz, it was said,
was negotiating with some maritime company
for the transport of his cannon.
From that time, these sort of hoaxes were the order of the day.
Now it was that the Schultz fleet was off the coast of Frankville, and now that the Sacramento Railway
had been cut by Ullands, who had apparently dropped from the clouds.
But all these rumors, which were immediately contradicted, were invented by the correspondence
of newspapers, hard up for matter to fill their dispatches, their object being to sustain the curiosity
of their readers. The truth was that Stolstadt did not give the...
least sign of life. This perfect quietude, although it left Max ample time to complete his
preparations, caused him a good deal of uneasiness in his rare moments of leisure. Is it possible that
the ruffian has changed his tactics and is preparing some new mode of attack, he thought, however,
the plans for checking the advance of the enemy's ships and preventing the investment of the town
promised to answer well, and Max redoubled his exertions.
His sole pleasure and only rest after a hard day's work
was the short hour which he passed every evening in Madam Saracen's drawing-room.
From the first the doctor had stipulated that he should always come and dine at his house,
unless he was prevented by another engagement.
But by some singular circumstance, no other imme.
invitation enticing enough to make Max give up this privilege had as yet presented itself.
The everlasting game of chess between the doctor and Colonel Hendon could not have been sufficiently
interesting to explain the punctuality with which he presented himself every day at the door
of the mansion. We are therefore compelled to believe that there was another attraction for Max,
and we might perhaps have suspected its nature, although assuredly he did not, as yet, suspected himself.
Had we observed the interest which he took in the conversations between himself, Madam Saracen, and Mademoiselle Jeanette,
when they were all three seated near the large table, at which the two ladies were working at what might be necessary for future service in the ambulances,
Will these new steel bolts be better than those of which you showed us a drawing?
asked Jeanette, who was interested in everything connected with the defense.
No doubt about it, mademoiselle, replied Max.
Oh, I'm very glad of that.
But how much trouble in research is represented by the smallest industrial particular.
You told me that 500 fresh yards of the trench were dug yesterday.
That is a great deal, is it not?
Indeed, no, it is not nearly enough.
At that rate, we shall not have finished the enclosure at the end of a month.
I should much like to see it done, and these horrible Schultz people arriving.
Men are very fortunate in being able to work and make themselves useful.
Waiting is never so trying for them, as for us, who are of no use.
of no use exclaimed Max, usually so calm, no use, and for whom do you think do these brave men
who have left everything to become soldiers? For whom do they work, if not to secure the safety and
happiness of their mothers, their wives, and those whom they hope may become their wives?
From once comes their ardor, if not from you, and to what would you trace this readiness to
sacrifice themselves, if not.
Here, Max got rather confused and stopped.
Madameoiselle Jeanette did not urge him, and good Madame Saracen herself, was obliged
to close the discussion by saying to the young man that a love of duty was doubtless sufficient
to explain the zeal of the greater number.
And when Max, at the call of the inexorable duty, tore himself away from.
this pleasant talk in order to finish a plan or an estimate, he carried with him the invincible
determination to save Frankville and its inhabitants. Little could he conjecture what was about to happen,
and yet it was but the inevitable result of a state of things so utterly unnatural as this
concentration of all power in a single person, which was the fundamental principle in the
city of steel. End of Section 14. Section 15 of the Begum's Fortune by Jules Verne,
translated by W. H.G. Kingston. This Librevox recording is in the public domain.
Chapter 15. The Exchange of San Francisco.
The exchange of San Francisco, by which term is expressed, as it were algebraically, immense industrial and commercial business, presents one of the strangest and most animated scenes in the world.
The geographical position of the capital of California imparts to its exchange as a natural consequence, the cosmopolitan character, which is one of its most remarkable features.
Beneath its handsome red granite porticos, the tall, fair Saxon jostles, the slight, active, dark-haired
Celt. The Negro meets the Finlander and the Hindu. The Polynesian gazes with astonishment at the Greenlander.
The Chinaman, with oblique eyes and long-plated pigtail, endeavors to outdo in trade his historic
enemy, the Japanese. Every tongue, every dialect, every jargon mingles there as in a modern babble.
On the 12th of October, this place of business opened in its usual way. At about 11 o'clock,
the principal brokers and men of business began to arrive, accost one another gravely or gaily,
according to their several tempers, shaking hands and going together to the refreshment bar, to
fortify themselves by licking up for the operations of the day.
One after the other went to open the little metal door of the numbered letter boxes,
which in the vestibule received the correspondence of subscribers.
Enormous packets of letters were drawn forth and eagerly examined.
In a short time, the market prices for the day were announced,
when the crowd gradually increased.
groups more or less numerous were formed from among which arose a murmur and hum of human voices.
Then commenced a shower of telegraphic messages from all quarters of the globe.
Scarcely a minute passed that the officials of the exchange did not add a fresh strip of blue paper
to the collection of telegrams placarded on the north wall, which was read forth in a stentorian voice,
amid the now deafening buzz. The commotion and hubbub went on increasing. Clerks rushed in and out. The telegraph office was besieged. Messages sent out. Answers received every instant. All notebooks were open, entries made, erased, or torn up. At about one o'clock, a contagious excitement appeared to take possession of the crowd. A mysterious sensation passed.
like the trembling of an earthquake
through these agitated groups of human beings.
A piece of news, startling, unexpected,
and incredible, had been brought
by one of the partners in the bank of the Far West,
and it circulated with the rapidity of an electric flash.
Exclamations and comments were heard on all sides.
Impossible, it's a trick, a hoax, said some.
Who is likely to be?
believe anything so preposterous.
Well, said others, there may be something in it, no smoke without fire, you know, but is a man
in his position likely to fail? People in apparently the very best positions fail.
But, sir, cried one, the fixtures, tools, and engines alone represent more than $80 million.
Without reckoning the cast iron and steel raw material and manufactured articles,
added another. To be sure, that's just what I say, too. Shultz is good for 90 millions of dollars,
and I'll undertake to be answerable for that on his demand. Well, but then how do you explain
the suspension of payment? Explain? I don't explain it at all. I don't believe it, don't you,
as if such things did not happen every day to houses of the most firm and established reputations.
Stolstadt is not a house. It is a city. Of course. It is perfectly impossible. It can have broken up so
completely. A company will certainly be formed to carry on the business. But why on earth did not Schultz
form such a company instead of declaring himself bankrupt? Exactly, sir, and there's the absurdity.
So absurd that the statement won't bear examination. It is neither more nor less than a pure fabrication,
probably invented by Nash, who is desperately anxious for a rise in steel.
A fabrication, false intelligence, nothing of the sort.
Schultz has not only failed, he has absconded.
Come, come, absconded, sir.
The telegram announcing it has this moment been posted up.
A formidable wave of humanity rolled towards the frame in which the dispatches were placarded,
guarded. The last strip of blue paper bore these words. New York, 1240, Central Bank,
manufacturing of Stollstadt, stopped payment, liabilities, as far as known, $47 million.
Schultz has disappeared. There was now no doubt about the truth of the astounding intelligence,
and conjectures and rumors were rife.
by two o'clock lists of failures consequent upon that of Schultz began to pour in.
The Mining Bank of New York lost most.
The firm of Westerly and Sun at Chicago was implicated to the extent of $7 million.
The House of the Milwaukee's of Buffalo, five millions.
The Industrial Bank of San Francisco, a million and a half.
The names of numbers of minor firms followed with proportionate losses.
But without waiting for this news, came the natural rebound.
The money market, which was so dull in the morning, was now not steady for two hours together.
What starts, what rises, what fluctuations, what unrestrained speculation.
A rise in steel, and going up every minute.
Arise in coal.
arise in the shares of all the foundries in the American Union, arise in the products of every
kind of iron industry, arise in Frankville land. Although on the declaration of war, the latter had fallen
to zero, and disappeared from the list of quotations, it had now suddenly risen to a hundred and
$80 an acre. In the evening, the newspaper shops were perfectly besieged. But though the herald,
the Tribune, the Alta, the Guardian, the Echo, and the Globe, printed in gigantic characters,
the meager information they had been able to collect, it after all amounted to very little. All that
was known was that on the 25th of September, a draft for eight millions of dollars,
accepted by Herr Schultz, drawn by Jackson, Elder, and Company of Buffalo, having been presented
to Shring Strauss and Company, the King of Steel's Bankers in New York, those gentlemen had stated
that the balance to their client's account was insufficient for such an enormous sum,
and had telegraphed this to him without receiving any answer. On referring to their books,
they perceived with consternation that for 13 days no letter and no bills had come from Stolstadt.
From that moment drafts and checks drawn by Herr Schultz on their bank came in daily to undergo the fate of being returned with the words, no funds.
For four days, inquiries, telegrams, and furious questions reigned from one side on the bank, and then again,
on Stolstadt, at last, a decisive reply was given. Herr Schultz disappeared on the 17th of September.
So said the telegram, no one can throw the least light on this mystery. He has left no orders,
and the coffers in every section are empty. Since then it had been no longer possible to conceal the
truth. Many of the principal creditors had taken fright and sent in their claims to the commercial
court. Ruin spread rapidly in all directions. At 12 o'clock on the 13th of October, the total amount
of failures was estimated at 47 millions of dollars. When everything became known, it was likely to
amount to 60 millions. This was all that could be said, and all that the journals, with a few
exceptions, could report. Of course they announced for the next day, full and special particulars,
as yet unpublished, and indeed to do them justice, each within an hour of the first announcement
had dispatched a correspondent on the road to Stolstadt. By the evening of the 14th of October,
Steel City was besieged by an army of reporters, all with open notebooks and pencils in hand.
Like a wave, however, they broke against the outer wall, for the sentries were in their places,
and any attempt to bribe or soften them was utterly in vain.
They, nevertheless, ascertained that the workmen, as yet, knew nothing,
and that the routine of the sections in nothing had been changed.
changed. The overseers had merely announced the day before by superior order that no funds nor
instructions had been issued from the central block, and that in consequence the works would be
suspended the following Saturday unless contrary orders were received. All this only complicated
instead of throwing any light on the situation, that Herr Schultz had disappeared for nearly a
of that there was no doubt. But what might be the cause and import of this disappearance,
no one knew. A vague impression that the mysterious personage might at any moment reappear still
prevailed, and seemed to lessen the general uneasiness. For some days all work had gone on as usual.
Everyone had pursued his task within the limited horizon of his section. The salaries were paid,
from the strong boxes every Saturday, and the principal coffer had met all the local necessities,
but centralization had been brought to too high a pitch of perfection in Stolstadt.
The master had reserved so absolutely to himself, the superintendence of everything,
that his absence could not fail in a very short time to cause a stoppage in the machinery.
Thus, from the 17th of September, the day on which the King of Steel had signed his orders for the last time, up to the 13th of October, when the news of the suspension of payment had burst like a thunder-clap.
Millions of letters, a large number containing considerable bills, passed through the Stalstadt Post Office, had been deposited in the box of the central block, and no doubt had reached.
Herr Schultz's study, but he alone had the right to open them, mark them with a red pencil,
and transmit them to the principal cashier. Even the highest functionaries in the town
never dreamt of doing anything out of their regular department. Invested with almost absolute
power over their subordinates, they were each in connection with Herr Schultz, as they were
also with his memory, like so many instruments, without authority, without power of initiating,
or a voice in any matter. Each fortified himself within the narrow limits of his commission,
waited, temporized, and watched the course of events. The end came at last. This remarkable state
of affairs was prolonged until the principal houses interested, suddenly seized with a panic,
telegraphed, begged for an answer, entreated, protested, and finally commenced legal proceedings.
This took some time. No one was willing hastily to suspect that prosperity so firmly believed in
had been resting on an insecure basis. But the fact was now patent. Herr Schultz had fled
from his creditors. This was all that the reporters could gather.
The celebrated Michael John himself, famous for having extracted a political avowal from President Grant,
the most taciturn man of his time, the indefatigable blunderbuss, remarkable for being the first,
although but a simple correspondent of the world, to announce to the Tsar the news of the capitulation of Plovna.
Even these great men, in the reporting line, had not this time been more fortunate.
than their brethren. They were forced to confess to themselves that the Tribune and the world
could not yet give the latest news of the bankrupt Schultz. That Stolstadt was indeed in a strange
situation will be seen when it is remembered that it was an independent and isolated town,
permitting no regular and legal inquiry. Herr Schultz's signature was, it is true, protested at
New York. And his creditors had every reason to believe that the stock and
manufacturing would indemnify them in some degree. But to what court should they apply to
obtain an execution or sequestration? Stolstadt lay in a territory of its own, where everything
belonged to Herr Schultz. If only he had left a representative, an administrative council,
or a substitute, but there was nothing of the sort. He himself was king, judge, general and chief,
notary, lawyer, and the only commercial court in the city. In his person, he had realized the
ideal of centralization. Therefore, he being absent, there was absolutely no one in power,
and the whole fabric fell like a house of cards. In any other situation, the creditors would have been
able to form a syndicate, substituting themselves for Herr Schultz, lay hand on the stock,
and to take the direction of affairs. To all appearance, only a little money and regulating power
was needed to set the machine to work. But nothing of this was possible. The proper legal
instrument to effect this substitution was wanting. There was a moral barrier round the city of
steel, which was, if possible, more insurmountable than its walls. The unfortunate creditors
could see the securities for their debts, though quite unable to touch them. All they could do
was to unite in a general assembly, and agree to address a request to the Congress, to ask it to
take their case in hand, espouse the interests of its natives, pronounce,
the annexation of Stalstadt to American territory, and thus include this monstrous creation
in the common laws of civilization. Several members of the Congress were personally interested in the
business. The request was tempting to the American character, and there was reason to believe
that it would be crowned with complete success. Unfortunately, the Congress was not been in session,
so that a long delay was to be feared before the matter could be submitted to it.
Until that time, nothing could be done in Stolstadt,
and one by one the furnaces were extinguished.
The consternation among the population of 10,000 families
who lived by the manufactory was profound.
But what were they to do?
Continue to work in hopes of wages,
which might be six months in coming,
or it might never come at all? No one was inclined to adopt this opinion. Besides, what work could they do?
The source from which orders came was dried up, as well as everything else. All Herr Schultz's
clients waited the legal solution. The heads of the sections, engineers, and overseers could do
nothing for want of orders. Numberless assemblies, meetings, and debates took place.
though no plan could really be fixed on,
the enforced stoppage soon brought with it
a train of misery, despair, and vice.
As the workshops emptied,
the public houses filled.
For each chimney which ceased to smoke in the factory,
a tavern sprung up in one of the neighboring villages,
the wisest and most prudent among the workmen,
those who had foreseen hard times
and had laid by for a rainy day, hastened to escape, with bag and baggage, and happy, rosy-cheeked
children, wild with delight at the new world revealed to them, peeped through the curtains of the
departing wagons, loaded with their father's tools and furniture and the precious bedding,
dear to the heart of the housewife. These all were scattered east to south and north,
soon finding other factories, other anvils, other hearthstones.
But for one who could thus depart, there were ten whose poverty nailed them to the soil.
There they remained hollow-eyed and broken-hearted, selling their poor garments to the flock of birds of prey in human shape,
whose instinct attracts them to scenes of great disasters, reduced to the last extremities in a few days,
deprived of credit as well as of wages, of hope, as well as work, and seeing before them a future,
of misery, as black and dismal, as the fast approaching winter.
End of Section 15. Section 16 of the Begum's Fortune by Jules Verne,
translated by W. H.G. Kingston. This Librevox recording is in the public domain.
Chapter 16 A Brace of Frenchmen Capture a Town
When tidings of the disappearance of Schultz reached Frankville, Max's first words were,
Suppose it should be merely a trick. He reflected, however, that the results of Stolstadt
had been so disastrous as to make such an hypothesis inadmissible, still as hatred in an unreasoning
passion, the exasperated rage of such a man as Herr Schultz might really render him capable of
sacrificing everything to it. Whether or not this was the case, it was undeniably necessary to
be on the Kiev-Veeve. The Council of Defence immediately, therefore, issued a proclamation,
exhorting the inhabitants to be on their guard against false reports spread by the enemy
with the object of lulling them into security.
Frankville judged it prudent to continue all the preparations for defense,
taking no notice of what might, after all, prove to be a stratagem of its arch enemy.
But by and by, the journals of San Francisco, Chicago, and New York,
published further details,
and news of the financial and commercial consequences of the Stolstadt,
catastrophe, forming altogether a mass of evidence to prove that Schultz was a genuine bankrupt and had
indeed disappeared. And so one fine morning, the doctor's model city became aroused to the fact that it was
safe, just as a sleeper escapes from the oppression of a horrible dream by the simple operation of
awaking. Yes, Frankville was clearly out of danger without having to strike a
a blow, and Max, now absolutely certain of it, announced the news amid public rejoicing.
A strain seemed suddenly removed. The public drew, as it were, a long sigh of relief,
and assumed a holiday aspect. Everybody shook hands, offered mutual congratulations,
and invited each other to dinner. All the women came out in fresh toilets, and the men took leave of
drill, maneuvers, and hard work. Everyone went about looking satisfied and beaming.
Frankville was just like a town peopled with convalescence, but among them all, the happiest,
was unquestionably, Dr. Saracen. The worthy man had felt himself responsible for the fate of those
who had come with confidence to settle on his territory and to place themselves under his protection.
For the last month, the fear of having allured them to destruction when he had only sought their happiness had never left him a moment's rest.
Now he was released from terrible anxiety and breathed freely.
The common danger had more closely united the citizens.
All classes had been brought nearer to each other and knew themselves brothers, animated with the same feelings and affected by the same interests.
A new sensation had sprung up in the hearts of all. Henceforward, the inhabitants had a strong
feeling of patriotism for Frankville. They had feared. They had suffered for their town,
and now they knew how much they loved it. The material results of having placed it in a state
of defense were also to the advantage of the city. Their strength was known. They felt more sure
of themselves, and would now be ready.
for whatever the future might bring. The prospects of Dr. Saracen's work had never appeared more
brilliant, and a rare thing. No ingratitude was shown towards Max. Although the safety of the
population had not been his work, public thanks were voted to the young engineer as to the
organizer of the defense, the man to whose devotion the town would have owed its safety had the plans
of Herscheld's succeeded. Max, however, did not regard his part as finished. The mystery surrounding
Stalstadt might still, he thought, concealed danger. He could not rest satisfied until he had thrown
complete light into the very midst of the darkness which still enveloped the city of steel.
He resolved, therefore, to return to Stalstadt and to stop at nothing, until he had probed the last
secret to its depths. Dr. Saracen represented to him that the enterprise would be difficult,
that it would bristle with dangers, that he knew not what minds might spring beneath his feet,
and that, in fact, it would resemble a descent into the lower regions. Herscholtz, such as he
had been described to him, was not a man to disappear with impunity to others, or to bury himself
alone beneath the ruins of all his hopes. They had every reason to fear the last desperate design of such a man.
It would be like the terrible dying agony of a shark. My dear doctor, it is just because I think
all you imagine possible that I believe it might duty to go to Stostot, answered Max, the place may be
compared to a shell, from which I must snatch the match before it bursts, and I will even ask your
permission to take Otto with me.
Otto! exclaimed the doctor.
Yes, he is now a fine fellow, who may be relied on, and I assure you that this excursion
will do him a great deal of good. May God protect you both! returned to the old man,
fervently grasping his hand. The next morning a carriage drove the
through the deserted villages, and deposited Max and Otto at the gate of Stalstadt. Both were well-equipped,
well-armed, and very determined not to come back until they had cleared up the mystery. They walked
side by side along the outer road, which led round the fortifications, and the truth which Max till then
had persisted in doubting, now lay before them. It was evident that the place was completely deserted.
From the lonely road, which he now trod with Otto, he could formerly have seen within the town
flaring gas, or the flash of a sentinel's bayonet, and many other signs of life. The windows of
the different sections would have been illuminated and dazzling. Now all was gloomy and silent.
Death seemed to hover over the city, its tall chimneys standing up like skeletons.
The footfalls of Max and his companion alone aroused the echoes of the place.
The sensation of solitude and desolation was so strong that Otto could not help remarking.
It is singular, but I have never felt silence similar to this.
we might suppose ourselves in a cemetery. It was seven o'clock when Max and Otto reached the edge of the moat,
opposite to the principal gate of Stalstadt. Not a living creature appeared on the crest of the wall,
and of the sentinels who formerly had stood at equal distances all round, like so many human posts,
not one remained. The drawbridge was raised, leaving before the gate a gulf from five,
to six yards in width. It took them more than an hour before they could succeed in fastening the
end of a stout rope by throwing it with all their might so as to catch over one of the beams.
After much trouble, Max managed it, and Otto, going first, drew himself up, hand over hand,
to the top of the gate. Max passed up to him their arms and ammunition, and then he himself took the
same way. They now carried their rope to the other side of the wall, let down all their impediments,
and finally slid down themselves. The two young men were now on the round way, which Max
remembered having followed the first day he entered Stolstadt. Complete silence and solitude were all
around. Before them rose black and dumb, the imposing mass of buildings, which glared
with their thousand glass windows at the intruders, as if to say,
Be off, you have no business to attempt the penetration of our secrets.
Max and Audio consulted.
We will assail the O gate, as that is the one with which I am best acquainted, said Max.
They bent their steps westward, and soon arrived before the monumental arch, which bore on its front the letter O.
The two massive oaken doors, full of great iron nails, were closed.
Max approached and struck them several times, with a large stone taken from the road.
The echo alone resounded.
Come to work, he cried to Otto.
They had now to recommence the troublesome work of throwing their rope over the door
until it met with some obstacle on which it would firmly catch.
This was difficult, but they succeeded at last, and Max and Otto surmounted the wall, and found themselves in Section O.
What a nuisance! exclaimed Otto, looking round. Where's the use of all our trouble? We have made but little progress. No sooner have we got over one wall than we find another before us.
Silence in the ranks, returned Max.
Here we are in my old workshop. I am not sorry to see it again, that we may possess ourselves
of certain tools which we shall be sure to need, not forgetting a few packets of dynamite.
As he spoke, they entered the great casting hall, to which the young Alsatian had been admitted
on his arrival at the factory. How dismal it now looked, with its furnaces extinguished,
its rails rusted, its dusty cranes extending their gaunt arms in the air like so many gallows.
All this struck a chill to the heart, and Max felt that some diversion to their ideas would be pleasant.
Here's a workshop which will interest you more, he observed, leading the way to the canteen.
Otto followed obediently, and showed unmistakable signs of satisfaction as he caught sight of a whole regiment,
of red, yellow, and green bottles, drawn up in order of battle on a wooden shelf.
Several boxes of preserved meats and other good things were also there, more than enough to furnish
them with a substantial breakfast, the want of which they began to feel, so having spread the food
on the counter, the two young men fell to. Whilst eating, Max considered what was next to be done.
There was no use in even thinking of scaling the wall of the central block, as it was prodigiously high, isolated from all the other buildings, and without a projection on which to fasten a rope.
To find the door, of which there was probably only one, it would be necessary to go through all the sections, anything but an easy task.
Dynamite could be used, though that was dangerous, for it seemed impossible.
that Herr Schultz should have disappeared without constructing traps in his deserted territory,
or establishing countermines to the mines which those who wished to take possession of Stolstadt
would not fail to form. But no fear of this could deter Max. Seeing that Otto was now refreshed and
rested, Max went with him to the end of the road, which formed the axis of the section, up to the
foot of the huge freestone wall. What say you to attempting a blast here? He asked,
shall we pierce the wall and lay a train of dynamite? He'll be hard work, but we are not afraid of
that, replied Otto, ready to attempt anything. They first had to lay bare the foot of the wall,
then introduce a lever between two stones, loosen one, and finally with a double. With a
drill, pierce several little parallel trenches. By 10 o'clock, all was prepared, the dynamite in
its place, and the match lighted. Max knew that it would burn for five minutes, and as he had noticed
that the canteen was underground, and was a regular stone-vaulted cellar, he took refuge there
with Otto. Suddenly, every building and even the cellar were shaken as if by a
earthquake. Then almost immediately, a tremendous roar, resembling the sound of three or four
batteries thundering at once, rent the air. In two or three seconds, a perfect avalanche of
stones and debris showered down far and wide. Then began an uproar of breaking roofs, crashing beams,
falling walls mingled with the sound of a cascade of broken glass.
When the frightful din had ceased, Max and Otto ventured forth from their retreat.
Accustomed as he was to the terrific effects of an explosion, Max was perfectly astonished
at the results of this one, half of the section had been blown up,
and the dismantled walls of all the neighboring workshops resembled those of a bombarding,
town. On all sides the ground was strewn with heaps of rubbish and pieces of glass and plaster,
whilst clouds of dust settling down fell like snow on the ruins. Otto and Max hastened to the inner wall.
From 15 to 20 feet of it had been thrown down, and on the other side of the breach, the ex-draftsman
of the central block could see the well-known hall where he had passed so far. So,
many monotonous hours. As the place was no longer guarded, it was soon entered. Still,
the same silence everywhere. Max passed in review the studios, where formerly his comrades admired
his diagrams. In one corner, he discovered the very half-sketched drawing of a steam engine
on which he had been engaged when Herr Schultz summoned him to the park. In the reading room lay the papers,
and familiar books. Everything bore the look of business suspended, of a sudden interruption to work.
The two friends had now reached the inner limits of the central block, and stood before the wall,
which Max believed divided them from the park. Are we to make this fellow dance, too? asked Otto.
Perhaps, but first we can look for a door, which a simple fuzzi could send flying. They proceeded,
therefore, to skirt the wall around the park from time to time, making a detour to avoid a building
jutting out like a spur, or to climb a fence, but they never lost sight of it, and were soon
rewarded for their trouble by coming to a low, narrow door. In two minutes, Otto had bored a
gimlet hole through the oaken panels, and Max, applying his eye to the opening, perceived with lively
satisfaction that on the other side lay the tropical park with its eternal verdure and summer temperature.
One more door to blow up, and we shall be in the place, he exclaimed to his companion.
A fuzzie for a piece of wood like this would be too great an honor, returned Otto, and as he spoke,
he struck a heavy blow on the pastern with an axe he carried. It had not begun to give away,
when they heard a key turned, and two bolts slipped back. The door half opened, though held inside
by a thick chain, Verda, who goes there, demanded a hoarse voice.
End of Section 16. Section 17 of the Begum's Fortune by Jules Verne, translated by W.H.G. Kingston.
Vox recordings in the public domain. Chapter 17. Parlay before the Citadel.
The two young men were little prepared for such a question. It astonished them more than if they
had been met by a rifle shot. Max had had a great many conjectures about this mysterious town,
and the very last thing he had expected was that a living being would quietly demand the reason of his
visit, his enterprise, legitimate enough, under the supposition that Stalstadt was completely deserted,
assumed quite another aspect when the city was found still to be inhabited. That which in the one case
was but a kind of archaeological inquiry, in the other, became an attack by force of arms,
and bore the character of a burglary. These reflections,
rushed in upon the mind of Max, with such force that he stood as if struck dumb.
Who goes there? repeated the voice impatiently. There was certainly some reason for impatience,
for intruders to have reached this door by overcoming so many obstacles, scaling walls,
and blowing up half the town, and then to have nothing to say on being simply asked,
who goes there, was somewhat astonishing.
In half a minute, Max became aware of the awkwardness of his position,
and he replied in German,
friend or enemy, whichever you like,
I wish to speak to Herr Schultz.
Directly he uttered these words.
An exclamation was heard from the other side of the door,
Auk!
And through the opening,
Max could discern a red whisker,
half a bristly mustache, and a dull eye, which he immediately recognized as belonging to Sigmar,
one of the uncouth beings who had been ordered by Schultz to guard him.
"'Johann Schwartz!' exclaimed the giant, with a sort of stupid joy.
"'Johan Schwartz!'
The unexpected return of his prisoner seemed to astonish him as much as his misdemean
mysterious disappearance must have done.
Can I speak to Herr Schultz?
repeated Max, finding that this exclamation was the only answer he received.
Sigmar shook his head.
No order, he said.
Can't come in here without an order.
At least you can tell Herr Schultz that I am here and want to see him.
Herr Schultz not here.
Herschultz gone, replied.
the giant, with a shade of sadness in his tone. But where is he? When will he be back?
Don't know. Instructions remain as before. No one enter without an order. These disjointed sentences
were all that Max could get from Sigmar, who, to any other questions, maintained a dogged and
obstinate silence. Otto at last became impatient.
Where's the use of asking permission to enter? said he,
It is much easier to take it, and he shoved against the door to try and force it open.
It was held by the chain, however, and a more powerful arm than his soon shut it, and rapidly drew the bolts.
There must be several men behind there, cried Otto, rather humiliated at this result.
He applied his eye to the gimlet hole and uttered a cry of surprise.
There's a second giant!
Arminius, no doubt, returned Max in his turn, putting his eye to the hole.
Yes, it is Arminius, Sigmer's companion.
As he spoke, another voice, apparently from the sky, caused Max to raise his head.
Verda?
It said.
This time it was Arminius.
who spoke, looking over the top of the wall, which he had reached by means of a ladder.
Come, you know well enough who it is, Arminius, returned Max. Will you open?
Yes or no? These words had scarcely left his lips when the muzzle of a gun was pointed
over the wall, and a bullet just grazed the brim of Otto's hat. Very well. Here's an answer
for that, exclaimed Max, who, placing some dynamite under the door, blew it into fragments.
A breach being thus made, Otto and Max their guns in their hands and their knives between their teeth
sprang into the park. The latter still leaned against the now tottering wall, and at its foot
were traces of blood, but neither Arminius nor Zygamer were there to bar the progress
of the adventurers. The gardens lay before them in all the richness of their vegetation.
Otto was delighted. What a magnificent place, he said. But look out. We had better proceed like
sharpshooters. These sourcrowd-eaters are most likely watching for us, hiding behind the bushes.
Max and Otto separated, and each taking one side of the walk, which opened before them, they advanced
cautiously from tree to tree, from mound to mound, after the most approved principles of
strategy. This was a wise precaution. They had not gone a hundred yards when a second shot was heard,
and the bark of the tree Max had just quitted, flew in splinters. This is serious. Down on the ground,
ejaculated Otto. And adding example to precept, he crawled on hands and knees up to
a thorny thicket, bordering the square, in the center of which rose the bull tower.
Max, not following this advice quickly enough, narrowly escaped another bullet, and only avoided
a fourth by darting behind the trunk of a palm tree.
Fortunately, these fellows shoot no better than raw recruits, called out Otto to his friend.
Hush! returned Max. Don't you see the smoke hanging about that window?
on the ground floor? The villains are an ambush there, but I mean to play them a trick in my turn.
In a trice, Max had cut a good size to stick from the shrubbery, on which he hung his coat,
placing his hat on the top, having thus improvised a very presentable dummy, he stuck it in the
ground so that the hat and sleeves alone were visible. Then, gliding up to Otto, he whispered in
his ear. Just keep them amused by firing at the window, first from your place, and then from mine,
I'm off to take them in the rear. And Max, leaving Otto to skirmish, crept cautiously away through the bushes.
A quarter of an hour passed, whilst about twenty shots were exchanged without result on either side,
though Max's coat and hat were completely riddled with bullets. As to the window blind,
Otto's gun had sent them into shivers.
Suddenly the firing ceased, and Otto distinctly heard a stifled cry of,
Help! Help! I've got him!
To leave his shelter, fly through the shrubbery, and spring in at the window,
took Otto but a moment.
Struggling desperately on the floor, entwined like two serpents,
were Max and Sigmar, surprised.
by the sudden attack of his adversary, who had forced an inner door, the giant had been unable to use
his weapons. But his Herculean strength rendered him a formidable enemy, and although thrown to the
ground, he had not lost hope of gaining the upper hand. Max, on his side, displayed remarkable vigor
and agility. The fight would certainly have terminated in the death of one of the combatants, had not
Otto's intervention made a less tragic end possible. The two together soon disarmed
Sigmar and bound him so that he could move neither hand nor foot. Where's the other fellow?
asked Otto. Max pointed to the further end of the room where Arminius lay bleeding on a bench.
Has he been shot? He asked. Yes, replied Otto. Together they examined the body.
"'Quite dead,' said Max.
"'If so, the rascal might have died in a better cause,' exclaimed Otto.
"'Here we are, masters of the place,' said Max.
"'So now to serious business.
Let us first explore the study of the great airshoulds.
From the room in which the last act of the siege had been performed,
the two young men proceeded through the suite of apartments,
which led to the sanctum of the King of Steel.
Otto was lost in admiration at the sight of such splendor.
Max smiled as he looked round at him
and opened one after the other at the doors of the magnificent rooms
till they reached the green and gold apartment.
He had expected to find something new,
but nothing so strange as the spectacle
which here lay before their eyes.
It looked just as if the general
post office of New York or Paris had been robbed, and its contents thrown pell-mell on the floor.
On every side were heaps of letters and sealed packets.
On the writing table, on the chairs, on the carpet, they waded knee-deep in a flood of papers.
All the financial, industrial, and personal correspondence of Herr Schultz brought to the letterbox in the
park wall, and faithfully carried in by Arminius and Sigmar, had been accumulated in their master's
study. How many questions, what expectations, what anxious suspense, what misery and tears were
enclosed in those voiceless envelopes addressed to Herr Schultz, what millions of money, too,
no doubt, in paper, checks, bills, and orders of all sorts. Everything rested here.
motionless through the absence of the only hand which had a right to break these fragile but inviolable seals we have now said max to discover the secret door of the laboratory he began by taking all the books out of the bookcase this was useless he could not find the masked passage he had traversed in company with hair shultz in vain he shook the panels one by one and with
an iron rod, which he took from the mantelpiece, tapped them in succession. In vain he struck the
wall in the hope of hearing it give forth a hollow sound. It was very evident that Schultz, uneasy
yet no longer being the sole possessor of his secret, had done away with that door. He must,
necessarily, have opened another. But where? asked Max. It must be here somewhere, as our
Arminius and Sigimer have brought the letters to this room, which Herrischoltz, doubtless, continued
to use after my departure. I know enough of his habits to be sure that, after bricking up the old
passage, he would wish to have another close at hand, and concealed from inquisitive eyes. Can there be a trap
door under the carpet? The carpet itself showed no signs of a cut, but nonetheless was it unnailed
and raised. The floor, examined bit by bit, showed nothing suspicious.
How do you know the opening is in this room at all? asked Otto.
I am morally certain of it, answered Max. Then the ceiling only remains to be explored,
returned Otto, springing onto a chair. His idea was to get up to the luster,
and sound the central rose with the butt end of his side.
gun. However, no sooner had he grasped the gilded chandelier than, to his extreme surprise, it sunk under his
hand. The ceiling opened and left to view a wide gap from which a light, self-acting steel ladder
slid down, level with the floor. It was a distinct invitation to ascend. Here we are. Come along. Come along.
said Max, composedly, and immediately began to mount the ladder, closely followed by his friend.
End of Section 17.
Section 18 of the Begum's Fortune by Jules Fern, translated by W.H.G. Kingston.
This Lipervox recording is in the public domain.
Chapter 18. The Colonel of the Nut.
The top of the steel ladder was fixed close to the wall of a vast circular chamber,
there being no communication with the exterior.
It would have been in complete darkness, had it not been for a dazzling white light,
which streamed through the thick glass of a bull's eye, fixed in the center of the oak floor.
For purity and brilliancy, it might be compared to the moon, when she had.
is in her full beauty. Perfect silence reigned within these mute and eyeless walls. The two men
imagined themselves in the antechamber of a tomb. But before bending over the glass, Max hesitated
for a moment, he had attained his object, the secret to penetrate which he had come to
Stalstadt was about to be revealed to him.
This feeling, however, soon passed off. Together, he and Otto knelt beside the disc and looked it down into the chamber beneath.
A horrible and unexpected sight met their astonished gaze. The glass disc being convex on both sides formed a lens which immensely increased in size, all objects seen through it.
here was the secret laboratory of Herr Schultz, the intense glare which shone through the disc,
as if from the lantern of a lighthouse, came from a double electric lamp, still burning in its airless
bell, being incessantly fed by a powerful voltaic pile.
In the middle of the room, motionless as marble, and enormously magnified by the refraction of
the lens, a human form was seated. Pieces and splinters of shells were strewn on the ground
around this specter. There was no doubt about it. It was Herr Schultz himself,
recognizable by his horrid, grinning mouth and his gleaming teeth, but a gigantic
hair Schultz, suffocated and frozen by the action of a terrible cold, caused by the explosion
of one of his frightful engines of warfare. The King of Steel was seated at his table,
holding an enormous pen like a lance in his hand, as if he were writing. Had it not been for the stony
glare of his dilated eyeballs and his set mouth, he would have appeared still living. Here this awful
corpse had been for a month, hidden from all eyes.
eyes, and now discovered like a mammoth, which has been concealed for ages in the glaciers of the
polar regions. Everything around him was frozen, the reagents in their jars, the water in its receivers,
and the mercury in its reservoirs. In spite of the horror of this spectacle, Max's first thought
was one of satisfaction that they had been fortunate enough to be able to observe the interior of the
laboratory from the outside, for if he and Otto had entered, they must infallibly have been struck
dead. Max soon guessed how the fearful accident had occurred when he marked that the fragments
scattered on the ground were small pieces of glass. He knew that the inner case of Herr Schultz's
suffocating projectiles contained liquid carbonic acid, and that to resist the
enormous pressure, it was formed of tempered glass, which has ten or twelve times the ordinary
strength. The great fault of this newly invented production, however, is that by some mysterious
action, it often suddenly bursts without any apparent reason. This was evidently what had happened.
Perhaps the interior pressure had helped to provoke the explosion of the shell deposited in the
laboratory. At any rate, the discharged acid on returning to a gaseous state had occasioned a
fearful lowering of the surrounding atmosphere, even to a hundred degrees below zero. The effects had
indeed been something awful. Death had surprised Herr Schultz, in the attitude he was in at the time
of the explosion, and in a moment he was turned into ice. One circumstance of he was,
which Max particularly noticed, was that at the time of his death, the King of Steel was engaged in
writing. What was inscribed on the sheet of paper lying beneath that lifeless hand? It would be
interesting to know the last thought and read the words of such a man. The difficulty was to
procure the paper, the idea of breaking the disc so as to descend.
into the laboratory could not be entertained for an instant, the gas would have immediately rushed
out and suffocated every living being. The risk of bringing a sudden death upon themselves
could not be run merely for the sake of satisfying their curiosity. Max, therefore, seeing that the
writing as well as everything else, was so wonderfully magnified and brilliantly illuminated,
endeavored to read it from a distance. Being well acquainted with the handwriting of Herr Schultz,
with a little trouble he at last made out the following lines. According to the usual custom of Herr Schultz,
it was rather an order than an instruction. Order to BKR Z to advance the projected expedition
against Frankville by a fortnight. As soon as this order is received, execute the measure,
I have devised, they must this time be overwhelming and complete. Do not alter an iota
of what I have decided upon. I wish that in a fortnight, Frankville, should become a city of the
dead without a surviving inhabitant. I hope for a modern Pompeii to be at once a terror
and an astonishment to the whole world.
If my orders are properly executed, this result will be inevitable.
You will send the bodies of Dr. Saracen and Max Brookman to me.
I wish to have them.
The signature was unfinished, the final Z, and the usual flourish being wanting.
Max and Otto gazed, mute and motionless,
at this strange spectacle, feeling as if they were witnessing the invocation of some malignant genius.
But it was time to leave the dismal scene, and the two friends, agitated by conflicting feelings,
descended from the room above the laboratory. There, in that dark tomb, for when the electric current
failed, the lamp would be extinguished. The corpse of the king of steel,
would remain alone, dried up like a mummy pharaoh, whom twenty centuries had not reduced to dust.
An hour later, having unbound Sigmar, who seemed puzzled to know what to do with his liberty,
Otto and Max quitted Stalstadt, and took their way back to Frankville, which they entered the same evening.
Dr. Saracen was busy in his study when the return of the two young men.
man was announced to him. Tell them to come in, he exclaimed. Come in quickly.
Well, said he, as soon as the friends presented themselves before him.
Doctor, replied Max, the news we bring from Stolstadt will put your mind at rest for a long time.
Harris Schultz is no more. Herr Schultz is dead. Dead! exclaimed Dr. Saracen.
The good man remained thoughtful for a few moments without uttering another word.
My dear fellow, he said at last, can you understand that this news would ought to make me rejoice, since it takes from us the dread of the thing I most execrate, war, and the most unjust, unreasonable war ever heard of?
Can you understand, against all reason?
It makes my heartache.
Oh, why should a man of such powerful intelligence have constituted himself our enemy?
Why did he not use his rare intellectual qualities for the benefit of his fellow creatures?
How much wisdom has been lost, which would have been so valuable had it been associated with us and used for a common object.
Oh, this at once struck me when you said,
Herr Schultz is dead, but now tell me all that you know of this unexpected event.
Herr Schultz, replied Max, has met his death in the mysterious laboratory, which, with such
diabolical ingenuity, he has driven to render inaccessible to all others.
No one but himself ever knew of its existence, and no one consequently could penetrate into it
to bring him help. He has fallen of victim to that marvelous concentration of all his plans in his own
hands on which he had so erroneously relied. By the will of providence, his desire of being himself
the key to all his projects, has turned to his own destruction. It could not have been otherwise,
answered Dr. Saracen. Herr Schultz started with a totally wrong notion, for indeed.
is not the best government, the one of which the chief, on his death, can be most easily replaced,
and which will continue to work smoothly, just because all the machinery is open and visible.
You will see, Doctor, said Max, how all that has happened in Stolstadt bears out what you have said.
We found Herschelts, seated before his desk, that central point once came all those
orders so implicitly obeyed by the Steel City and which no one ever dreamt of disputing.
Death had left him every appearance of life, so that for a moment I thought the specter would
have spoken to us. But the inventor has fallen by his own invention. He was killed by one of the
shells, with which he hoped to destroy our town, just as he was signing his name to the order for
our extermination. Listen! And Max read aloud a copy he had taken of the horrible words
written by Herr Schultz. Then he added, The greatest proof of the death of Herr Schultz,
even if we had not seen him, is that everything around him has ceased to live. There is nothing
breathing in Stolstadt. As in the palace of the sleeping beauty, slumber has suspended all life,
arrested every movement. The effects of the master's death have extended not only to the servants,
but also to the machinery. Yes, returned Dr. Saracen, we see in this the justice of God,
from indulging in his hatred against us, and urging on his attack with such boundless rancor,
Herr Schultz has perished. That is true, answered Matt.
But now, Doctor, let us leave the past and think only of the present. Although the death of Herr Schultz gives peace to us, it causes the ruin of the wonderful business he created, blinded by his success, and his hatred of France and you, he had supplied large numbers of cannon and weapons to anyone who might be our enemy without getting sufficient guarantees. In spite of this, and although the payment of all his
deaths would take a long time, I believe that a strong hand could set Storstott on its legs again,
and turn to a good purpose all that has been hitherto used for an evil one.
Herr Schultz has only one likely heir doctor, and that is you. His work must not be allowed
to fall to the ground entirely. It is too much the belief of this world that the only profit
to be drawn from a rival force is in its total annihilation. This is not really the case,
and I hope you will agree with me that, on the contrary, it is our duty to endeavor to save
from this immense wreck, all that can be used for the benefit of humanity. Now, I am ready to
devote myself entirely to this task. Max is right, said Otto, grasping his friend's hand,
and here I am, ready also to work under his orders, if my father will give his consent.
I certainly approve, my dear lads, replied Dr. Saracen.
Yes, Max, there will be no want of capital, and thanks to you, I shall hope to have in the
resuscitated Stolstadt, such an arsenal that no one in the world will ever henceforth
dream of attacking us. And as we shall then be the strongest, we must at the same time
endeavour to be also the most just. We must spread the benefits of peace and justice all around.
Oh, Max, what enchanting dreams! And when I feel that with you to help me, I can at least
accomplish a part, I ask myself why, yes, why, have I not two sons? Why, I have I not two sons? Why, I
are you not the brother of Otto? We three working together. It seems as if nothing could be impossible.
End of Section 18. Section 19 of the Begum's Fortune by Jules Verne, translated by W.H.G. Kingston.
This Lipervox recording is in the public domain.
Chapter 19 A Family Affair
Perhaps in the course of this voracious narrative,
we have not been sufficiently communicative about the personal history of those who have played
such prominent parts in it. We may now, therefore, be allowed to stop in order to give a few
details regarding them. It must be acknowledged that the good doctor was not so entirely taken up
with the idea of collective humanity as to merge in it the welfare of individuals. He had therefore been
struck by the sudden pallor, which overspread the countenance of Max, as he uttered his last words.
He sought to read in the young man's eyes the cause of this sudden emotion.
The silence of the older man seemed to question the engineer, as if he expected him to speak,
but Max, mastering himself with a strong effort, immediately resumed his composure.
His complexion re-assumed its natural tint, and his attitude was merely that,
of a man who expects the continuance of an interesting conversation.
Dr. Saracen, slightly provoked at this evidently assumed calmness,
approached his young friend, and with a familiar gesture, laid his hand upon his wrist,
just as he would on that of a patient whose pulse he wished quietly, unobtrusively, to feel.
Max allowed this naturally without apparently noticing the doctor's intentions,
and as he did not open his lips.
My dear Max, observed the old man,
we will put off our conversation
about the future destiny of Stostadt to some other time,
for although we are vowed to the work of laboring
to ameliorate the condition of mankind,
it is not forbidden us also to occupy ourselves
with the fate of those we love,
of those who are nearest to us.
Well, I think the time has come to tell you what a young lady, whose name I will mention presently, replied not long ago to her father and mother, when for the twentieth time that year they had been asked for her in marriage. The proposals were for the most part such that even the most fastidious could have had no reason for refusing them, and yet this young woman always said no. At this point,
Max drew his hand away, with a sudden movement from the doctor's grasp, and the latter,
as if he was satisfied on the subject of his patient's health, and had not noticed that both his
arm and his confidence had been withdrawn. Quietly continued his story.
Well, now, said the mother to the young lady of whom I speak, just tell me the reason of these
continued refusals. Education, fortune, position, good looks. All are
there, why this decided no, so resolute and prompt, to request which you don't even take the trouble
to consider a little. You are not usually so very peremptory. At this, the girl determined to speak
clearly and frankly, and thereupon replied, I say no with as much sincerity as I would say yes,
dear mother, if the yes came really from my heart. I agree with you that several of the match
you have proposed to me are perfectly unexceptionable, but besides my belief that most of those
addresses were paid more to what is considered the best, that is, the richest match in the town,
than to me, myself, and that that idea does not incline me to say yes. I will venture to tell you,
since you wish it, that none of these proposals is the one I hope for, the one that I still expect,
and which, unfortunately, I may have to wait a long time for, if it ever comes at all.
What, my dear, said the mother, in surprise you—
She did not end that sentence for want of knowing how to finish it,
and in perplexity turned to her husband, with looks which plainly begged for help and advice.
However, as he did not intend to interfere in the discussion between the mother and daughter,
until a little more light had been thrown on the subject.
He put on an obtuse air,
and counterfeited so well that the poor girl,
blushing with embarrassment,
and perhaps a little anger,
suddenly determined to make a clean breast of it.
I said, dear mother, she continued,
that the proposal I hoped for might be a very long time in coming,
and might possibly never come at all.
I add that this delay, although so indefinite,
will neither hurt nor astonish me. I have the misfortune to be very rich. He, whose proposal I hope
for, is very poor. Therefore, he will not make it, and he is right. It is for him to wait.
Why not for us to speak, said the mother, wishing perhaps to prevent her daughter from uttering
words she feared to hear. Then the husband interposed, my dear, he said affectionately, taking his
wife's hands in his. It is not with impunity that a mother, reverenced by her daughter as you are,
can constantly in her presence, sing the praises of a fine, handsome fellow, who, ever since she was born,
has been almost one of the family, that she remarks to everyone on the solidity of his character,
that she glories in what her husband says when he has occasion in his turn to boast of his
remarkable intelligence, or speaks feelingly of the thousand proofs of devotion, he has received from
him. If the girl who saw this young man, distinguished both by her father and her mother,
had not admired him herself, she would have failed in her duty.
Oh, father, cried the girl, throwing herself into her mother's arms to hide her confusion.
If you guessed, why did you make me speak? Why, returned the father. Why? Why? returned the father. Why?
but to have the joy of hearing you, my darling, that I might be still more certain that I was
not mistaken, to be able at last to tell you that both your mother and I approve your choice,
that your heart has been given where we wished, and to spare a poor and proud man from making
a proposal at which he feels a reluctant delicacy, I will do it myself. Yes, I will do it,
because I have read his heart as I have read yours.
calm yourself then, on the first favorable opportunity, I will ask Max if by any possibility
he would care to become my son-in-law.
Taken unawares by this sudden peroration, Max had started to his feet as if moved by a spring,
Otto silently grasped his hand, while Dr. Saracen held out his arms. The young Alsatian was
pale as death, but does not happiness sometimes take this appearance when it enters without warning
into a strong heart? End of Section 19. Section 19 of the Begum's Fortune by Jules Verne,
translated by W. H. G. Kingston. This Librevox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 20. Conclusion.
released from all anxiety, in peace with its neighbors, well-governed, happy, thanks to the good
behavior of its inhabitants, is highly prosperous. Its success is so justly merited that it causes no
envy, and its strength enforces the respect even of the most warlike. Under the iron rule of
Herr Schultz, the city of steel was a terrible manufacturing, an organized source of
destruction, but, thanks to Max Brookman, the liquidation of its deaths was effected without loss to
anyone, and Stolstadt became a center of production, unsurpassed by any other industry. A year ago, Max
became the happy husband of Jeanette, and the birth of a child has recently added to their
felicity. As to Otto, he worked gallantly under his brother-in-law's directions, and seconded
all his efforts. His sister is hoping soon to see him married to a friend of hers,
whose good sense will preserve her husband from any relapse. The wishes of the doctor and his wife
are thus fulfilled, and to put it in a few words, they are at the zenith of happiness and even of
glory, if glory ever entered into the program of their honest ambitions. We may now be assured that the future
belongs to the efforts of Dr. Saracen and Max Brookman, and that the example of Frankville and Stolstadt,
as model city and manufacturing, will not be lost upon future generations.
End of Section 20. End of the Begham's Fortune by Jules Verne.
