No! No letters from the Antilles, none! Was it not time to send a second cable to Mrs. Seymour in order to be sure that the first one had arrived at her address, and to suggest that she telegraph her answer?
And so, inside those vivid imaginations sprung a thousand fears explaining this inexplicable delay. Had bad weather stranded the ship that carries the mail between the Antilles and England? Had it sunk following a collision? Had it crashed into some unknown reef? Had Barbados disappeared in one of those earthquakes that are so horrible in the West Indies? Had the generous lady perished in one of these cataclysms? Had France, Holland, Denmark, Sweden, or the United Kingdom just lost the most important assets of their colonial empires in the New World?
“No, no,” repeated Mr. Ardagh, “such a catastrophe would be known! All the details would have appeared in the newspapers!”
“Hey!” answered Tony Renault. “If the transatlantic ships carried pigeons, we would always know if they are on the right course!”
Very true, but such “colombogrammes” were not yet in service at that time, which the boarders of the Antillean School regretted.
Nonetheless, this state of affairs could not last long. The teachers were not succeeding in calming their troubled minds. No student worked anymore in class or in the study halls. Not only the contest laureates, but also their classmates—all the students—were thinking about everything other than their studies.
Pure exaggeration, of course. As for Mr. Ardagh, he felt no worry. Was it not perfectly natural that Mrs. Seymour had not responded by a telegram, which would not have been explicit enough? Only a letter, and a detailed letter at that, could contain the instructions they would have to follow; make known what this trip would be, under what conditions it would be carried out, at what time it would take place, how long it would last, how the expenses would be paid, and what would be the amount of the scholarships made available to the nine winners. These explanations, at the very least, demanded two or three pages and could not be formulated in that negro-grammatical language that the blacks in the Indian colonies still speak.21
But all these observations had no effect on them, and their concerns would not subside. And then, the students who did not earn high rankings in the competition, jealous of their classmates’ success, began to mock them, to “scoff” at them,22 to use an expression that will soon appear as an acceptable word in the dictionary of the French Academy. It had all been a big joke … There was not a penny or a farthing for those so-called travel scholarships. That Maecenas23 in skirts whose name was Mrs. Seymour did not even exist! The contest had only been one of those “humbugs”24 imported from America, that land where most of them originate!
Finally, Mr. Ardagh agreed to this plan: he would await the arrival in Liverpool of the next ship that brought the mail from the Antilles, scheduled for the twenty-third of this month. That day, if there was not a letter from Mrs. Seymour addressed to him, he would send her a second cablegram.
It was not necessary. On the twenty-third, in the afternoon mail, came a letter stamped from Barbados. This letter was in Mrs. Seymour’s handwriting and, according to the lady’s wishes—and what everyone wanted to know—the scholarships were to be used for a trip to the Antilles.
2 Mrs. Seymour’s Ideas
A voyage to diverse islands in the West Indies is what Mrs. Seymour’s generosity had reserved for them! Indeed, it seemed that the laureates had every reason to be pleased.
Of course they would have to give up any ideas of faraway explorations through Africa, Asia, Oceania, or lesser-known regions of the new continents, as well as to the South or North Poles!
Nevertheless, even if at the beginning there was a slight feeling of disappointment in having to come back from their world of dreams faster than they had departed, if it was nothing more than a trip to the Antilles, it was nonetheless a pleasant way to spend their next vacation, and Mr. Ardagh made the laureates clearly understand all its advantages.
In reality, were these Antilles not, after all, their native land? Most of them had left when they were still infants in order to come to Europe to do their studies. They had barely trod upon the soil of those islands that had witnessed their birth, barely preserved any memory of them!
Even though—with one exception—their families had left the archipelago behind with no thoughts of returning, there were some students who would still find some family or friends there. Everything considered, for the young Antilleans this would be a fine voyage.
The extent of this can be judged according to the personal situation of each of the nine laureates to whom the travel scholarships were attributed.
First, those who were English, and in larger numbers at the Antillean School:
Roger Hinsdale, from Saint Lucia, twenty years old, whose family, retired from their business with great wealth, lived in London;
John Howard, from Dominica, eighteen years old, whose parents had come to settle in Manchester as industrialists;
Hubert Perkins, from Antigua, seventeen years old, whose family, composed of father, mother, and two young sisters, had never left their native island and who, once his education was finished, was supposed to return there to join a commercial firm.
Next are the French, who numbered about a dozen at the Antillean School:
Louis Clodion, from Guadeloupe, twenty years old, part of a family of ship merchants who settled in Nantes many years ago;
Tony Renault, from Martinique, seventeen years old, the oldest of four children, related to a family of government officials who worked in Paris.
Now the Danes’ turn:
Niels Harboe, from Saint Thomas, nineteen years old, having neither father nor mother, and whose brother, older than him by six years, was still in the Antilles;
Axel Wickborn, from Saint Croix, nineteen years old, whose family was in the wood business in Denmark, in Copenhagen.
The Dutch were represented by Albertus Leuwen, from Saint Martin, twenty years old, an only child whose parents lived in the outskirts of Rotterdam.
As for Magnus Anders, Swedish, born in Saint Barthélemy, nineteen years old, his family had come recently to settle in Gotteborg, Sweden, and had not yet given up the idea of going back there once their fortune was made.
In truth, this voyage that would bring them back for a few weeks to their country of origin was the perfect choice for those young Antilleans. Who knows if the majority of them would have ever had the opportunity to see the islands again? Only Louis Clodion had an uncle, his mother’s brother, in Guadeloupe; Niels Harboe, a brother in Saint Thomas; and Hubert Perkins his whole family in Antigua. But their classmates no longer had any family ties in the other Antillean islands; their island homes had been abandoned without any intent of returning.
The oldest of the laureates were Roger Hinsdale, a bit haughty, Louis Clodion, a serious and hard-working boy and nice to everyone, and Albertus Leuwen, whose Dutch blood had not warmed up under the Antillean sun. After them came Niels Harboe, whose vocation had not yet revealed itself; Magnus Anders, very passionate about all things having to do with the sea, and who was preparing to enter into the mercantile navy; and Axel Wickborn, whose talents would lead him to serve in the Danish army. Then, listed by age, John Howard, a little less “Anglicized” than his compatriot Roger Hinsdale; and finally the two youngest ones, Hubert Perkins, destined for commerce, as has been said, and Tony Renault, whose fondness for rowing could very well develop into a fondness for a sailor’s life in the future.
Presently, there remained the rather important question of whether this voyage would include all the Antilles, Greater and Lesser, Windward and Leeward Islands. A complete exploration of the archipelago would have required more than the few weeks that the laureates had available. Indeed, there are no less than three hundred and fifty islands or islets in the West Indian archipelago, and even if it were