Godfrey Morgan: A Californian Mystery. Жюль Верн

      "And, to the professor of deportment who has initiated him into etiquette," interrupted the merchant, in a tone of which the guileless Tartlet failed to perceive the irony.

      And, in fact, thinking it the correct thing to execute an "assemblée," he first moved one foot and then the other, by a sort of semi-circular side slide, and then with a light and graceful bend of the knee, he bowed to William W. Kolderup.

      "I thought," continued the latter, "that you might feel a little regret at separating from your pupil?"

      "The regret will be extreme," answered Tartlet, "but should it be necessary—"

      "It is not necessary," answered William W. Kolderup, knitting his bushy eyebrows.

      "Ah!" replied Tartlet.

      Slightly troubled, he made a graceful movement to the rear, so as to pass from the third to the fourth position; but he left the breadth of a foot between his feet, without perhaps being conscious of what he was doing.

      "Yes!" added the merchant in a peremptory tone, which admitted not of the ghost of a reply; "I have thought it would really be cruel to separate a professor and a pupil so well made to understand each other!"

      "Assuredly!—the journey?" answered Tartlet, who did not seem to want to understand.

      "Yes! Assuredly!" replied William W. Kolderup; "not only will his travels bring out the talents of my nephew, but the talents of the professor to whom he owes so correct a bearing."

      Never had the thought occurred to this great baby that one day he would leave San Francisco, California, America, to roam the seas. Such an idea had never entered the brain of a man more absorbed in choregraphy than geography, and who was still ignorant of the suburbs of the capital beyond ten miles radius. And now this was offered to him. He was to understand that nolens volens he was to expatriate himself, he himself was to experience with all their costs and inconveniences the very adventures he had recommended to his pupil! Here, decidedly, was something to trouble a brain much more solid than his, and the unfortunate Tartlet for the first time in his life felt an involuntary yielding in the muscles of his limbs, suppled as they were by thirty-five years' exercise.

      "Perhaps," said he, trying to recall to his lips the stereotyped smile of the dancer which had left him for an instant—"perhaps—am I not—"

      "You will go!" answered William W. Kolderup like a a man with whom discussion was useless.

      To refuse was impossible. Tartlet did not even think of such a thing. What was he in the house? A thing, a parcel, a package to be sent to every corner of the world. But the projected expedition troubled him not a little.

      "And when am I to start?" demanded he, trying to get back into an academical position.

      "In a month."

      "And on what raging ocean has Mr. Kolderup decided that his vessel should bear his nephew and me?"

      "The Pacific, at first."

      "And on what point of the terrestrial globe shall I first set foot?"

      "On the soil of New Zealand," answered William W. Kolderup; "I have remarked that the New Zealanders always stick their elbows out! Now you can teach them to turn them in!"

      And thus was Professor Tartlet selected as the travelling-companion of Godfrey Morgan.

      A nod from the merchant gave him to understand that the audience had terminated. He retired, considerably agitated, and the performance of the special graces which he usually displayed in this difficult act left a good deal to be desired. In fact, for the first time in his life, Professor Tartlet, forgetting in his preoccupation the most elementary principles of his art, went out with his toes turned in!