It is needless to say that these two men were devoted to their mission in the world--that they delighted to throw themselves in the track of the most unexpected intelligence--that nothing terrified or discouraged them from succeeding--that they possessed the imperturbable sang froid and the genuine intrepidity of men of their calling.
Enthusiastic jockeys in this steeplechase, this hunt after information, they leaped hedges, crossed rivers, sprang over fences, with the ardor of pure-blooded racers, who will run "a good first" or die!
Their journals did not restrict them with regard to money--the surest, the most rapid, the most perfect element of information known to this day. It must also be added, to their honor, that neither the one nor the other ever looked over or listened at the walls of private life, and that they only exercised their vocation when political or social interests were at stake.
In a word, they made what has been for some years called "the great political and military reports."It will be seen, in following them, that they had generally an independent mode of viewing events, and, above all, their consequences, each having his own way of observing and appreciating.
The French correspondent was named Alcide Jolivet. Harry Blount was the name of the Englishman. They had just met for the first time at this fete in the New Palace, of which they had been ordered to give an account in their papers. The dissimilarity of their characters, added to a certain amount of jealousy, which generally exists between rivals in the same calling, might have rendered them but little sympathetic. However, they did not avoid each other, but endeavored rather to exchange with each other the chat of the day.
They were sportsmen, after all, hunting on the same ground.
That which one missed might be advantageously secured by the other, and it was to their interest to meet and converse.
This evening they were both on the look out; they felt, in fact, that there was something in the air.
"Even should it be only a wildgoose chase," said Alcide Jolivet to himself, "it may be worth powder and shot."The two correspondents therefore began by cautiously sounding each other.
"Really, my dear sir, this little fete is charming!"said Alcide Jolivet pleasantly, thinking himself obliged to begin the conversation with this eminently French phrase.
"I have telegraphed already, 'splendid!'" replied Harry Blount calmly, employing the word specially devoted to expressing admiration by all subjects of the United Kingdom.
"Nevertheless," added Alcide Jolivet, "I felt compelled to remark to my cousin--""Your cousin?" repeated Harry Blount in a tone of surprise, interrupting his brother of the pen.
"Yes," returned Alcide Jolivet, "my cousin Madeleine. It is with her that I correspond, and she likes to be quickly and well informed, does my cousin. I therefore remarked to her that, during this fete, a sort of cloud had appeared to overshadow the sovereign's brow.""To me, it seemed radiant," replied Harry Blount, who perhaps, wished to conceal his real opinion on this topic.
"And, naturally, you made it 'radiant,' in the columns of the Daily Telegraph.""Exactly."
"Do you remember, Mr. Blount, what occurred at Zakret in 1812?""I remember it as well as if I had been there, sir,"replied the English correspondent.