"Jules Verne. Off on a Comet. WORKS" - читать интересную книгу автора

his farther efforts were unavailing, and when at six o'clock he reached
the gourbi, the four lines still remained the limit of his composition.




CHAPTER II

CAPTAIN SERVADAC AND HIS ORDERLY


At the time of which I write, there might be seen in the registers
of the Minister of War the following entry:

SERVADAC (_Hector_), born at St. Trelody in the district of Lesparre,
department of the Gironde, July 19th, 18--.

_Property:_ 1200 francs in rentes.

_Length of service:_ Fourteen years, three months, and five days.

_Service:_ Two years at school at St. Cyr; two years at L'Ecole d'Application;
two years in the 8th Regiment of the Line; two years in the 3rd Light Cavalry;
seven years in Algeria.

_Campaigns:_ Soudan and Japan.

_Rank:_ Captain on the staff at Mostaganem.

_Decorations:_ Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, March 13th, 18--.

Hector Servadac was thirty years of age, an orphan without lineage
and almost without means. Thirsting for glory rather than for gold,
slightly scatter-brained, but warm-hearted, generous, and brave,
he was eminently formed to be the protege of the god of battles.

For the first year and a half of his existence he had been
the foster-child of the sturdy wife of a vine-dresser of Medoc--
a lineal descendant of the heroes of ancient prowess; in a word,
he was one of those individuals whom nature seems to have
predestined for remarkable things, and around whose cradle
have hovered the fairy godmothers of adventure and good luck.

In appearance Hector Servadac was quite the type of an officer; he was rather
more than five feet six inches high, slim and graceful, with dark curling
hair and mustaches, well-formed hands and feet, and a clear blue eye.
He seemed born to please without being conscious of the power he possessed.
It must be owned, and no one was more ready to confess it than himself,
that his literary attainments were by no means of a high order.
"We don't spin tops" is a favorite saying amongst artillery officers,