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

and accepted by her two ardent admirers.

During his residence in the gourbi, Hector Servadac's sole
companion was his orderly, Ben Zoof. Ben Zoof was devoted,
body and soul, to his superior officer. His own personal
ambition was so entirely absorbed in his master's welfare,
that it is certain no offer of promotion--even had it been
that of aide-de-camp to the Governor-General of Algiers--
would have induced him to quit that master's service.
His name might seem to imply that he was a native of Algeria;
but such was by no means the case. His true name was Laurent;
he was a native of Montmartre in Paris, and how or why he had
obtained his patronymic was one of those anomalies which the most
sagacious of etymologists would find it hard to explain.

Born on the hill of Montmartre, between the Solferino tower and the mill
of La Galette, Ben Zoof had ever possessed the most unreserved
admiration for his birthplace; and to his eyes the heights and district
of Montmartre represented an epitome of all the wonders of the world.
In all his travels, and these had been not a few, he had never
beheld scenery which could compete with that of his native home.
No cathedral--not even Burgos itself--could vie with the church
at Montmartre. Its race-course could well hold its own against
that at Pentelique; its reservoir would throw the Mediterranean
into the shade; its forests had flourished long before the invasion
of the Celts; and its very mill produced no ordinary flour,
but provided material for cakes of world-wide renown.
To crown all, Montmartre boasted a mountain--a veritable mountain;
envious tongues indeed might pronounce it little more than a hill;
but Ben Zoof would have allowed himself to be hewn in pieces
rather than admit that it was anything less than fifteen thousand
feet in height.

Ben Zoof's most ambitious desire was to induce the captain to go
with him and end his days in his much-loved home, and so incessantly
were Servadac's ears besieged with descriptions of the unparalleled
beauties and advantages of this eighteenth arrondissement of Paris,
that he could scarcely hear the name of Montmartre without a conscious
thrill of aversion. Ben Zoof, however, did not despair of ultimately
converting the captain, and meanwhile had resolved never to leave him.
When a private in the 8th Cavalry, he had been on the point of quitting
the army at twenty-eight years of age, but unexpectedly he had been appointed
orderly to Captain Servadac. Side by side they fought in two campaigns.
Servadac had saved Ben Zoof's life in Japan; Ben Zoof had rendered
his master a like service in the Soudan. The bond of union thus
effected could never be severed; and although Ben Zoof's achievements
had fairly earned him the right of retirement, he firmly declined all
honors or any pension that might part him from his superior officer.
Two stout arms, an iron constitution, a powerful frame, and an
indomitable courage were all loyally devoted to his master's service,