An incredible manservant—He sees Jupiter's satellites—Dick and Joe at variance—Doubt and faith—Weighing in—Joe in the role of Wellington—Joe gets half-a-crown

DR FERGUSSON had a manservant who answered smartly to the name of Joe. He was an excellent fellow, who had devoted himself to his master's service with absolute competence and unlimited loyalty, even anticipating his orders and always carrying them out intelligently. He never grumbled and his temper was never ruffled. Had he been created purposely he could not have been better fitted for his job. Fergusson relied entirely on him for the details of his existence, and he was right. Rare and honest Joe! A servant who would order your dinner and whose tastes were yours; who would pack your trunk and forget neither socks nor shirt; who had possession of your keys and secrets and never abused his trust!

But on the other hand, what a master the doctor was for this estimable Joe! With what respect and confidence he received his decisions. When Fergusson had spoken, only a fool would have wanted to reply. All he thought was right, all he said wise, all he ordered practical, all he undertook possible, all he achieved admirable. You might have cut Joe in pieces, a job that no doubt would have caused you qualms, without making him change his opinion of his master. And so, when the doctor conceived the plan of crossing Africa by air, Joe regarded it as done; there could be no further obstacles. The moment Dr Fergusson had decided to set out he had as good as arrived at his destination, together with his faithful servant; for the good fellow, without its ever being mentioned, knew well enough that he would be included in the journey. Moreover, he would be of the greatest usefulness by reason of his intelligence and wonderful agility. Had it been necessary to appoint a gymnastic instructor for the monkeys at the Zoological Gardens, themselves pretty nimble, Joe would certainly have had the situation. Jumping, climbing, flying, performing a thousand impossible tricks, were child's play to him.

If Fergusson was the brain of the expedition and Kennedy the arm, Joe would be the hand. He had already accompanied his master on several journeys, and had a smattering of science which he had picked up one way or another; but what specially distinguished him was his good-humoured philosophy and delightful optimism. To him everything seemed easy, logical and natural, and, in consequence, he felt no need to complain. Among other qualities he possessed an amazing power and range of vision. He shared with Moestlin, Kepler's tutor, the rare faculty of being able to distinguish with his naked eye the satellites of Jupiter and to count fourteen stars in the Pleiades, the smallest of which are of the ninth magnitude. This did not make him conceited; he bowed to you very correctly, and when occasion demanded, knew how to make good use of his eyes.

Given this confidence of Joe's in the doctor, it is not surprising that incessant discussions should arise between Kennedy and the worthy servant, all due deference being of course observed. The one was sceptical, the other convinced. One represented clear-sighted prudence, the other blind confidence. The doctor found himself placed between doubt and faith, and it may be said at once that he did not trouble his head about either.

'Well, Mr Kennedy?' Joe would say.

'Well, Joe?'

'The time's getting near. It seems we're setting out for the moon.'

'You mean the Country of the Moon, which isn't quite as far; but set your mind at rest, it's just as dangerous.'

'Dangerous! with a man like Dr Fergusson!'

'I don't want to destroy your illusions, my dear Joe; but what he proposes to do is nothing short of lunacy. He's not going.'

'Not going! So you haven't seen his balloon in Mitchells' workshops?'

'I'd see myself hanged first.'

'You're missing a fine sight, sir; such a beautiful thing, such a lovely car! We shall be very comfortable in it.'

'Are you seriously counting on going with your master?'

'Of course,' Joe replied with conviction. 'I shall go wherever he wants. That would be a nice thing, letting him go alone, after we've been all over the world together! Who'd cheer him up when he was tired? Who'd help him when he wanted to jump over a precipice? Who'd look after him if he was ill? No, sir, Joe will always be at his post by the doctor, or I should say, round the doctor.'

'Good laddie.'

'Besides, you're coming with us,' Joe went on.

'No doubt,' said Kennedy. 'I mean, I'm coming with you to try and stop Samuel, up to the last minute, from committing such a mad trick. I'll even follow him as far as Zanzibar so that there'll be a friend at hand to put a stop to his idiotic scheme.'

'You won't stop anything at all, sir, begging your pardon. My master's not a crazy fool. He thinks over what he's going to do for a long time, and once he's made up his mind, the devil himself wouldn't turn him.'

'We'll see.'

'Don't you pin any hope to that, sir. Besides, the main thing is that you should come. For a sportsman like you, Africa's a wonderful country; so however you look at it, you won't regret your trip.'

'No, I certainly shan't regret it, especially if this pig-headed fellow gives way to reason.'

'By the way, sir,' said Joe, 'you know that we weigh in today?'

'Weigh in, what do you mean?'

'We three, you and me and the master, will all have to get ourselves weighed, of course.'

'Like jockeys?'

'Yes, sir. But don't worry, sir; you won't have to waste if you are too heavy. They'll take you as you are.'

'I certainly have no intention of being weighed,' said the Scot firmly.

'But, sir, it seems we have to be, for the balloon.'

'Very well, his balloon will have to do without it.'

'Lord, sir! And supposing we couldn't go up because the weights weren't right?'

'By heaven, that's all I ask!'

'Come, Mr Kennedy, my master is coming to fetch us any minute.'

'I shan't go.'

'You wouldn't disappoint him like that.'

'Wouldn't I!'

'All right, sir,' said Joe, laughing; 'you talk like this because he isn't here, but when he says to your face, “Dick (begging your pardon, sir), Dick, I must know your exact weight,” you'll go, I'll answer for it.'

'I shall not.'

At this moment the doctor re-entered his study where this conversation was going on. He looked at Kennedy, who didn't feel too comfortable.

'Dick,' he said, 'come with Joe. I must know what you both weigh.'

'But—'

'You can keep your hat on. Come along.'

And Kennedy went.

They all three went to Mitchells' workshops, where a weighingmachine was ready. The doctor had to know the weights of his companions in order to arrange the equilibrium of his balloon. He made Dick get on to the machine, and Dick, without offering any resistance, muttered:

'All right, all right; that doesn't commit me to anything.'

'153 lbs,' said the doctor, writing down the figure in his note-book.

'Am I too heavy?'

'Oh no, sir,' Joe answered; 'besides, I'm light. I'll make up for you.'

So saying, Joe eagerly took Kennedy's place, nearly upsetting the machine in his excitement. He struck the attitude of Wellington trying to imitate Achilles at the entrance to Hyde Park, and was magnificent even without a shield.

'120 lbs,' muttered the doctor, writing it down.

'Ha! Ha!' laughed Joe, beaming with satisfaction. He could never have explained why he laughed.

'My turn,' said Fergusson, and he entered his own weight at 135 lbs.

'The three of us together,' he said, 'don't weigh much over 400 lbs.'

'But if it was necessary to your expedition, sir,' said Joe, 'I could easily get down twenty pounds by not eating.'

'There's no need, Joe,' the doctor answered; 'you can eat as much as you like, and here's half-a-crown to ballast yourself in any way you like.' IMQlh9pJUaTLlsqmFLYfQ62DgYWRvvB3GHAwEbo0IKw+gVpvCj5buaA/fQUO+Tqb