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The Passenger of the Atlanta
Those"fellows,"ashecalledthem,"areonlyfittomarkthepoints,whileweplaythegame."Hewas,infact,athoroughBohemian,adventurous,butnotanadventurer;ahare-brainedfellow,akindofIcarus,onlypossessingrelaysofwings.Fortherest,hewaseverinscrapes,endinginvariablybyfallingonhisfeet,likethoselittlefigureswhichtheysellforchildren’stoys.Inafewwords,hismottowas"Ihavemyopinions,"andtheloveoftheimpossibleconstitutedhisrulingpassion.
SuchwasthepassengeroftheAtlanta,alwaysexcitable,asifboilingundertheactionofsomeinternalfirebythecharacterofhisphysicalorganization.Ifevertwoindividualsofferedastrikingcontrasttoeachother,thesewerecertainlyMichelArdanandtheYankeeBarbicane;both,moreover,beingequallyenterprisinganddaring,eachinhisownway.
ThescrutinywhichthepresidentoftheGunClubhadinstitutedregardingthisnewrivalwasquicklyinterruptedbytheshoutsandhurrahsofthecrowd.Thecriesbecameatlastsouproarious,andthepopularenthusiasmassumedsopersonalaform,thatMichelArdan,afterhavingshakenhandssomethousandsoftimes,attheimminentriskofleavinghisfingersbehindhim,wasfainatlasttomakeaboltforhiscabin.
Barbicanefollowedhimwithoututteringaword.
"YouareBarbicane,Isuppose?"saidMichelArdan,inatoneofvoiceinwhichhewouldhaveaddressedafriendoftwentyyears’standing.
"Yes,"repliedthepresidentoftheGunClub.
