a yard of his ivory halberd to the Museum of Natural History."
But in the meanwhile I must seek this narwhal in the North
Pacific Ocean, which, to return to France, was taking the road
to the antipodes.

"Conseil," I called in an impatient voice.

Conseil was my servant, a true, devoted Flemish boy, who had accompanied
me in all my travels. I liked him, and he returned the liking well.
He was quiet by nature, regular from principle, zealous from habit,
evincing little disturbance at the different surprises of life,
very quick with his hands, and apt at any service required of him;
and, despite his name, never giving advice--even when asked for it.

Conseil had followed me for the last ten years wherever science led.
Never once did he complain of the length or fatigue of a journey,
never make an objection to pack his portmanteau for whatever
country it might be, or however far away, whether China or Congo.
Besides all this, he had good health, which defied all sickness,
and solid muscles, but no nerves; good morals are understood.
This boy was thirty years old, and his age to that of his master
as fifteen to twenty. May I be excused for saying that I was
forty years old?

But Conseil had one fault: he was ceremonious to a degree,
and would never speak to me but in the third person,
which was sometimes provoking.

"Conseil," said I again, beginning with feverish hands to make
preparations for my departure.