The Argonauts | Page 3

on
the first day almost, he discovered a new field; he was very anxious to
seize this field, and begin his Herculean efforts on it. But the seizure
depended on a certain very highly placed personage to whom, up to that
time, he had not been able to gain admittance.
The cat's paw had played about a number of times to open a crevice in
the closed door, but in vain! He desired a confidential talk of two hours,
but could not obtain it.
He turned then to a method which had given him real service
frequently.
He found an individual who had the art of squeezing into all places, of
winning everyone, of digging from under the earth circumstances,
relations, influences. Individuals of this kind are generally dubious in
character, but this concerned Darvid in no way. He considered that at
the bottom of life dregs are found as surely as slime is in rivers which
have golden sand. He thought of life's dregs and smiled
contemptuously, but did not hesitate to handle those dregs, and see if
there were golden grains in them. He called his dubious assistants
hounds, for they tracked game in thickets inaccessible to the hunter.
Small, almost invisible, they were still better able than he to contract
muscles, creep up or spring over. He had let out such a hound a few
days before to gain the desired audience, and had received no news
from him thus far. This disturbed and annoyed Darvid greatly. He
would rush into the new work like a lion into an arena, and spring at
fresh prey.
The evening twilight came down into the series of great and small

chambers. Darvid, in his study, furnished with such dignified wealth
that it was almost severe in the rich lamp-light, received men who came
on affairs of various descriptions: with reports, accounts, requests,
proposals.
In that study everything was dark-colored, massive, grand in its
proportions, of great price, but not flashy. Not the least object was
showy or fantastic; nothing was visible save dignity and comfort. There
were books behind the glass of a splendid bookcase, two great pictures
on the wall, a desk with piles of papers, in the middle of the room a
round table covered with maps, pamphlets, thick volumes; around the
table, heavy, deep and low armchairs. The room was spacious with a
lofty ceiling, from which hung over the round table a splendid lamp,
burning brightly.
Darvid's remote prototype, the Argonaut Jason, must have had quite a
different exterior when he sailed on toward Colchis to find the golden
fleece. Time, which changes the methods of contest, changes the forms
of its knights correspondingly. Jason trusted in the strength of his arm
and his sword-blade. Darvid trusted in his brain and his nerves only.
Hence, in him, brain and nerves were developed to the prejudice of
muscles, creating a special power, which one had to know in order to
recognize it in that slender and not lofty figure, in that face with
shrunken cheeks, covered with skin which was dry, pale, and as mobile
as if quivering from every breeze which carried his bark toward the
shores which he longed for. On his cheeks shone narrow strips of
whiskers, almost bronze-hued; the silky ends of these fell on his stiff,
low collar; ruddy mustaches, short and firm, darkened his pale, thin lips,
which had a smile in the changeableness of which was great expression;
this smile encouraged, discouraged, attracted, repelled, believed,
doubted, courted or jeered-jeered frequently. But the main seat of
power in Darvid seemed to be his eyes, which rested long and
attentively on that which he examined. These eyes had pupils of steel
color, cold, very deep, and with a fullness of penetrating light which
was often sharp, under brows which were prominent, whose ruddy lines
were drawn under a high forehead, increased further by incipient
baldness-a forehead which was smooth and had the polish of ivory;

between the brows were numerous wrinkles, like a cloud of anxiety and
care. His was a cold, reasoning face, energetic, with the stamp of
thought fixed between the brows, and lines of irony which had made
the mouth drawn.
A jurist, one of the most renowned in that great city, held in his hand an
open volume of the Code, and was reading aloud a series of extracts
from it. Darvid was standing and listening attentively, but irony
increased in his smile, and, when the jurist stopped reading, he began in
a low voice. This voice with its tones suppressed, as it were, through
caution, was one of Darvid's peculiarities.
"Pardon me, but what you have read has no relation to the point which
concerns us." Taking the book he turned over its pages for a while and
began