Blount, having distanced his companion, took possession of the wicket, whilst Alcide Jolivet, contrary to his usual habit, stamped with impatience. “Ten copecks a word,” said the clerk. Blount deposited a pile of roubles on the shelf, whilst his rival looked on with a sort of stupefaction. “Good,” said the clerk. And with the greatest coolness in the world he began to telegraph the following dispatch: “_Daily Telegraph_, London. “From Kolyvan, Government of Omsk, Siberia, 6th August. “Engagement between Russian and Tartar troops.” The reading was in a distinct voice, so that Michael heard all that the English correspondent was sending to his paper. “Russians repulsed with great loss. Tartars entered Kolyvan to-day.” These words ended the dispatch. “My turn now,” cried Alcide Jolivet, anxious to send off his dispatch, addressed to his cousin. But that was not Blount’s idea, who did not intend to give up the wicket, but have it in his power to send off the news just as the events occurred. He would therefore not make way for his companion. “But you have finished!” exclaimed Jolivet. “I have not finished,” returned Harry Blount quietly. And he proceeded to write some sentences, which he handed in to the clerk, who read out in his calm voice: “John Gilpin was a citizen of credit and renown; a train-band captain eke was he of famous London town.” Harry Blount was telegraphing some verses learned in his childhood, in order to employ the time, and not give up his place to his rival. It would perhaps cost his paper some thousands of roubles, but it would be the first informed. France could wait. Jolivet’s fury may be imagined, though under any other circumstances he would have thought it fair warfare. He even endeavored to force the clerk to take his dispatch in preference to that of his rival. “It is that gentleman’s right,” answered the clerk coolly, pointing to Blount, and smiling in the most amiable manner. And he continued faithfully to transmit to the _Daily Telegraph_ the well-known verses of Cowper. Whilst he was working Blount walked to the window and, his field glass to his eyes, watched all that was going on in the neighborhood of Kolyvan, so as to complete his information. In a few minutes he resumed his place at the wicket, and added to his telegram: “Two churches are in flames. The fire appears to gain on the right. ‘John Gilpin’s spouse said to her dear, Though wedded we have been these twice ten tedious years, yet we no holiday have seen.’” Alcide Jolivet would have liked to strangle the honorable correspondent of the _Daily Telegraph_. He again interrupted the clerk, who, quite unmoved, merely replied: “It is his right, sir, it is his right--at ten copecks a word.”