THE QUARTERMASTER OF THE BRITANNIA.
The astonishment that these words produced cannot be described.
Glenarvan sprang to his feet, and, pushing back his chair, cried,--
"Who says that?"
"I!" replied one of O'Moore's workmen, seated at the end of the table.
"You, Ayrton?" said the colonist, no less astonished than Glenarvan.
"I," repeated Ayrton, in an excited but firm tone; "I, a Scotchman like
yourself, my lord, one of the shipwrecked sailors of the Britannia!"
[Sidenote: A FRESH FACE.]
Mary Grant, half fainting with emotion, and overcome with happiness,
sank into the arms of Lady Helena; while Captain Mangles, Robert, and
Paganel went towards the man whom their host had called Ayrton.
He was a somewhat rough-looking, broad-shouldered man, of about
forty-five, of more than medium height, and with piercing eyes sunk
deeply beneath his projecting brows. His strength must have been
unusual, even considering his stature, for he was all bone and sinew.
His countenance, full of intelligence and energy, although the features
were stern, prepossessed one in his favor. The sympathy that he
elicited was still more increased by the traces of recent hardships
imprinted upon his face. It was evident that he had suffered much,
although he seemed a man able to brave, endure, and conquer suffering.
The travelers felt all this at first sight. Ayrton's appearance had
interested them; and Glenarvan, acting as spokesman for all, pressed
him with inquiries. This strange meeting had evidently produced a
bewildering effect, and the first questions were, to some extent,
without order.
"You are one of the sailors of the Britannia?" asked Glenarvan.
"Yes, my lord; Captain Grant's quartermaster," replied Ayrton.
"Saved with him from the shipwreck?"
"No, my lord. At that terrible moment I was washed overboard and cast
ashore."
"You are not one of the sailors, then, of whom the document makes
mention?"
"No; I did not know of the existence of such a document. The captain
must have thrown it overboard after I was gone."
"But the captain, the captain?"
"I suppose he was lost, drowned, with the rest of the crew. I thought I
was the sole survivor."
"But you said that Captain Grant was living!"
[Illustration: He was a somewhat rough-looking, broad-shouldered man,
of about forty-five.]
[Illustration: "When I was washed from the forecastle, as I was hauling
down the jib, the Britannia was driving towards the coast of Australia,
which was not two cable-lengths distant."]
"No. I said, 'if the captain is living'----"
"'He is in Australia,' you added."
"He can be nowhere else."
"You do not know, then, where he is?"
"No, my lord. I repeat that I thought he was buried in the waves or
dashed upon the rocks. You say that perhaps he is still living."
"What do you know, then?" asked Glenarvan.
"Simply this, that if Captain Grant is living he is in Australia."
"Where did the shipwreck take place?" inquired the major.
This should have been the first question; but, in the excitement of the
moment, Glenarvan, anxious to know where Captain Grant was, had not
inquired where the Britannia was lost. From this point the conversation
assumed a more definite form, and soon the details of the complicated
story appeared clear and exact to the minds of Ayrton's hearers.
To the major's question Ayrton replied,--
"When I was washed from the forecastle, as I was hauling down the jib,
the Britannia was driving towards the coast of Australia, which was not
two cable-lengths distant. The shipwreck, therefore, took place at that
point."
"In latitude thirty-seven?" asked Captain Mangles.
"Thirty-seven," replied Ayrton.
"On the west coast?"
"No. On the east coast."
"And when?"
"On the night of June 27th, 1862."
"The same! the very same!" cried Glenarvan.
"You see, then, my lord," added Ayrton, "that I was right in saying
that, if Captain Grant still lives, you must seek him in Australia."
[Sidenote: OLD MEMORIES.]
"And we will seek, find, and save him, my friend!" cried Paganel. "Ah,
precious document!" added he, with perfect simplicity: "it must be
confessed that you have fallen into the hands of very sagacious people."
No one noticed these flattering words of Paganel. Glenarvan, Lady
Helena, Mary, and Robert had crowded around Ayrton, and eagerly clasped
his hands. It seemed as if the presence of this man was a guarantee of
the safety of Harry Grant. Since the sailor had escaped the dangers
of shipwreck, why should not the captain be safe and sound? Ayrton
repeated his declaration that if Captain Grant were living he must be
in Australia. He answered with remarkable intelligence and clearness
the many questions that were propounded to him. Miss Mary, while
he spoke, held one of his hands in her own. This sailor had been a
companion of her father, one of the shipwrecked survivors of the
Britannia. He had lived with Harry Grant, had sailed the seas with him,
had braved the same dangers! She could not withdraw her eyes from that
weather-beaten face, and she wept with happiness.
Hitherto no one had thought of doubting the veracity of the
quartermaster. Only the major, and perhaps Captain Mangles, questioned
whether Ayrton's story merited _entire_ confidence. This unexpected
meeting might be suspicious. To be sure, Ayrton had mentioned facts and
dates that agreed, and striking particulars. But details, however exact
they may be, do not constitute a certainty; and generally, as we know,
falsehood endeavors to strengthen itself by its preciseness. MacNabb,
therefore, reserved his opinion.
[Illustration: When he came to himself, he was in the hands of the
natives, who carried him into the interior of the country.]
As for Captain Mangles, his doubts did not stand long before the
assertions of the sailor, and he considered him a real companion of
Captain Grant when he heard him speak to the young girl of her father.
Ayrton knew Mary and Robert perfectly. He had seen them at Glasgow
on the departure of the Britannia. He remembered that they had been
present at the farewell dinner given on board to the friends of the
captain. Sheriff MacIntyre was one of the guests. Robert--scarcely
ten years old--had been confided to the care of Dick Turner, the
boatswain, but had escaped from him and climbed to the top-sail
yard-arm.
[Illustration: At last, exhausted and almost dead, he reached the
hospitable dwelling of Mr. O'Moore, where his labor insured him a
comfortable livelihood.]
"It is true! it is true!" cried Robert.
The quartermaster remembered, too, a thousand little circumstances
to which he did not seem to attach so much importance as did Captain
Mangles. When he stopped, Mary said, in her sweet voice,--
"Mr. Ayrton, please tell us more about our father."
Ayrton acceded to the young girl's request. Glenarvan was reluctant to
interrupt him, and yet many more important questions thronged his mind.
But Lady Helena, pointing out to him Mary's joyful excitement, checked
his inquiries.
[Sidenote: TWO YEARS OF SLAVERY.]
The quartermaster now told the story of the Britannia and her voyage
across the Pacific. During the period of a year Harry Grant landed
at the principal ports of Oceanica, opposing unjustifiable captures,
and often a victim to the hostility of unjust traders. He found,
however, an important point on the western coast of Papua. Here the
establishment of a Scottish colony appeared to him feasible, and its
prosperity assured. After examining Papua, the Britannia sailed to
Callao for provisions, and left that port on the 30th of May, 1862, to
return to Europe by the way of the Indian Ocean and the Cape. Three
weeks after her departure, a terrible tempest disabled her. It became
necessary to cut away the masts. A leak was discovered in the hold,
which they did not succeed in stopping. The crew were soon overtasked
and exhausted. The pumps could not be worked. For eight days the
vessel was at the mercy of the storm. There were six feet of water
in her hold, and she gradually foundered. The boats had been washed
overboard, and the crew had given themselves up for lost, when on the
night of June 22nd, as Paganel had rightly interpreted, they descried
the eastern coast of Australia. The vessel soon stranded. A violent
shock was felt. At this moment Ayrton, borne by a wave, was cast into
the midst of the breakers, and lost all consciousness. When he came to
himself, he was in the hands of the natives, who carried him into the
interior of the country. Since then he had heard nothing more of the
Britannia, and naturally supposed that she had been wrecked, with all
on board, on the dangerous reefs of Twofold Bay.
This was Ayrton's story, which elicited more than once exclamations of
sympathy. The major could not justly doubt its correctness; and after
this recital the quartermaster's own experiences possessed a more real
interest. Indeed, thanks to the document, they no longer doubted that
Captain Grant had survived the shipwreck with two of his sailors. From
the fate of the one they could fairly conjecture that of the other.
Ayrton was invited to tell of his own adventures, which was soon and
simply done. The shipwrecked sailor, prisoner of a native tribe, was
carried into the interior regions watered by the Darling. Here he led
a very wretched existence, because the tribe itself was miserable; but
he was not maltreated. For two long years he endured a painful slavery.
However, the hope of regaining his liberty sustained his courage. He
watched for the least opportunity of escaping, although his flight
would plunge him into the midst of innumerable perils. One night
in October he eluded the vigilance of the natives, and took refuge
in the depths of extensive forests. For a month, living on roots,
edible ferns, and the gum of the mimosa, often overcome by despair,
he wandered in those vast solitudes, with the sun as his guide by
day and the stars by night. In this way he crossed marshes, rivers,
mountains, in short, all that uninhabited portion of country that few
travelers have explored. At last, exhausted and almost dead, he reached
the hospitable dwelling of Mr. O'Moore, where his labor insured him a
comfortable livelihood.
"And if Ayrton is pleased with me," said the Irish colonist, when the
story was finished, "I cannot but be pleased with him. He is an honest
and intelligent man, a good worker, and, if he chooses, this house
shall long be at his service."
Ayrton thanked Mr. O'Moore, and waited for further questions. He
probably thought, however, that the legitimate curiosity of his hearers
ought to be satisfied. What could he say that had not been repeated
a hundred times already? Glenarvan was, therefore, about to open the
conversation on a new topic, to profit by the information received from
Ayrton, when the major, addressing him, said:
"You were quartermaster of the Britannia?"
"Yes," replied Ayrton.
But perceiving that a certain feeling of distrust, a doubt, however
slight, had suggested this inquiry, he added,--
"I saved my contract from the wreck."
He immediately left the room in search of this authoritative document.
During his absence, which lasted but a few moments, Mr. O'Moore said:
"My lord, I will answer for it that Ayrton is an honest man. During the
two months that he has been in my employ, I have had no fault to find
with him. I knew the story of his shipwreck and captivity. He is a true
man, and worthy of your entire confidence."
Glenarvan was about to answer that he had never doubted Ayrton's
honesty, when the latter returned and presented his contract. It was a
paper signed by the owners of the Britannia and Captain Grant, whose
writing Mary recognized immediately. It stated that "Tom Ayrton, able
seaman, was engaged as quartermaster on board the brig Britannia of
Glasgow." There was, therefore, no possible doubt of Ayrton's identity,
for it would have been difficult to suppose that this contract could be
in his hands and not belong to him.
[Sidenote: ENTANGLEMENTS.]
"Now," said Glenarvan, "I appeal to you all for advice as to what is
best to be done. Your advice, Ayrton, would be particularly valuable,
and I should be much obliged if you would give it to us."
The sailor reflected a few moments, and then replied:
"I thank you, my lord, for the confidence you place in me, and hope to
show myself worthy of it. I have some knowledge of the country, and of
the customs of the natives; and, if I can be of use to you----"
"Certainly," replied Glenarvan.
"I think, like you," continued Ayrton, "that Captain Grant and his two
sailors were saved from the shipwreck; but, since they have not reached
the English possessions, since they have not reappeared, I doubt not
that their fate was the same as my own, and that they are prisoners of
the natives."
"You repeat, Mr. Ayrton, the arguments that I have already
substantiated," said Paganel. "The shipwrecked seamen are evidently
prisoners of the natives, as they feared. But ought we to suppose that,
like you, they have been carried to the north?"
"It is quite likely, sir," replied Ayrton. "The hostile tribes would
hardly remain in the neighborhood of the English provinces."
"This fact will complicate our search," said Glenarvan, quite
disconcerted. "How shall we find the traces of the prisoners in the
interior of so vast a continent?"
A prolonged silence followed this remark. Lady Helena frequently
cast a questioning glance at her companions, but without eliciting a
responsive sign. Paganel himself was silent, contrary to his custom.
His usual ingenuity now failed him. Captain Mangles paced the room with
long strides, as if he had been on the deck of his vessel, involved in
some difficulty.
"And you, Mr. Ayrton," said Lady Helena, at length, to the
quartermaster, "what would you do?"
"Madam," replied he, promptly, "I should re-embark on board the Duncan,
and go straight to the place of the shipwreck. There I should act
according to circumstances, or indications that chance might furnish."
"Very good," said Glenarvan; "but we must wait till the Duncan is
repaired."
"Ah! you have suffered injuries?" inquired Ayrton.
"Yes," replies the captain.
"Serious?"
"No; but they necessitate repairs which cannot be made on board. One
of the flanges of the screw is bent, and this work can be done only at
Melbourne."
"Can you not sail?" asked the quartermaster.
"Yes; but, if the wind is contrary, it would take considerable time
to reach Twofold Bay, and at any rate we should have to return to
Melbourne."
"Well, let the yacht go to Melbourne," said Paganel, "and we will go
without her to Twofold Bay."
"But how?"
"By crossing Australia, as we crossed South America."
"But the Duncan?" added Ayrton, with singular persistency.
"The Duncan will join us, or we will join her, according to
circumstances. If Captain Grant is found during our journey, we will
return together to Melbourne. If, on the contrary, we continue our
search to the coast, the Duncan shall join us there. Who has any
objections to make to this plan? Have you, major?"
"No," replied MacNabb, "if it is practicable."
"So practicable," said Paganel, "that I propose that Lady Helena and
Miss Grant accompany us."
"Do you speak seriously, Paganel?" asked Glenarvan.
"Quite seriously, my lord. It is a journey of three hundred and fifty
miles. At the rate of twelve miles a day it would last scarcely a
month,--long enough to give time for repairing the Duncan."
"But the ferocious animals?" said Glenarvan, wishing to state all
possible objections.
[Sidenote: OBSTACLES EXPLAINED AWAY.]
"There are none in Australia."
"But the savages?"
"There are none in the course we shall take."
"Well, then, the convicts?"
"There are no convicts in the southern provinces of Australia, but only
in the eastern colonies."
"Mr. Paganel is perfectly right," said O'Moore; "they have all left the
southern provinces. Since I have lived on this farm, I have not heard
of one."
"And, for my part, I never met one," added Ayrton.
"You see, my friends," continued Paganel, "that there are few savages,
no wild beasts, and no convicts. There are not many countries of Europe
of which we could say as much. Well, is it agreed?"
"What do you think, Helena?" asked Glenarvan.
"What we all think," replied she, turning towards her companions.
"Forward!"