THE PLOT UNVEILED.
The sound of the name of Ben Joyce fell upon the party like a
thunderbolt. Ayrton suddenly sprang to his feet. In his hand was a
revolver. A report was heard; and Glenarvan fell, struck by a bullet.
Before Captain Mangles and the sailors recovered from the surprise into
which this unexpected turn of affairs had thrown them, the audacious
convict had escaped, and joined his band, scattered along the edge of
the wood of gum-trees.
[Illustration: A report was heard; and Glenarvan fell, struck by a
bullet.]
The tent did not offer a sufficient shelter against the bullets, and
it was clearly necessary to beat a retreat. Glenarvan, who was but
slightly injured, had risen.
"To the cart! to the cart!" cried Captain Mangles, as he hurried on
Lady Helena and Mary Grant, who were soon in safety behind its stout
sides.
The captain, the major, Paganel, and the sailors then seized their
rifles, and stood ready to repel the convicts. Glenarvan and Robert had
joined the ladies, while Olbinett hastened to the common defence.
These events had transpired with the rapidity of lightning. Captain
Mangles attentively watched the edge of the wood; but the reports
suddenly ceased on the arrival of Ben Joyce, and a profound silence
succeeded the noisy fusillade. A few wreaths of white smoke were still
curling up between the branches of the gum-trees, but the tall tufts of
gastrolobium were motionless and all signs of attack had disappeared.
The major and Captain Mangles extended their examinations as far as the
great trees. The place was abandoned. Numerous footprints were seen,
and a few half-burnt cartridges smoked on the ground. The major, like
a prudent man, extinguished them, for a spark was enough to kindle a
formidable conflagration in this forest of dry trees.
"The convicts have disappeared," said Captain Mangles.
"Yes," replied the major; "and this disappearance alarms me. I should
prefer to meet them face to face. It is better to encounter a tiger in
the open plain than a serpent in the grass. Let us search these bushes
around the cart."
[Sidenote: UNRAVELINGS.]
The major and captain scoured the surrounding country. But from the
edge of the wood to the banks of the Snowy they did not meet with a
single convict. Ben Joyce's band seemed to have flown away, like a
flock of mischievous birds. This disappearance was too strange to
inspire a perfect security. They therefore resolved to keep on the
watch. The cart, which was a really immovable fortress, became the
centre of the encampment, and two men kept guard, relieving each other
every hour.
Lady Helena and Mary Grant's first care had been to dress Glenarvan's
wound. At the very moment that her husband fell, from Ben Joyce's
bullet, in her terror she had rushed towards him. Then, controlling
her emotion, this courageous woman had assisted Glenarvan to the cart.
Here the shoulder of the wounded man was laid bare, and the major
perceived that the ball had lacerated the flesh, causing no other
injury. Neither bones nor large muscles seemed affected. The wound bled
considerably, but Glenarvan, by moving the fingers of his hand and
fore-arm, encouraged his friends to expect a favorable result. When his
wound was dressed, he no longer desired any attention, and explanations
followed. The travelers, except Wilson and Mulready, who were keeping
guard outside, had taken seats as well as possible in the cart, and the
major was requested to speak.
Before beginning his story, he informed Lady Helena of the escape of
a band of convicts from Perth, their appearance in the province of
Victoria, and their complicity in the railway disaster. He gave her
the number of the _Australian and New Zealand Gazette_ purchased at
Seymour, and added that the police had set a price on the head of Ben
Joyce, a formidable bandit, whom eighteen months of crime had given a
wide-spread notoriety.
But how had MacNabb recognized this Ben Joyce in the quartermaster
Ayrton? Here was the mystery that all wished to solve; and the major
explained.
Since the day of his meeting with Ayrton he had suspected him. Two or
three almost insignificant circumstances, a glance exchanged between
the quartermaster and the farrier at Wimerra River, Ayrton's hesitation
to pass through the towns and villages, his strong wish to order the
Duncan to the coast, the strange death of the animals confided to his
care, and, finally, a want of frankness in his actions,--all these
facts, gradually noticed, had roused the major's suspicions.
However, he could form no direct accusation until the events that had
transpired the preceding night. Gliding between the tall clumps of
shrubbery, as was related in the previous chapter, he approached near
the suspicious shadows that had attracted his attention half a mile
from the encampment. The phosphorescent plants cast their pale rays
through the darkness. Three men were examining some tracks on the
ground, and among them he recognized the farrier of Black Point Station.
"Here they are," said one.
"Yes," replied another, "here is the trefoil of the hoofs again."
"It has been like this since leaving the Wimerra."
"All the horses are dead."
"The poison is not far away."
"There is enough here to settle an entire troop of cavalry. This
gastrolobium is a useful plant."
"Then they were silent," added MacNabb, "and departed. I wanted to know
more: I followed them. The conversation soon began again. 'A cunning
man, this Ben Joyce,' said the farrier; 'a famous quartermaster, with
his invented shipwreck. If his plan succeeds, it will be a stroke of
fortune. Devilish Ayrton! Call him Ben Joyce, for he has well earned
his name.' These rascals then left the wood of gum-trees. I knew what
I wished, and returned to the encampment with the certainty that all
the convicts in Australia are not reformed, in spite of Paganel's
arguments."
"Then," said Glenarvan, whose face was pale with anger, "Ayrton has
brought us here to rob and assassinate us?"
"Yes," replied the major.
"And, since leaving the Wimerra, his band has followed and watched us,
waiting for a favorable opportunity?"
[Sidenote: FROM DEPTH TO DEPTH.]
"Yes."
"But this wretch is not, then, a sailor of the Britannia? He has stolen
his name and contract?"
All eyes were turned towards MacNabb, who must have considered this
matter.
"These," replied he, in his calm voice, "are the proofs that can be
derived from this obscure state of affairs. In my opinion this man's
real name is Ayrton. Ben Joyce is his fighting title. It is certain
that he knows Harry Grant, and has been quartermaster on board the
Britannia. These facts, proved already by the precise details given
by Ayrton, are still further corroborated by the conversation of the
convicts that I have related. Let us not, therefore, be led astray
by vain conjectures, but only be certain that Ayrton is Ben Joyce, a
sailor of the Britannia, now chief of a band of convicts."
The major's explanation was accepted as conclusive.
"Now," replied Glenarvan, "will you tell me how and why Harry Grant's
quartermaster is in Australia?"
"How, I do not know," said MacNabb; "and the police declare they know
no more than I on the subject. Why, it is also impossible for me to
say. Here is a mystery that the future will explain."
"The police do not even know the identity of Ayrton and Ben Joyce,"
said Captain Mangles.
"You are right, John," replied the major; "and such information would
be likely to facilitate their search."
"This unfortunate, then," remarked Lady Helena, "intruded into
O'Moore's farm with a criminal intention?"
"There is no doubt of it," continued MacNabb. "He was meditating
some hostile attack upon the Irishman, when a better opportunity was
offered. Chance threw us in his way. He heard Glenarvan's story of the
shipwreck, and, like a bold man, he promptly decided to take part in
the expedition. At the Wimerra he communicated with one of his friends,
the farrier of Black Point, and thus left distinguishable traces of
our course. His band followed us. A poisonous plant enabled him to
gradually kill our oxen and horses. Then, at the proper moment, he
entangled us in the marshes of the Snowy, and surrendered us to the
convicts he commanded."
Everything possible had been said concerning Ben Joyce. His past had
just been reviewed by the major, and the wretch appeared as he was,--a
bold and formidable criminal. His intentions had been clearly proved,
and required, on the part of Glenarvan, extreme vigilance. Fortunately,
there was less to fear from the detected bandit than the secret traitor.
But one serious fact appeared from this explanation. No one had yet
thought of it; only Mary Grant, disregarding the past, looked forward
to the future. Captain Mangles first saw her pale and disconsolate. He
understood what was passing in her mind.
"Miss Mary!" cried he, "you are weeping!"
"What is the matter, my child?" asked Lady Helena.
"My father, madam, my father!" replied the young girl.
She could not continue. But a sudden revelation dawned on the mind of
each. They comprehended Mary's grief, why the tears flowed from her
eyes, why the name of her father rose to her lips.
The discovery of Ayrton's treachery destroyed all hope. The convict, to
entice Glenarvan on, had invented a shipwreck. In their conversation,
overheard by MacNabb, his accomplices had clearly confessed it. The
Britannia had never been wrecked on the reefs of Twofold Bay! Harry
Grant had never set foot on the Australian continent!
For the second time an erroneous interpretation of the document had set
the searchers of the Britannia on a false trail. All, in the face of
this situation and the grief of the two children, preserved a mournful
silence. Who then could have found words of hope? Robert wept in his
sister's arms. Paganel murmured, in a voice of despair,--
[Sidenote: CALM AND CLOUDINESS.]
"Ah, unlucky document! You can boast of having sorely puzzled the
brains of a dozen brave people!"
And the worthy geographer was fairly furious against himself, and
frantically beat his forehead.
In the mean time Glenarvan had joined Mulready and Wilson, who were on
guard without. A deep silence reigned on the plain lying between the
wood and the river. Heavy clouds covered the vault of the sky. In this
deadened and torpid atmosphere the least sound would have been clearly
transmitted; but nothing was heard. Ben Joyce and his band must have
fled to a considerable distance; for flocks of birds that sported on
the low branches of the trees, several kangaroos peacefully browsing on
the young shoots, and a pair of cassowaries, whose unsuspecting heads
were thrust between the tall bushes, proved that the presence of man
did not disturb these peaceful solitudes.
"You have not seen nor heard anything for an hour?" inquired Glenarvan
of the two sailors.
"Nothing, my lord," replied Wilson. "The convicts must be several miles
away."
"They cannot have been in sufficient force to attack us," added
Mulready. "This Ben Joyce probably intended to recruit some bandits,
like himself, among the bushrangers that wander at the foot of the
Alps."
"Very likely, Mulready," replied Glenarvan. "These rascals are cowards.
They know we are well armed, and are perhaps waiting for darkness to
commence their attack. We must redouble our vigilance at nightfall. If
we could only leave this marshy plain and pursue our journey towards
the coast! But the swollen waters of the river bar our progress. I
would pay its weight in gold for a raft that would transport us to the
other side!"
"Why," said Wilson, "does not your lordship give us the order to
construct this raft? There is plenty of wood."
"No, Wilson," answered Glenarvan; "this Snowy is not a river, it is an
impassable torrent."
[Illustration: A pair of cassowaries proved that the presence of man
did not disturb these peaceful solitudes.]
[Sidenote: READINESS FOR SERVICE.]
At this moment Captain Mangles, the major, and Paganel joined
Glenarvan. They had been to examine the Snowy. The waters, swollen by
the recent rains, had risen a foot above low-water mark, and formed
an impetuous current. It was impossible to venture upon this roaring
deluge, these rushing floods, broken into a thousand eddies by the
depressions of the river-bed. Captain Mangles declared that the passage
was impracticable.
"But," added he, "we ought not to remain here without making any
attempt. What we wished to do before Ayrton's treason is still more
necessary now."
"What do you say, captain?" asked Glenarvan.
"I say that assistance is needed; and since we cannot go to Twofold
Bay, we must go to Melbourne. One horse is left. Let your lordship give
him to me, and I will go."
"But it is a perilous venture, John," said Glenarvan. "Aside from the
dangers of this journey of two hundred miles across an unknown country,
all the roads may be guarded by Ben Joyce's accomplices."
"I know it, my lord; but I know, too, that our situation cannot be
prolonged. Ayrton only asked eight days' absence to bring back the crew
of the Duncan. But I will return in six days to the banks of the Snowy.
What are your lordship's orders?"
"Before Glenarvan speaks," said Paganel, "I must make a remark. It is
well that one of us should go to Melbourne, but not that these dangers
should be incurred by Captain Mangles. He is the captain of the Duncan,
and must not, therefore, expose himself. Allow me to go in his place."
"Well said," replied the major; "but why should it be you, Paganel?"
"Are we not here?" cried Wilson and Mulready.
"And do you believe," continued MacNabb, "that I am afraid to make a
journey of two hundred miles on horseback?"
"My friends," said Glenarvan, "if one of us is to go to Melbourne, let
fate decide. Paganel, write our names----"
"Not yours at least, my lord," insisted Captain Mangles.
"And why?" asked Glenarvan.
"Separate you from Lady Helena, when your wound is not yet healed?"
"Glenarvan," interposed Paganel, "you cannot leave the encampment."
"No," resumed the major; "your place is here. Edward, you must not go."
"There are dangers to incur," replied Glenarvan; "and I will not leave
my part to others. Write, Paganel; let my name be mingled with those of
my companions, and Heaven grant that it may be the first drawn."
All yielded to this wish; and Glenarvan's name was added to the others.
They then proceeded to draw, and the lot fell upon Mulready. The brave
sailor uttered a cry of joy.
"My lord, I am ready to go," said he.
Glenarvan clasped his hand, and then turned towards the cart, leaving
the major and Captain Mangles to guard the encampment. Lady Helena
was at once informed of the decision taken to send a messenger to
Melbourne, and of the result of the drawing by lot. She spoke words to
Mulready that went to the heart of that noble sailor. They knew that he
was brave, intelligent, hardy, and persevering. The lot could not have
fallen better.
It was decided that Mulready should depart at eight o'clock, after the
short twilight. Wilson charged himself with getting the horse ready. He
took the precaution to change the tell-tale shoe that he wore on his
left foot, and to replace it by one belonging to the horses that had
died in the night. The convicts could not now track Mulready, or follow
him, unless mounted.
[Sidenote: ANOTHER DISTRACTION.]
While Wilson was occupied with these arrangements, Glenarvan was
preparing the letter designed for Tom Austin; but his wounded arm
disabled him, and he asked Paganel to write for him. The geographer,
who seemed absorbed in one idea, was oblivious to what was passing
around him. It must be confessed that Paganel, in all this succession
of sad misfortunes, thought only of his false interpretation of the
document. He turned the words about in every way to draw from them a
new meaning, and remained wrapt in these meditations. Thus he did not
hear Glenarvan's request, and the latter was forced to repeat it.
"Very well," replied Paganel; "I am ready."
So saying, he mechanically produced his note-book. He tore out a blank
page, and then, with his pencil in his hand, made ready to write.
Glenarvan began to dictate the following instructions:
"Order for Tom Austin to put to sea, and bring the Duncan----"
Paganel had just finished this last word when his eyes fell upon the
number of the _Australian and New Zealand Gazette_ that lay upon the
ground. The paper, being folded, only allowed him to see the two last
syllables of its title. His pencil stopped, and he seemed to completely
forget Glenarvan and his letter.
"Well, Paganel?" said Glenarvan.
"Ah!" continued the geographer, uttering a cry.
"What is the matter?" asked the major.
"Nothing! nothing!" replied Paganel. Then, in a lower tone, he
repeated: "Aland! aland! aland!"
He had risen; he had seized the paper. He shook it, seeking to
repress words ready to escape his lips. Lady Helena, Mary, Robert,
and Glenarvan gazed at him without understanding this inexplicable
agitation. Paganel was like a man whom a sudden frenzy has seized. But
this state of nervous excitation did not last. He gradually grew calm.
The joy that gleamed in his eyes died away, and, resuming his place, he
said, in a quiet tone:
"When you wish, my lord, I am at your disposal."
Glenarvan continued the dictation of his letter, which was distinctly
worded as follows:
"Order for Tom Austin to put to sea, and bring the Duncan to the
eastern coast of Australia."
"Australia?" cried Paganel. "Ah, yes, Australia!"
The letter was now finished, and presented to Glenarvan for his
signature, who, although affected by his recent wound, acquitted
himself as well as possible of this formality. The note was then
folded and sealed, while Paganel, with a hand that still trembled from
excitement, wrote the following address:
"Tom Austin,
"Mate of the Yacht Duncan,
"Melbourne."
Thereupon he left the cart, gesticulating, and repeating these
incomprehensible words:
"Aland! aland! Zealand!"