AYRTON'S OBSTINACY.
Ayrton soon made his appearance. He crossed the deck with a confident
step, and ascended the poop-stairs. His eyes had a sullen look, his
teeth were set, and his fists clinched convulsively. His bearing
displayed neither exultation nor humility. As soon as he was in Lord
Glenarvan's presence, he folded his arms, and calmly and silently
waited to be questioned:
"Ayrton," said Glenarvan, "here we all are, as you see, on board the
Duncan, that you would have surrendered to Ben Joyce's accomplices."
At these words the lips of the quartermaster slightly trembled. A quick
blush colored his hard features,--not the sign of remorse, but the
shame of defeat. He was prisoner on this yacht that he had meant to
command as master, and his fate was soon to be decided.
However, he made no reply. Glenarvan waited patiently, but Ayrton still
persisted in maintaining an obstinate silence.
"Speak, Ayrton; what have you to say?" continued Glenarvan.
The convict hesitated, and the lines of his forehead were strongly
contracted. At last he said, in a calm voice:
"I have nothing to say, my lord. I was foolish enough to let myself be
taken. Do what you please."
[Sidenote: A DUMB PRISONER.]
Having given his answer, the quartermaster turned his eyes toward
the coast that extended along the west, and affected a profound
indifference for all that was passing around him. You would have
thought, to look at him, that he was a stranger to this serious affair.
But Glenarvan had resolved to be patient. A powerful motive urged
him to ascertain certain circumstances of Ayrton's mysterious life,
especially as regarded Harry Grant and the Britannia. He therefore
resumed his inquiries, speaking with extreme mildness, and imposing the
most perfect calmness upon the violent agitation of his heart.
"I hope, Ayrton," continued he, "that you will not refuse to answer
certain questions that I desire to ask you. And, first, am I to call
you Ayrton or Ben Joyce? Are you the quartermaster of the Britannia?"
Ayrton remained unmoved, watching the coast, deaf to every question.
Glenarvan, whose eye flashed with some inward emotion, continued to
question him.
"Will you tell me how you left the Britannia, and why you were in
Australia?"
There was the same silence, the same obstinacy.
"Listen to me, Ayrton," resumed Glenarvan. "It is for your interest to
speak. We may reward a frank confession, which is your only resort. For
the last time, will you answer my questions?"
Ayrton turned his head towards Glenarvan, and looked him full in the
face.
"My lord," said he, "I have nothing to answer. It is for justice to
prove against me."
"The proofs will be easy," replied Glenarvan.
[Sidenote: USELESS APPEALS.]
"Easy, my lord?" continued the quartermaster, in a sneering tone.
"Your lordship seems to me very hasty. I declare that the best judge
in Westminster Hall would be puzzled to establish my identity. Who can
say why I came to Australia, since Captain Grant is no longer here to
inform you? Who can prove that I am that Ben Joyce described by the
police, since they have never laid hands upon me, and my companions are
at liberty? Who, except you, can charge me, not to say with a crime,
but even with a culpable action?"
[Illustration: Ayrton soon made his appearance. He crossed the deck
with a confident step, and ascended the poop-stairs.]
Ayrton had grown animated while speaking, but soon relapsed into his
former indifference. He doubtless imagined that this declaration would
end the examination: but Glenarvan resumed, and said:
"Ayrton, I am not a judge charged with trying you. This is not my
business. It is important that our respective positions should be
clearly defined. I ask nothing that can implicate you, for that is the
part of justice. But you know what search I am pursuing, and, with a
word, you can put me on the track I have lost. Will you speak?"
Ayrton shook his head, like a man determined to keep silent.
"Will you tell me where Captain Grant is?" asked Glenarvan.
"No, my lord."
"Will you point out where the Britannia was wrecked?"
"Certainly not."
"Ayrton," said Glenarvan, in almost a suppliant tone, "will you, at
least, if you know where Captain Grant is, tell his poor children, who
are only waiting for a word from your lips?"
The quartermaster hesitated; his features quivered; but, in a low
voice, he muttered:
"I cannot, my lord."
Then, as if he reproached himself for a moment's weakness, he added,
angrily:
"No, I will not speak! Hang me if you will!"
"Hang, then!" cried Glenarvan, overcome by a sudden feeling of
indignation.
But finally controlling himself, he said, in a grave voice:
"There are neither judges nor hangmen here. At the first landing-place
you shall be put into the hands of the English authorities."
"Just what I desire," replied the quartermaster.
Thereupon he was taken back to the cabin that served as his prison, and
two sailors were stationed at the door, with orders to watch all his
movements. The witnesses of this scene retired indignant and in despair.
Since Glenarvan had failed to overcome Ayrton's obstinacy, what was
to be done? Evidently to follow the plan formed at Eden, of returning
to England, and resuming hereafter this unsuccessful enterprise, for
all traces of the Britannia now seemed irrevocably lost. The document
admitted of no new interpretation. There was no other country on the
line of the thirty-seventh parallel, and the only way was to sail for
home.
He consulted his friends, and more especially Captain Mangles, on the
subject of return. The captain examined his store-rooms. The supply
of coal would not last more than fifteen days. It was, therefore,
necessary to replenish the fuel at the first port. He accordingly
proposed to Glenarvan to sail for Talcahuana Bay, where the Duncan had
already procured supplies before undertaking her voyage. This was a
direct passage. Then the yacht, with ample provisions, could double
Cape Horn, and reach Scotland by way of the Atlantic.
This plan being adopted, the engineer was ordered to force on steam.
Half an hour afterwards the yacht was headed towards Talcahuana, and at
six o'clock in the evening the mountains of New Zealand had disappeared
beneath the mists of the horizon.
[Sidenote: WOMANLY INFLUENCE.]
It was a sad return for these brave searchers, who had left the shores
of Scotland with such hope and confidence. To the joyous cries that
had saluted Glenarvan on his return succeeded profound dejection. Each
confined himself to the solitude of his cabin, and rarely appeared on
deck. All, even the loquacious Paganel, were mournful and silent. If
Glenarvan spoke of beginning his search again, the geographer shook
his head like a man who has no more hope, for he seemed convinced as
to the fate of the shipwrecked sailors. Yet there was one man on board
who could have informed them about this catastrophe, but whose silence
was still prolonged. There was no doubt that the rascally Ayrton knew,
if not the actual situation of the captain, at least the place of the
shipwreck. Probably Harry Grant, if found, would be a witness against
him; hence he persisted in his silence, and was greatly enraged,
especially towards the sailors who would accuse him of an evil design.
Several times Glenarvan renewed his attempts with the quartermaster.
Promises and threats were useless. Ayrton's obstinacy was carried
so far, and was so inexplicable, that the major came to the belief
that he knew nothing; which opinion was shared by the geographer and
corroborated his own ideas in regard to Captain Grant.
But if Ayrton knew nothing, why did he not plead his ignorance? It
could not turn against him, while his silence increased the difficulty
of forming a new plan. Ought they to infer the presence of Harry Grant
in Australia from meeting the quartermaster on that continent? At all
events, they must induce Ayrton to explain on this subject.
Lady Helena, seeing her husband's failures, now suggested an attempt,
in her turn, to persuade the quartermaster. Where a man had failed,
perhaps a woman could succeed by her gentle entreaty. Glenarvan,
knowing the tact of his young wife, gave his hearty approval. Ayrton
was, accordingly, brought to Lady Helena's boudoir. Mary Grant was to
be present at the interview, for the young girl's influence might also
be great, and Lady Helena would not neglect any chance of success.
[Illustration: For an hour the two ladies were closeted with the
quartermaster, but nothing resulted from this conference.]
For an hour the two ladies were closeted with the quartermaster, but
nothing resulted from this conference. What they said, the arguments
they used to draw out the convict's secret, all the details of this
examination, remained unknown. Moreover, when Ayrton left them they did
not appear to have succeeded, and their faces betokened real despair.
[Illustration: He contented himself with shrugging his shoulders,
which so increased the rage of the crew, that nothing less than the
intervention of the captain and his lordship could restrain them.]
When the quartermaster was taken back to his cabin, therefore, the
sailors saluted his appearance with violent threats. But he contented
himself with shrugging his shoulders, which so increased the rage of
the crew, that nothing less than the intervention of the captain and
his lordship could restrain them.
But Lady Helena did not consider herself defeated. She wished to
struggle to the last with this heartless man, and the next day she went
herself to Ayrton's cabin, to avoid the scene that his appearance on
deck occasioned.
For two long hours this kind and gentle Scotch lady remained alone face
to face with the chief of the convicts. Glenarvan, a prey to nervous
agitation, lingered near the cabin, now determined to thoroughly
exhaust the chances of success, and now upon the point of drawing his
wife away from this painful and prolonged interview.
But this time, when Lady Helena reappeared, her features inspired
confidence. Had she, then, brought this secret to light, and stirred
the dormant feeling of pity in the heart of this poor creature?
MacNabb, who saw her first, could not repress a very natural feeling
of incredulity. However, the rumor soon spread among the crew that the
quartermaster had at length yielded to Lady Helena's entreaties. All
the sailors assembled on deck more quickly than if Tom Austin's whistle
had summoned them.
"Has he spoken?" asked Lord Glenarvan of his wife.
"No," replied Lady Helena; "but in compliance with my entreaties he
desires to see you."
"Ah, dear Helena, you have succeeded!"
"I hope so, Edward."
"Have you made any promise that I am to sanction?"
"Only one: that you will use all your influence to moderate the fate in
store for him." [Sidenote: VERY BUSINESS-LIKE.]
"Certainly, my dear Helena. Let him come to me immediately."
Lady Helena retired to her cabin, accompanied by Mary Grant, and the
quartermaster was taken to the saloon where Glenarvan awaited him.