A DISCOURAGING CONFESSION.
As soon as the quartermaster was in Lord Glenarvan's presence his
custodians retired.
"You desired to speak to me, Ayrton?" said Glenarvan.
"Yes, my lord," replied he.
"To me alone?"
"Yes; but I think that if Major MacNabb and Mr. Paganel were present at
the interview it would be better."
"For whom?"
"For me."
Ayrton spoke calmly. Glenarvan gazed at him steadily, and then sent
word to MacNabb and Paganel, who at once obeyed his summons.
"We are ready for you," said Glenarvan, as soon as his two friends were
seated at the cabin-table.
Ayrton reflected for a few moments, and then said:
"My lord, it is customary for witnesses to be present at every contract
or negotiation between two parties. That is why I requested the
presence of Mr. Paganel and Major MacNabb; for, properly speaking, this
is a matter of business that I am going to propose to you."
Glenarvan, who was accustomed to Ayrton's manners, betrayed no
surprise, although a matter of business between this man and himself
seemed strange.
[Illustration: "Do you agree or not?"]
[Sidenote: BARGAINING FOR TERMS.]
"What is this business?" said he.
"This is it," replied Ayrton. "You desire to know from me certain
circumstances which may be useful to you. I desire to obtain from you
certain advantages which will be valuable to me. Now, I will make an
exchange, my lord. Do you agree or not?"
"What are these circumstances?" asked Paganel, quickly.
"No," corrected Glenarvan: "what are these advantages?"
Ayrton bowed, showing that he understood the distinction.
"These," said he, "are the advantages for which I petition. You
still intend, my lord, to deliver me into the hands of the English
authorities?"
"Yes, Ayrton; it is only justice."
"I do not deny it," replied the quartermaster. "You would not consent,
then, to set me at liberty?"
Glenarvan hesitated before answering a question so plainly asked.
Perhaps the fate of Harry Grant depended upon what he was about to say.
However, the feeling of duty towards humanity prevailed, and he said:
"No, Ayrton, I cannot set you at liberty."
"I do not ask it," replied the quartermaster, proudly.
"What do you wish, then?"
"An intermediate fate, my lord, between that which you think awaits me
and the liberty that you cannot grant me."
"And that is----?"
"To abandon me on one of the desert islands of the Pacific, with the
principal necessaries of life. I will manage as I can, and repent, if I
have time."
Glenarvan, who was little prepared for this proposal, glanced at his
two friends, who remained silent. After a few moments of reflection, he
replied:
"Ayrton, if I grant your request, will you tell me all that it is for
my interest to know?"
"Yes, my lord; that is to say, all that I know concerning Captain Grant
and the Britannia."
"The whole truth?"
"The whole."
"But who will warrant----?"
"Oh, I see what troubles you, my lord. You do not like to trust to
me,--to the word of a malefactor! That is right. But what can you do?
The situation is thus. You have only to accept or refuse."
"I will trust you, Ayrton," said Glenarvan, simply.
"And you will be right, my lord. Moreover, if I deceive you, you will
always have the power to revenge yourself."
"How?"
"By recapturing me on this island, from which I shall not be able to
escape."
Ayrton had a reply for everything. He met all difficulties, and
produced unanswerable arguments against himself. As was seen, he
strove to treat in his business with good faith. It was impossible for
a person to surrender with more perfect confidence, and yet he found
means to advance still further in this disinterested course.
"My lord and gentlemen," added he, "I desire that you should be
convinced that I am honorable. I do not seek to deceive you, but am
going to give you a new proof of my sincerity in this affair. I act
frankly, because I rely upon your loyalty."
"Go on, Ayrton," replied Glenarvan.
"My lord, I have not yet your promise to agree to my proposition, and
still I do not hesitate to tell you that I know little concerning Harry
Grant."
"Little!" cried Glenarvan.
"Yes, my lord; the circumstances that I am able to communicate to
you are relative to myself. They are personal experiences, and will
scarcely tend to put you on the track you have lost."
[Sidenote: REVELATIONS AND DISCLOSURES.]
A keen disappointment was manifest on the features of Glenarvan and
the major. They had believed the quartermaster to possess an important
secret, and yet he now confessed that his disclosures would be almost
useless.
However that may be, this avowal of Ayrton, who surrendered himself
without security, singularly affected his hearers, especially when he
added, in conclusion:
"Thus you are forewarned, my lord, that the business will be less
advantageous for you than for me."
"No matter," replied Glenarvan; "I accept your proposal, Ayrton. You
have my word that you shall be landed at one of the islands of the
Pacific."
"Very well, my lord," said he.
Was this strange man pleased with this decision? You might have doubted
it, for his impassive countenance betrayed no emotion. He seemed as if
acting for another more than for himself.
"I am ready to answer," continued he.
"We have no questions to ask you," rejoined Glenarvan. "Tell us what
you know, Ayrton, and, in the first place, who you are."
"Gentlemen," replied he, "I am really Tom Ayrton, quartermaster of the
Britannia. I left Glasgow in Captain Grant's ship on the 12th of March,
1861. For fourteen months we traversed together the Pacific, seeking
some favorable place to found a Scottish colony. Harry Grant was a man
capable of performing great deeds, but frequently serious disputes
arose between us. His character did not harmonize with mine. I could
not yield; but with Harry Grant, when his resolution is taken, all
resistance is impossible. He is like iron towards himself and others.
However, I dared to mutiny, and attempted to involve the crew and gain
possession of the vessel. Whether I did right or wrong is of little
importance. However it may be, Captain Grant did not hesitate to land
me, April 8, 1862, on the west coast of Australia."
"Australia!" exclaimed the major, interrupting Ayrton's story. "Then
you left the Britannia before her arrival at Callao, where the last
news of her was dated?"
"Yes," replied the quartermaster; "for the Britannia never stopped at
Callao while I was on board. If I spoke of Callao at O'Moore's farm, it
was your story that gave me this information."
"Go on, Ayrton," said Glenarvan.
[Sidenote: MORE BLANKS THAN PRIZES.]
"I found myself, therefore, abandoned on an almost desert coast, but
only twenty miles from the penitentiary of Perth, the capital of
Western Australia. Wandering along the shore, I met a band of convicts
who had just escaped. I joined them. You will spare me, my lord, the
account of my life for two years and a half. It is enough to know that
I became chief of the runaways, under the name of Ben Joyce. In the
month of September, 1864, I made my appearance at the Irishman's farm,
and was received as a servant under my true name of Ayrton. Here I
waited till an opportunity should be offered to gain possession of a
vessel. This was my great object. Two months later the Duncan arrived.
During your visit at the farm you related, my lord, the whole story of
Captain Grant. I then learned what I had not known, the Britannia's
stoppage at Callao, the last news of her, dated June, 1862, two months
after my abandonment, the finding of the document, the shipwreck of the
vessel, and finally the important reasons you had for seeking Captain
Grant in Australia. I did not hesitate, but resolved to appropriate
the Duncan,--a marvelous ship, that would have distanced the best of
the British navy. However, there were serious injuries to be repaired.
I therefore let her start for Melbourne, and offered myself to you in
my real character of quartermaster, volunteering to guide you to the
scene of the shipwreck, which I falsely located on the eastern coast
of Australia. Thus followed at a distance and sometimes preceded by
my band of convicts, I conducted your party across the province of
Victoria. My companions committed a useless crime at Camden Bridge,
since the Duncan, once at Twofold Bay, could not have escaped me, and
with it I should have been master of the ocean. I brought you thus
unsuspectingly as far as the Snowy River. The horses and oxen fell dead
one by one, poisoned by the gastrolobium. I entangled the cart in the
marshes. At my suggestion----but you know the rest, my lord, and can
be certain that, except for Mr. Paganel's absent-mindedness, I should
now be commander on board the Duncan. Such is my story, gentlemen. My
disclosures, unfortunately, cannot set you on the track of Captain
Grant, and you see that in dealing with me you have made a bad bargain."
The quartermaster ceased, crossed his arms, according to his custom,
and waited. Glenarvan and his friends were silent. They felt that this
strange criminal had told the entire truth. The capture of the Duncan
had only failed through a cause altogether beyond his control. His
accomplices had reached Twofold Bay, as the convict's blouse, found by
Glenarvan, proved. There, faithful to the orders of their chief, they
had lain in wait for the yacht, and at last, tired of watching, they
had doubtless resumed their occupation of plunder and burning in the
fields of New South Wales.
The major was the first to resume the examination, in order to
determine the dates relative to the Britannia.
"It was the 8th of April, 1862, then, that you were landed on the west
coast of Australia?" he asked of the quartermaster.
"Exactly," replied Ayrton.
"And do you know what Captain Grant's plans were then?"
"Vaguely."
"Continue, Ayrton," said Glenarvan. "The least sign may set us on the
track."
"What I can say is this, my lord. Captain Grant intended to visit New
Zealand. But this part of his programme was not carried out while I was
on board. The Britannia might, therefore, after leaving Callao, have
gained the shores of New Zealand. This would agree with the date, June
27, 1862, given in the document as the time of the shipwreck."
"Evidently," remarked Paganel.
"But," added Glenarvan, "there is nothing in these half-obliterated
portions of the document which can apply to New Zealand."
"That I cannot answer," said the quartermaster.
"Well, Ayrton," continued Glenarvan, "you have kept your word, and I
will keep mine. We will decide on what island of the Pacific you shall
be abandoned."
"Oh, it matters little to me," answered Ayrton.
"Return to your cabin now, and await our decision."
The quartermaster retired, under guard of the two sailors.
"This villain might have been a great man," observed the major.
"Yes," replied Glenarvan. "He has a strong and self-reliant character.
Why must his abilities be devoted to crime?"
"But Harry Grant?"
"I fear that he is forever lost! Poor children! who could tell them
where their father is?"
"I!" cried Paganel.
As we have remarked, the geographer, although so loquacious and
excitable usually, had scarcely spoken during Ayrton's examination. He
had listened in total silence. But this last word that he had uttered
was worth more than all the others, and startled Glenarvan at once.
"You, Paganel!" he exclaimed; "do you know where Captain Grant is?"
"As well as can be known," answered the geographer.
"And how do you know?"
"By that everlasting document."
[Sidenote: A GEOGRAPHER'S REMINISCENCES.]
"Ah!" said the major, in a tone of the most thorough incredulity.
"Listen first, MacNabb, and shrug your shoulders afterwards. I did
not speak before, because you would not have believed me. Besides, it
was useless. But if I speak to-day, it is because Ayrton's opinion
corroborates mine."
"Then New Zealand----?" asked Glenarvan.
"Hear and judge," replied Paganel. "I did not commit the blunder
that saved us, without reason. Just as I was writing that letter
at Glenarvan's dictation, the word Zealand was troubling my brain.
You remember that we were in the cart. MacNabb had just told Lady
Helena the story of the convicts, and had handed her the copy of the
_Australian and New Zealand Gazette_ that gave an account of the
accident at Camden Bridge. As I was writing, the paper lay on the
ground, folded so that only two syllables of its title could be seen,
and these were _aland_. What a light broke in upon my mind! 'Aland'
was one of the very words in the English document,--a word that we had
hitherto translated _ashore_, but which was the termination of the
proper name Zealand."
"Ha!" cried Glenarvan.
"Yes," continued Paganel, with profound conviction, "this
interpretation had escaped me, and do you know why? Because my
examinations were naturally confined more particularly to the French
document, where this important word was wanting."
"Ho! ho!" laughed the major, "that is too much imagination, Paganel.
You forget your previous conclusions rather easily."
"Well, major, I am ready to answer you."
"Then what becomes of your word _austral_?"
"It is what it was at first. It simply means the southern (_australes_)
countries."
"Very well. But that word _indi_, that was first the root of Indians
(_indiens_), and then of natives (_indigènes_)?"
"The third and last time, it shall be the first two syllables of the
word _indigence_ (destitution)."
"And _contin_!" cried MacNabb; "does it still signify _continent_?"
"No, since New Zealand is only an island."
"Then?" inquired Glenarvan.
"My dear lord," replied Paganel, "I will translate the document for
you, according to my third interpretation, and you shall judge. I only
make two suggestions. First, forget as far as possible the previous
interpretations; and next, although certain passages will seem to you
forced, and I may translate them wrongly, still, remember that they
have no special importance. Moreover, the French document serves as the
basis of my interpretation, and you must consider that it was written
by an Englishman who could not have been perfectly familiar with the
idioms of our language."
So saying, Paganel, slowly pronouncing each syllable, read the
following:
"On the 27th of June, 1862, the brig Britannia, of Glasgow, foundered,
after a long struggle (_agonie_), in the South (_australes_) Seas, on
the coasts of New Ze_aland_. Two sailors and Captain Grant succeeded
in landing (_abor_der). Here, continually (_contin_uellement) a prey
(_pr_oie) to a cruel (_cruel_le) destitution (_indi_gence), they cast
this document into the sea, at longitude ---- and latitude 37° 11'.
Come to their assistance, or they are lost."
Paganel stopped. His interpretation was admissible. But, although
it appeared as probable as the other, still it might be as false.
Glenarvan and the major therefore no longer attempted to dispute it.
However, since the traces of the Britannia had not been encountered on
the coasts of Patagonia or Australia, the chances were in favor of New
Zealand.
"Now, Paganel," said Glenarvan, "will you tell me why, for about two
months, you kept this interpretation secret?"
[Sidenote: UNANIMITY IN DESPAIR.]
"Because I did not wish to give you vain hopes. Besides, we were going
to Auckland, which is on the very latitude of the document."
"But afterwards, when we were taken out of our course, why did you not
speak?"
"Because, however just this interpretation may be, it cannot contribute
to the captain's rescue."
"Why, Paganel?"
"Because, admitting that Captain Grant was wrecked on the coast of New
Zealand, as long as he has not made his appearance for two years since
the disaster, he must have fallen a victim to the sea or the savages."
"Then your opinion is----?" asked Glenarvan.
"That we might perhaps find some traces of the shipwreck, but that the
seamen of the Britannia have perished."
"Keep all this silent, my friends," replied Glenarvan, "and leave me to
choose the time for telling this sad news to the children of Captain
Grant."