.
employ your time usefully. This archipelago is still but little known.”
“You can go up the large rivers,” suggested Lady Helena.
“There are none, madam.”
“Well, then, the small ones.”
“There are none, madam.”
“The running brooks, then.”
“There are no brooks, either.”
“You can console yourself with the forests if that’s the case,” put in the Major.
“You can’t make forests without trees, and there are no trees.”
“A charming country!” said the Major.
“Comfort yourself, my dear Paganel, you’ll have the mountains at any rate,” said Glenarvan.
“Oh, they are neither lofty nor interesting, my Lord, and, beside, they have been described already.”
“Already!” said Lord Glenarvan.
“Yes, that is always my luck. At the Canary Islands, I saw myself anticipated by Humboldt, and here by M. Charles Sainte-Claire Deville, a geologist.”
“Impossible!”
“It is too true,” replied Paganel, in a doleful voice. “Monsieur Deville was on board the government corvette, La Decidee, when she touched at the Cape Verde Islands, and he explored the most interesting of the group, and went to the top of the volcano in Isle Fogo. What is left for me to do after him?”
“It is really a great pity,” said Helena. “What will become of you, Monsieur Paganel?”
Paganel remained silent.
“You would certainly have done much better to have landed at Madeira, even though there had been no wine,” said Glenarvan.
Still the learned secretary was silent.
“I should wait,” said the Major, just as if he had said, “I should not wait.”
Paganel spoke again at length, and said:
“My dear Glenarvan, where do you mean to touch next?”
“At Concepcion.”
“Plague it! That is a long way out of the road to India.”
“Not it! From the moment you pass Cape Horn, you are getting nearer to it.”
“I doubt it much.”
“Beside,” resumed Lord Glenarvan, with perfect gravity, “when people are going to the Indies it doesn’t matter much whether it is to the East or West.”
“What! it does not matter much?”
“Without taking into account the fact that the inhabitants of the Pampas in Patagonia are as much Indians as the natives of the Punjaub.”
“Well done, my Lord. That’s a reason that would never have entered my head!”
“And then, my dear Paganel, you can gain the gold medal anyway. There is as much to be done, and sought, and investigated, and discovered in the Cordilleras as in the mountains of Thibet.”
“But the course of the Yarou-Dzangbo-Tchou—what about that?”
“Go up the Rio Colorado instead. It is a river but little known, and its course on the map is marked out too much according to the fancy of geographers.”
“I know it is, my dear Lord; they have made grave mistakes. Oh, I make no question that the Geographical Society would have sent me to Patagonia as soon as to India, if I had sent in a request to that effect. But I never thought of it.”
“Just like you.”
“Come, Monsieur Paganel, will you go with us?” asked Lady Helena, in her most winning tone.
“Madam, my mission?”
“We shall pass through the Straits of Magellan, I must tell you,” said Lord Glenarvan.
“My Lord, you are a tempter.”
“Let me add, that we shall visit Port Famine.”
“Port Famine!” exclaimed the Frenchman, besieged on all sides. “That famous port in French annals!”
“Think, too, Monsieur Paganel, that by taking part in our enterprise, you will be linking France with Scotland.”
“Undoubtedly.”
“A geographer would be of much use to our expedition, and what can be nobler than to bring science to the service of humanity?”
“That’s well said, madam.”
“Take my advice, then, and yield to chance, or rather providence. Follow our example. It was providence that sent us the document, and we set out in consequence. The same providence brought you on board the DUNCAN. Don’t leave her.”
“Shall I say yes, my good friends? Come, now, tell me, you want me very much to stay, don’t you?” said Paganel.
“And you’re dying to stay, now, aren’t you, Paganel?” returned Glenarvan.
“That’s about it,” confessed the learned geographer; “but I was afraid it would be inconsiderate.”
CHAPTER IX
Through the Straits of Magellan
THE joy on board was universal when Paganel’s resolution was made known.
Little Robert flung himself on his neck in such tumultuous delight that he nearly threw the worthy secretary down, and made him say, “Rude petit bonhomme. I’ll teach him geography.”
Robert bade fair to be an accomplished gentleman some day, for John Mangles was to make a sailor of him, and the Major was to teach him sang-froid, and Glenarvan and Lady Helena were to instil into him courage and goodness and generosity, while Mary was to inspire him with gratitude toward such instructors.
The DUNCAN soon finished taking in coal, and turned her back on the dismal region. She fell in before long with the current from the coast of Brazil, and on the 7th of September entered the Southern hemisphere.
So far, then, the voyage had been made without difficulty. Everybody was full of hope, for in this search for Captain Grant, each day seemed to increase the probability of finding him. The captain was among the most confident on board, but his confidence mainly arose from the longing desire he had to see Miss Mary happy. He was smitten with quite a peculiar interest for this young girl, and managed to conceal his sentiments so well that everyone on board saw it except himself and Mary Grant.
As for the learned geographer, he was probably the happiest man in all the southern hemisphere. He spent the whole day in studying maps, which were spread out on the saloon table, to the great annoyance of M. Olbinett, who could never get the cloth laid for meals, without disputes on the subject. But all the passengers took his part except the Major, who was perfectly indifferent about geographical questions, especially at dinnertime. Paganel also came across a regular cargo of old books in the chief officer’s chest. They were in a very damaged condition, but among them he raked out a few Spanish volumes, and determined forthwith to set to work to master the language of Cer-vantes, as no one on board understood it, and it would be helpful in their search along the Chilian coast. Thanks to his taste for languages, he did not despair of being able to speak the language fluently when they arrived at Concepcion. He studied it furiously, and kept constantly muttering heterogeneous syllables.
He spent his leisure hours in teaching young Robert, and instructed him in the history of the country they were so rapidly approaching.
On