Jules Verne For Children: 16 Incredible Tales of Mystery, Courage & Adventure (Illustrated Edition). Jules Verne
them irrevocably lost.
And yet there was a man on board who could have spoken the decisive word, and refused to break his silence. This was Ayrton. There was no doubt the fellow knew, if not the present whereabouts of the captain, at least the place of shipwreck. But it was evident that were Grant found, he would be a witness against him. Hence his persistent silence, which gave rise to great indignation on board, especially among the crew, who would have liked to deal summarily with him.
Glenarvan repeatedly renewed his attempts with the quartermaster, but promises and threats were alike useless. Ayrton’s obstinacy was so great, and so inexplicable, that the Major began to believe he had nothing to reveal. His opinion was shared, moreover, by the geographer, as it corroborated his own notion about Harry Grant.
But if Ayrton knew nothing, why did he not confess his ignorance? It could not be turned against him. His silence increased the difficulty of forming any new plan. Was the presence of the quartermaster on the Australian continent a proof of Harry Grant’s being there? It was settled that they must get this information out of Ayrton.
Lady Helena, seeing her husband’s ill-success, asked his permission to try her powers against the obstinacy of the quartermaster. When a man had failed, a woman perhaps, with her gentler influence, might succeed. Is there not a constant repetition going on of the story of the fable where the storm, blow as it will, cannot tear the cloak from the shoulders of the traveler, while the first warm rays of sunshine make him throw it off immediately?
Glenarvan, knowing his young wife’s good sense, allowed her to act as she pleased.
The same day (the 5th of March), Ayrton was conducted to Lady Helena’s saloon. Mary Grant was to be present at the interview, for the influence of the young girl might be considerable, and Lady Helena would not lose any chance of success.
For a whole hour the two ladies were closeted with the quartermaster, but nothing transpired about their interview. What had been said, what arguments they used to win the secret from the convict, or what questions were asked, remained unknown; but when they left Ayrton, they did not seem to have succeeded, as the expression on their faces denoted discouragement.
In consequence of this, when the quartermaster was being taken back to his cabin, the sailors met him with violent menaces. He took no notice except by shrugging his shoulders, which so increased their rage, that John Mangles and Glenarvan had to interfere, and could only repress it with difficulty.
But Lady Helena would not own herself vanquished. She resolved to struggle to the last with this pitiless man, and went next day herself to his cabin to avoid exposing him again to the vindictiveness of the crew.
The good and gentle Scotchwoman stayed alone with the convict leader for two long hours. Glenarvan in a state of extreme nervous anxiety, remained outside the cabin, alternately resolved to exhaust completely this last chance of success, alternately resolved to rush in and snatch his wife from so painful a situation.
But this time when Lady Helena reappeared, her look was full of hope. Had she succeeded in extracting the secret, and awakening in that adamant heart a last faint touch of pity?
McNabbs, who first saw her, could not restrain a gesture of incredulity.
However the report soon spread among the sailors that the quartermaster had yielded to the persuasions of Lady Helena. The effect was electrical. The entire crew assembled on deck far quicker than Tom Austin’s whistle could have brought them together.
Glenarvan had hastened up to his wife and eagerly asked:
“Has he spoken?”
“No,” replied Lady Helena, “but he has yielded to my entreaties, and wishes to see you.”
“Ah, dear Helena, you have succeeded!”
“I hope so, Edward.”
“Have you made him any promise that I must ratify?”
“Only one; that you will do all in your power to mitigate his punishment.”
“Very well, dear Helena. Let Ayrton come immediately.”
Lady Helena retired to her cabin with Mary Grant, and the quartermaster was brought into the saloon where Lord Glenarvan was expecting him.
CHAPTER XVIII
A Discouraging Confession
As soon as the quartermaster was brought into the presence of Lord Glenarvan, his keepers withdrew.
“You wanted to speak to me, Ayrton?” said Glenarvan.
“Yes, my Lord,” replied the quartermaster.
“Did you wish for a private interview?”
“Yes, but I think if Major McNabbs and Mr. Paganel were present it would be better.”
“For whom?”
“For myself.”
Ayrton spoke quite calmly and firmly. Glenarvan looked at him for an instant, and then sent to summon McNabbs and Paganel, who came at once.
“We are all ready to listen to you,” said Glenarvan, when his two friends had taken their place at the saloon table.
Ayrton collected himself, for an instant, and then said:
“My Lord, it is usual for witnesses to be present at every contract or transaction between two parties. That is why I desire the presence of Messrs. Paganel and McNabbs, for it is, properly speaking, a bargain which I propose to make.”
Glenarvan, accustomed to Ayrton’s ways, exhibited no surprise, though any bargaining between this man and himself seemed strange.
“What is the bargain?” he said.
“This,” replied Ayrton. “You wish to obtain from me certain facts which may be useful to you. I wish to obtain from you certain advantages which would be valuable to me. It is giving for giving, my Lord. Do you agree to this or not?”
“What are the facts?” asked Paganel eagerly.
“No,” said Glenarvan. “What are the advantages?”
Ayrton bowed in token that he understood Glenarvan’s distinction.
“These,” he said, “are the advantages I ask. It is still your intention, I suppose, to deliver me up to the English authorities?”
“Yes, Ayrton, it is only justice.”
“I don’t say it is not,” replied the quartermaster quietly. “Then of course you would never consent to set me at liberty.”
Glenarvan hesitated before replying to a question so plainly put. On the answer he gave, perhaps the fate of Harry Grant might depend!
However, a feeling of duty toward human justice compelled him to say:
“No, Ayrton, I cannot set you at liberty.”
“I do not ask it,” said the quartermaster proudly.
“Then, what is it you want?”
“A middle place, my Lord, between the gibbet that awaits me and the liberty which you cannot grant me.”
“And that is—”
“To allow me to be left on one of the uninhabited islands of the Pacific, with such things as are absolute necessaries. I will manage as best I can, and will repent if I have time.”
Glenarvan, quite unprepared for such a proposal, looked at his two friends in silence. But after a brief reflection, he replied:
“Ayrton, if I agree to your request, you will tell me all I have an interest in knowing.”
“Yes, my Lord, that is to say, all I know