Part 37 (1/2)

All at once the thought rushed across him that Paganel said he was a nyctalope, and could see at night. He must go and wake him.

The learned geographer was sleeping as sound as a mole. A strong arm pulled him up out of the sand and made him call out:

”Who goes there?”

”It is I, Paganel.”

”Who?”

”Glenarvan. Come, I need your eyes.”

”My eyes,” replied Paganel, rubbing them vigorously.

”Yes, I need your eyes to make out the DUNCAN in this darkness, so come.”

”Confound the nyctalopia!” said Paganel, inwardly, though delighted to be of any service to his friend.

He got up and shook his stiffened limbs, and stretching and yawning as most people do when roused from sleep, followed Glenarvan to the beach.

Glenarvan begged him to examine the distant horizon across the sea, which he did most conscientiously for some minutes.

”Well, do you see nothing?” asked Glenarvan.

”Not a thing. Even a cat couldn't see two steps before her.”

”Look for a red light or a green one--her larboard or starboard light.”

”I see neither a red nor a green light, all is pitch dark,” replied Paganel, his eyes involuntarily beginning to close.

For half an hour he followed his impatient friend, mechanically letting his head frequently drop on his chest, and raising it again with a start. At last he neither answered nor spoke, and he reeled about like a drunken man. Glenarvan looked at him, and found he was sound asleep!

Without attempting to wake him, he took his arm, led him back to his hole, and buried him again comfortably.

At dawn next morning, all the slumberers started to their feet and rushed to the sh.o.r.e, shouting ”Hurrah, hurrah!” as Lord Glenarvan's loud cry, ”The DUNCAN, the DUNCAN!” broke upon his ear.

There she was, five miles out, her courses carefully reefed, and her steam half up. Her smoke was lost in the morning mist. The sea was so violent that a vessel of her tonnage could not have ventured safely nearer the sand-banks.

Glenarvan, by the aid of Paganel's telescope, closely observed the movements of the yacht. It was evident that John Mangles had not perceived his pa.s.sengers, for he continued his course as before.

But at this very moment Thalcave fired his carbine in the direction of the yacht. They listened and looked, but no signal of recognition was returned. A second and a third time the Indian fired, awakening the echoes among the sand-hills.

At last a white smoke was seen issuing from the side of the yacht.

”They see us!” exclaimed Glenarvan. ”That's the cannon of the DUNCAN.”

A few seconds, and the heavy boom of the cannon came across the water and died away on the sh.o.r.e. The sails were instantly altered, and the steam got up, so as to get as near the coast as possible.

Presently, through the gla.s.s, they saw a boat lowered.

”Lady Helena will not be able to come,” said Tom Austin. ”It is too rough.”