Part 88 (1/2)

AYRTON came. He crossed the deck with a confident tread, and mounted the steps to the p.o.o.p. His eyes were gloomy, his teeth set, his fists clenched convulsively. His appearance betrayed neither effrontery nor timidity. When he found himself in the presence of Lord Glenarvan he folded his arms and awaited the questions calmly and silently.

”Ayrton,” said Glenarvan, ”here we are then, you and us, on this very DUNCAN that you wished to deliver into the hands of the convicts of Ben Joyce.”

The lips of the quartermaster trembled slightly and a quick flush suffused his impa.s.sive features. Not the flush of remorse, but of shame at failure. On this yacht which he thought he was to command as master, he was a prisoner, and his fate was about to be decided in a few seconds.

However, he made no reply. Glenarvan waited patiently. But Ayrton persisted in keeping absolute silence.

”Speak, Ayrton, what have you to say?” resumed Glenarvan.

Ayrton hesitated, the wrinkles in his forehead deepened, and at length he said in calm voice:

”I have nothing to say, my Lord. I have been fool enough to allow myself to be caught. Act as you please.”

Then he turned his eyes away toward the coast which lay on the west, and affected profound indifference to what was pa.s.sing around him. One would have thought him a stranger to the whole affair. But Glenarvan was determined to be patient. Powerful motives urged him to find out certain details concerning the mysterious life of Ayrton, especially those which related to Harry Grant and the BRITANNIA. He therefore resumed his interrogations, speaking with extreme gentleness and firmly restraining his violent irritation against him.

”I think, Ayrton,” he went on, ”that you will not refuse to reply to certain questions that I wish to put to you; and, first of all, ought I to call you Ayrton or Ben Joyce? Are you, or are you not, the quartermaster of the BRITANNIA?”

Ayrton remained impa.s.sive, gazing at the coast, deaf to every question.

Glenarvan's eyes kindled, as he said again:

”Will you tell me how you left the BRITANNIA, and why you are in Australia?”

The same silence, the same impa.s.sibility.

”Listen to me, Ayrton,” continued Glenarvan; ”it is to your interest to speak. Frankness is the only resource left to you, and it may stand you in good stead. For the last time, I ask you, will you reply to my questions?”

Ayrton turned his head toward Glenarvan, and looked into his eyes.

”My Lord,” he said, ”it is not for me to answer. Justice may witness against me, but I am not going to witness against myself.”

”Proof will be easy,” said Glenarvan.

”Easy, my Lord,” repeated Ayrton, in a mocking tone. ”Your honor makes rather a bold a.s.sertion there, it seems to me. For my own part, I venture to affirm that the best judge in the Temple would be puzzled what to make of me. Who will say why I came to Australia, when Captain Grant is not here to tell? Who will prove that I am the Ben Joyce placarded by the police, when the police have never had me in their hands, and my companions are at liberty? Who can damage me except yourself, by bringing forward a single crime against me, or even a blameable action? Who will affirm that I intended to take possession of this s.h.i.+p and deliver it into the hands of the convicts? No one, I tell you, no one. You have your suspicions, but you need certainties to condemn a man, and certainties you have none. Until there is a proof to the contrary, I am Ayrton, quartermaster of the BRITANNIA.”

Ayrton had become animated while he was speaking, but soon relapsed into his former indifference.

He, no doubt, expected that his reply would close the examination, but Glenarvan commenced again, and said:

”Ayrton, I am not a Crown prosecutor charged with your indictment. That is no business of mine. It is important that our respective situations should be clearly defined. I am not asking you anything that could compromise you. That is for justice to do. But you know what I am searching for, and a single word may put me on the track I have lost.

Will you speak?”

Ayrton shook his head like a man determined to be silent.

”Will you tell me where Captain Grant is?” asked Glenarvan.

”No, my Lord,” replied Ayrton.

”Will you tell me where the BRITANNIA was wrecked?”