Olbinett, acting on Paganel’s advice, lighted his fire to prepare supper in one of these tubular trunks. He found it drew capitally, and the smoke was lost in the dark foliage above. The requisite precautions were taken for the night, and Ayrton, Mulrady, Wilson and John Mangles undertook in turn to keep watch until sunrise.
On the 3d of January, all day long, they came to nothing but the same symmetrical avenues of trees; it seemed as if they never were going to end. However, toward evening the ranks of trees began to thin, and on a little plain a few miles off an assemblage of regular houses.
“Seymour!” cried Paganel; “that is the last town we come to in the province of Victoria.”
“Is it an important one?” asked Lady Helena.
“It is a mere village, madam, but on the way to become a municipality.”
“Shall we find a respectable hotel there?” asked Glenarvan.
“I hope so,” replied Paganel.
“Very well; let us get on to the town, for our fair travelers, with all their courage, will not be sorry, I fancy, to have a good night’s rest.”
“My dear Edward, Mary and I will accept it gladly, but only on the condition that it will cause no delay, or take us the least out of the road.”
“It will do neither,” replied Lord Glenarvan. “Besides, our bullocks are fatigued, and we will start to-morrow at daybreak.”