“I mean that our need is urgent, and that since we cannot go to Twofold Bay, we must go to Melbourne. We have still one horse. Give it to me, my Lord, and I will go to Melbourne.”
“But that will be a dangerous venture, John,” said Glenarvan. “Not to speak of the perils of a journey of two hundred miles over an unknown country, the road and the by-ways will be guarded by the accomplices of Ben Joyce.”
“I know it, my Lord, but I know also that things can’t stay long as they are; Ayrton only asked a week’s absence to fetch the crew of the DUNCAN, and I will be back to the Snowy River in six days. Well, my Lord, what are your commands?”
“Before Glenarvan decides,” said Paganel, “I must make an observation. That some one must go to Melbourne is evident, but that John Mangles should be the one to expose himself to the risk, cannot be. He is the captain of the DUNCAN, and must be careful of his life. I will go instead.”
“That is all very well, Paganel,” said the Major; “but why should you be the one to go?”
“Are we not here?” said Mulrady and Wilson.
“And do you think,” replied McNabbs, “that a journey of two hundred miles on horseback frightens me.”
“Friends,” said Glenarvan, “one of us must go, so let it be decided by drawing lots. Write all our names, Paganel.”
“Not yours, my Lord,” said John Mangles.
“And why not?”