“Just so; my letter was brought by a convict called Ben Joyce.”
“No, by a sailor called Ayrton, a quartermaster on the BRITANNIA.”
“Yes, Ayrton or Ben Joyce, one and the same individual. Well, and what were the contents of this letter?”
“It contained orders to leave Melbourne without delay, and go and cruise on the eastern coast of—”
“Australia!” said Glenarvan with such vehemence that the old sailor was somewhat disconcerted.
“Of Australia?” repeated Tom, opening his eyes. “No, but New Zealand.”
“Australia, Tom! Australia!” they all cried with one voice.
Austin’s head began to feel in a whirl. Glenarvan spoke with such assurance that he thought after all he must have made a mistake in reading the letter. Could a faithful, exact old servant like himself have been guilty of such a thing! He turned red and looked quite disturbed.
“Never mind, Tom,” said Lady Helena. “God so willed it.”
“But, no, madam, pardon me,” replied old Tom. “No, it is impossible, I was not mistaken. Ayrton read the letter as I did, and it was he, on the contrary, who wished to bring me to the Australian coast.”