“And what are they, captain?” asked Glenarvan. “Speak, for our amour propre is wounded to the quick!”
“I am ready to satisfy you,” replied Harry Grant; “but, you know, to multiply the chances of safety, I had inclosed three documents in the bottle, in three different languages. Which is it you wish to hear?”
“They are not identical, then?” cried Paganel.
“Yes, they are, almost to a word.”
“Well, then, let us have the French document,” replied Glenarvan. “That is the one that is most respected by the waves, and the one on which our interpretations have been mostly founded.”
“My Lord, I will give it you word for word,” replied Harry Grant.
“LE 27 JUIN, 1862, le trois-mats Britannia, de Glasgow, s’est perdu a quinze cents lieues de la Patagonie, dans l’hemisphere austral. Partes a terre, deux matelots et le Capitaine Grant ont atteint l’ile Tabor—”
“Oh!” exclaimed Paganel.
“LA,” continued Harry Grant, “continuellement en proie a une cruelle indigence, ils ont jete ce document par 153 degrees de longitude et 37 degrees 11’ de latitude. Venes a leur secours, ou ils sont perdus.”
At the name of Tabor, Paganel had started up hastily, and now being unable to restrain himself longer, he called out: