Olbinett chanced to be passing that minute on his way from the galley, and what was his astonishment at hearing himself addressed like this by a lanky individual of whom he had no knowledge whatever.
"Where can he have come from? Who is he?" he thought to himself. "He can not possibly be one of Lord Glenarvan's friends?"
However, he went up on the poop, and approached the unknown personage, who accosted him with the inquiry, "Are you the steward of this vessel?"
"Yes, sir," replied Olbinett; "but I have not the honor of—"
"I am the passenger in cabin Number 6."
"Number 6!" repeated the steward.
"Certainly; and your name, what is it?"
"Olbinett."
"Well, Olbinett, my friend, we must think of breakfast, and that pretty quickly. It is thirty-six hours since I have had anything to eat, or rather thirty-six hours that I have been asleep—pardonable enough in a man who came all the way, without stopping, from Paris to Glasgow. What is the breakfast hour?"
"Nine o'clock," replied Olbinett, mechanically.
The stranger tried to pull out his watch to see the time; but it was not till he had rummaged through the ninth pocket that he found it.
"Ah, well," he said, "it is only eight o'clock at present. Fetch me a glass of sherry and a biscuit while I am waiting, for I am actually falling through sheer inanition."
Olbinett heard him without understanding what he meant for the voluble stranger kept on talking incessantly, flying from one subject to another.
"The captain? Isn't the captain up yet? And the chief officer? What is he doing? Is he asleep still? It is fine weather, fortunately, and the wind is favorable, and the ship goes all alone."
Just at that moment John Mangles appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Here is the captain!" said Olbinett.
"Ah! delighted, Captain Burton, delighted to make your acquaintance," exclaimed the unknown.
John Mangles stood stupefied, as much at seeing the stranger on board as at hearing himself called "Captain Burton."
But the new comer went on in the most affable manner.
"Allow me to shake hands with you, sir; and if I did not do so yesterday evening, it was only because I did not wish to be troublesome when you were starting. But to-day, captain, it gives me great pleasure to begin my intercourse with you."
John Mangles opened his eyes as wide as possible, and stood staring at Olbinett and the stranger alternately.
But without waiting for a reply, the rattling fellow continued:
"Now the introduction is made, my dear captain, we are old friends. Let's have a little talk, and tell me how you like the SCOTIA?"
"What do you mean by the SCOTIA?" put in John Mangles at last.
"By the SCOTIA? Why, the ship we're on, of course—a good ship that has been commended to me, not only for its physical qualities, but also for the moral qualities of its commander, the brave Captain Burton. You will be some relation of the famous African traveler of that name. A daring man he was, sir. I offer you my congratulations."
"Sir," interrupted John. "I am not only no relation of Burton the great traveler, but I am not even Captain Burton."
"Ah, is that so? It is Mr. Burdness, the chief officer, that I am talking to at present."
"Mr. Burdness!" repeated John Mangles, beginning to suspect how the matter stood. Only he asked himself whether the man was mad, or some heedless rattle pate? He was beginning to explain the case in a categorical manner, when Lord Glenarvan and his party came up on the poop. The stranger caught sight of them directly, and exclaimed:
"Ah! the passengers, the passengers! I hope you are going to introduce me to them, Mr. Burdness!"
But he could not wait for any one's intervention, and going up to them with perfect ease and grace, said, bowing to Miss Grant, "Madame;" then to Lady Helena, with another bow, "Miss;" and to Lord Glenarvan, "Sir."
Here John Mangles interrupted him, and said, "Lord Glenarvan."
"My Lord," continued the unknown, "I beg pardon for presenting myself to you, but at sea it is well to relax the strict rules of etiquette a little. I hope we shall soon become acquainted with each other, and that the company of these ladies will make our voyage in the SCOTIA appear as short as agreeable."
Lady Helena and Miss Grant were too astonished to be able to utter a single word. The presence of this intruder on the poop of the DUNCAN was perfectly inexplicable.
Lord Glenarvan was more collected, and said, "Sir, to whom have I the honor of speaking?"
"To Jacques Eliacin Francois Marie Paganel, Secretary of the Geographical Society of Paris, Corresponding Member of the Societies of Berlin, Bombay, Darmstadt, Leipsic, London, St. Petersburg, Vienna, and New York; Honorary Member of the Royal Geographical and Ethnographical Institute of the East Indies; who, after having spent twenty years of his life in geographical work in the study, wishes to see active service, and is on his way to India to gain for the science what information he can by following up the footsteps of great travelers."
Chapter VII.
Jacques Paganel is Undeceived
THE Secretary of the Geographical Society was evidently an amiable personage, for all this was said in a most charming manner. Lord Glenarvan knew quite well who he was now, for he had often heard Paganel spoken of, and was aware of his merits. His geographical works, his papers on modern discoveries, inserted in the reports of the Society, and his world-wide correspondence, gave him a most distinguished place among the LITERATI of France.
Lord Glenarvan could not but welcome such a guest, and shook hands cordially.
"And now that our introductions are over," he added, "you will allow me, Monsieur Paganel, to ask you a question?"
"Twenty, my Lord," replied Paganel; "it will always be a pleasure to converse with you."
"Was it last evening that you came on board this vessel?"
"Yes, my Lord, about 8 o'clock. I jumped into a cab at the Caledonian Railway, and from the cab into the SCOTIA, where I had booked my cabin before I left Paris. It was a dark night, and I saw no one on board, so I found cabin No. 6, and went to my berth immediately, for I had heard that the best way to prevent sea-sickness is to go to bed as soon as you start, and not to stir for the first few days; and, moreover, I had been traveling for thirty hours. So I tucked myself in, and slept conscientiously, I assure you, for thirty-six hours."
Paganel's listeners understood the whole mystery, now, of his presence on the DUNCAN. The French traveler had mistaken his vessel, and gone on board while the crew were attending the service at St. Mungo's. All was explained. But what would the learned geographer say, when he heard the name and destination of the ship, in which he had taken passage?
"Then it is Calcutta, M. Paganel, that you have chosen as your point of departure on your travels?"
"Yes,
