them to come up, Halbert.”
In a few minutes a girl and boy were shown in. They were evidently brother and sister, for the resemblance was unmistakable. The girl was about sixteen years of age; her tired pretty face, and sorrowful eyes, and resigned but courageous look, as well as her neat though poor attire, made a favorable impression. The boy she held by the hand was about twelve, but his face expressed such determination, that he appeared quite his sister’s protector.
The girl seemed too shy to utter a word at first, but Lady Helena quickly relieved her embarrassment by saying, with an encouraging smile: “You wish to speak to me, I think?”
“No,” replied the boy, in a decided tone; “not to you, but to Lord Glenarvan.”
V. IV Verne
“Excuse him, ma’am,” said the girl, with a look at her brother.
“Lord Glenarvan is not at the castle just now,” returned Lady Helena; “but I am his wife, and if I can do anything for you—”
“You are Lady Glenarvan?” interrupted the girl.
“I am.”
“The wife of Lord Glenarvan, of Malcolm Castle, that put an announcement in the TIMES about the shipwreck of the BRITANNIA?”
“Yes, yes,” said Lady Helena, eagerly; “and you?”
“I am Miss Grant, ma’am, and this is my brother.”
“Miss Grant, Miss Grant!” exclaimed Lady Helena, drawing the young girl toward her, and taking both her hands and kissing the boy’s rosy cheeks.
“What is it you know, ma’am, about the shipwreck? Tell me, is my father living? Shall we ever see him again? Oh, tell me,” said the girl, earnestly.
“My dear child,” replied Lady Helena. “Heaven forbid that I should answer you lightly such a question; I would not delude you with vain hopes.”
“Oh, tell me all, tell me all, ma’am. I’m proof against sorrow. I can bear to hear anything.”
“My poor child, there is but a faint hope; but with the help of almighty Heaven it is just possible you may one day see your father once more.”
The girl burst into tears, and Robert seized Lady Glenarvan’s hand and covered it with kisses.
As soon as they grew calmer they asked a complete string of questions, and Lady Helena recounted the whole story of the document, telling them that their father had been wrecked on the coast of Patagonia, and that he and two sailors, the sole survivors, appeared to have reached the shore, and had written an appeal for help in three languages and committed it to the care of the waves.
During the recital, Robert Grant was devouring the speaker with his eyes, and hanging on her lips. His childish imagination evidently retraced all the scenes of his father’s shipwreck. He saw him on the deck of the BRITANNIA, and then struggling with the billows, then clinging to the rocks, and lying at length exhausted on the beach.
More than once he cried out, “Oh, papa! my poor papa!” and pressed close to his sister.
Miss Grant sat silent and motionless, with clasped hands, and all she said when the narration ended, was: “Oh, ma’am, the paper, please!”
“I have not it now, my dear child,” replied Lady Helena.
“You haven’t it?”
“No. Lord Glenarvan was obliged to take it to London, for the sake of your father; but I have told you all it contained, word for word, and how we managed to make out the complete sense from the fragments of words left—all except the longitude, unfortunately.”
“We can do without that,” said the boy.
“Yes, Mr. Robert,” rejoined Lady Helena, smiling at the child’s decided tone. “And so you see, Miss Grant, you know the smallest details now just as well as I do.”
“Yes, ma’am, but I should like to have seen my father’s writing.”
“Well, tomorrow, perhaps, tomorrow, Lord Glenarvan will be back. My husband determined to lay the document before the Lords of the Admiralty, to induce them to send out a ship immediately in search of Captain Grant.”
“Is it possible, ma’am,” exclaimed the girl, “that you have done that for us?”
“Yes, my dear Miss Grant, and I am expecting Lord Glenarvan back every minute now.”
“Oh, ma’am! Heaven bless you and Lord Glenarvan,” said the young girl, fervently, overcome with grateful emotion.”
“My dear girl, we deserve no thanks; anyone in our place would have done the same. I only trust the hopes we are leading you to entertain may be realized, but till my husband returns, you will remain at the Castle.”
“Oh, no, ma’am. I could not abuse the sympathy you show to strangers.”
“Strangers, dear child!” interrupted Lady Helena; “you and your brother are not strangers in this house, and I should like Lord Glenarvan to be able on his arrival to tell the children of Captain Grant himself, what is going to be done to rescue their father.”
It was impossible to refuse an invitation given with such heart, and Miss Grant and her brother consented to stay till Lord Glenarvan returned.
CHAPTER IV LADY GLENARVAN’S PROPOSAL
LADY HELENA thought it best to say nothing to the children about the fears Lord Glenarvan had expressed in his letters respecting the decisions of the Lords of the Admiralty with regard to the document. Nor did she mention the probable captivity of Captain Grant among the Indians of South America. Why sadden the poor children, and damp their newly cherished hopes? It would not in the least alter the actual state of the case; so not a word was said, and after answering all Miss Grant’s questions, Lady Helena began to interrogate in her turn, asking her about her past life and her present circumstances.
It was a touching, simple story she heard in reply, and one which increased her sympathy for the young girl.
Mary and Robert were the captain’s only children. Harry Grant lost his wife when Robert was born, and during his long voyages he left his little ones in charge of his cousin, a good old lady. Captain Grant was a fearless sailor. He not only thoroughly understood navigation, but commerce also—a twofold qualification eminently useful to skippers in the merchant service. He lived in Dundee, in Perthshire, Scotland. His father, a minister of St. Katrine’s Church, had given him a thorough education, as he believed that could never hurt anybody.
Harry’s voyages were prosperous from the first, and a few years after Robert was born, he found himself possessed of a considerable fortune.
It was then that he projected the grand scheme which made him popular in Scotland. Like Glenarvan, and a few noble families in the Lowlands, he had no heart for the union with England. In his eyes
