But Harry Grant would not be discouraged. He appealed to the patriotism of his countrymen, gave his fortune to serve the cause, built a vessel and furnished it with a fine crew, confided his children to the care of his old cousin, and set sail to explore the great islands of the Pacific.
It was the year 1861. Until May, 1862, they had received news of him, but since his departure from Callao, in the month of June, no one had heard anything of the Britannia, and the marine intelligencers became silent concerning the fate of the captain.
At this juncture of affairs the old cousin of Harry Grant died, and the two children were left alone in the world. Mary Grant was then fourteen. Her courageous soul did not flinch at the situation that was presented, but she devoted herself entirely to her brother, who was still a child. She must bring him up and instruct him. By dint of economy, prudence, and sagacity, laboring night and day, sacrificing all for him, denying herself everything, the sister succeeded in educating her brother and bravely fulfilled her sisterly duties.
The two children lived thus at Dundee, and valiantly overcame their sorrowful and lonely circumstances. Mary thought only of her brother, and dreamed of a happy future for him. As for herself, alas! the Britannia was lost forever, and her father dead! We must not, therefore, attempt to depict her emotion when the advertisement in the Times accidentally met her eye, and suddenly raised her from her despair.
It was no time to hesitate. Her resolution was immediately taken. Even if she should learn that her father’s dead body had been found on a desert coast, or in the hull of a shipwrecked vessel, it was better than this continual doubt, this eternal torment of uncertainty. She told her brother all; and the same day the two children took the Perth Railroad, and at evening arrived at Malcolm Castle, where Mary, after so many harassing thoughts, began to hope.
Such was the sorrowful story that the young girl related to Lady Glenarvan, in an artless manner, without thinking that through all those long years of trial she had behaved herself like an heroic daughter. But Lady Helena thought of this, and several times, without hiding her tears, she clasped in her arms the two children of Captain Grant.
As for Robert, it seemed as if he heard this story for the first time: for he opened his eyes in astonishment, as he listened to his sister; comprehended what she had done, what she had suffered; and at last, encircling her with his arms, he exclaimed, unable longer to restrain the cry that came from the very depths of his heart—
“Oh, mamma! my dear mamma!”
Night had now fully set in; and Lady Helena, remembering the fatigue of the two children, would not longer continue the conversation. Mary and Robert were conducted to their chambers, and fell asleep dreaming of a brighter future.
After they had retired, Lady Helena saw the major, and told him all the events of the day.
“That Mary Grant is a brave girl,” said MacNabb, when he had heard his cousin’s story.
“May Heaven grant my husband success in his enterprise!” replied Lady Helena; “for the situation of the two children would be terrible!”
“He will succeed,” answered MacNabb, “or the hearts of the authorities must be harder than the stone of Portland.”
In spite of the major’s assurance, Lady Helena passed the night in the greatest anxiety, and could scarce gain an hour’s repose.
The next morning Mary and her brother rose at daybreak, and were walking in the galleries and water terraces of the castle, when the sound of a coach was heard in the great courtyard. It was Lord Glenarvan returning to Malcolm Castle at the full speed of his horses. Almost immediately Lady Helena, accompanied by the major, appeared in the courtyard, and flew to meet her husband. But he seemed sad, disappointed, and angry. He clasped his wife in his arms, and was silent.
“Well, Edward!” she exclaimed.
“Well, my dear Helena,” he replied, “those people have no hearts!”
“They refused?”
“Yes, they refused me a vessel: they spoke of the millions vainly spent in searching for Franklin; they declared the document was vague and unintelligible; they said that the shipwreck of these unfortunates had happened two years ago, and that there was little chance of finding them. They maintained too, that, if prisoners of the Indians, they must have been carried into the interior of the country; that they could not ransack all Patagonia to find three men—three Scotchmen; the search would be vain and perilous, and would cost the lives of more men than it would save. In short, they gave all the absurd reasons of people who mean to refuse. They remembered the captain’s projects, and I fear that the unfortunate man is forever lost!”
“My father, my poor father!” cried Mary Grant, throwing herself at the feet of Lord Glenarvan.
“Your father! What, Miss—?” said he, surprised at seeing a young girl at his feet.
“Yes, Edward, Miss Grant and her brother,” replied Lady Helena; “the two children of Captain Grant, who have thus been condemned to remain orphans.”
“Ah, miss!” answered Lord Glenarvan, “if I had known of your presence—”
He said no more. A painful silence, interrupted only by sobs, reigned in the courtyard. No one raised his voice, neither Lord Glenarvan, Lady Helena, the major, nor the servants of the castle, who were standing about even at this early hour. But by their attitude they all protested against the conduct of the officials.
After several moments the major resumed the conversation, and, addressing Lord Glenarvan, said—
“Then you have no more hope?”
“None.”
“Well,” cried young Robert, “I will go to these people, and—we shall see—”
He did not finish his threat, for his sister stopped him; but his clinched hands indicated his intentions.
“No, Robert,” said she, “no; let us thank these kind people for what they have done for us. Let us
