“CRUEL!” interrupted John Mangles. “I see now what GRAUS is part of in the second document. It is GRAUSAM, the word in German for CRUEL!”
“Let’s go on,” said Lord Glenarvan, becoming quite excited over his task, as the incomplete words began to fill up and develop their meaning. “INDI—is it India where they have been shipwrecked? And what can this word ONGIT be part of? Ah! I see—it is LONGITUDE; and here is the latitude, 37 degrees 11”. That is the precise indication at last, then!”
“But we haven’t the longitude,” objected McNabbs.
“But we can’t get everything, my dear Major; and it is something at all events, to have the exact latitude. The French document is decidedly the most complete of the three; but it is plain enough that each is the literal translation of the other, for they all contain exactly the same number of lines. What we have to do now is to put together all the words we have found, and translate them into one language, and try to ascertain their most probable and logical sense.”
“Well, what language shall we choose?” asked the Major.
“I think we had better keep to the French, since that was the most complete document of the three.”
“Your Lordship is right,” said John Mangles.
“Very well, then, I’ll set to work.”
In a few minutes he had written as follows:
“Now, friends,” said Lord Glenarvan, “let us go on with our investigations, for the lives of several human beings depend on our sagacity. We must give our whole minds to the solution of this enigma. We know that on the 7th of June a three-mast vessel, the Britannia of Glasgow, foundered; that two sailors and the captain threw this document into the sea in 37 degrees 11” latitude, and they need help.”
“Exactly so,” said the Major.
“So,” continued Glenarvan. “The shipwreck occurred in the southern seas; and here I would draw your attention at once to the incomplete word GONIE. Is this the name of the country?”
“Patagonia[20]!” exclaimed Lady Helena.
“Undoubtedly.”
“But is Patagonia crossed by the 37th parallel?” asked the Major.
“Yes, it is,” said the captain, opening a map of South America. “Patagonia just touches the 37th parallel. It cuts through Araucania[21], goes along over the Pampas[22] to the north, and loses itself in the Atlantic.”
“Well, the two sailors and the captain LAND—land where? CONTIN—on a continent; on a continent, not an island. What becomes of them? There are two letters here providentially which give a clew to their fate—PR, that must mean prisoners, and CRUEL INDIAN is evidently the meaning of the next two words. These unfortunate men are captives in the hands of cruel Indians. Don’t you see it? Isn’t the document quite clear now? Isn’t the sense self-evident?”
Glenarvan spoke in a tone of absolute conviction, and the others all exclaimed, too, “Yes, it is evident, quite evident!”
After an instant, Lord Edward said again, “I have no doubt whatever the event occurred on the coast of Patagonia, but still I will know, in Glasgow, the destination of the Britannia.”
“Oh,” said John Mangles. “I have the Gazette here, and we’ll see the name on the list, and all about it.”
“Do look at once, then,” said Lord Glenarvan.
The papers for the year 1862 was soon brought, and John began to turn over the leaves rapidly. In a few minutes he called out: “I’ve got it! ‘May 30, 1862,