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           "Buttheconvicts?"inquiredGlenarvan."Whatdidyoudowiththem?"

           "Theconvicts?"repliedTom,withtheairofamanwhodoesnotintheleastunderstandwhatheisbeingasked.

           "Yes,thewretcheswhoattackedtheyacht."

           "Whatyacht?YourHonor’s?"

           "Why,ofcourse,Tom.TheDuncan,andBenJoyce,whocameonboard."

           "Idon’tknowthisBenJoyce,andhaveneverseenhim."

           "Neverseenhim!"exclaimedPaganel,stupefiedattheoldsailor’sreplies."Thenpraytellme,Tom,howitisthattheDuncaniscruisingatthismomentonthecoastofNewZealand?"

           ButifGlenarvanandhisfriendsweretotallyatalosstounderstandthebewildermentoftheoldsailor,whatwastheiramazementwhenherepliedinacalmvoice:

           "TheDuncaniscruisingherebyyourHonor’sorders."

           "Bymyorders?"criedGlenarvan.

           "Yes,myLord.IonlyactedinobediencetotheinstructionssentinyourletterofJanuaryfourteenth."

           "Myletter!myletter!"exclaimedGlenarvan.

           ThetentravelerspressedcloserroundTomAustin,devouringhimwiththeireyes.TheletterdatedfromSnowyRiverhadreachedtheDuncan,then.

           "Letuscometoexplanations,pray,foritseemstomeIamdreaming.Youreceivedaletter,Tom?"

           "Yes,aletterfromyourHonor."

           "AtMelbourne?"

           "AtMelbourne,justasourrepairswerecompleted."

           "Andthisletter?"

           "Itwasnotwrittenbyyou,butboreyoursignature,myLord."

           "Justso;myletterwasbroughtbyaconvictcalledBenJoyce."