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The
Major
repeated
these
words
,
and
looked
at
his
companions
.
What
did
Mulrady
mean
?
Ben
Joyce
had
been
the
attacking
party
,
of
course
;
but
why
?
Surely
for
the
express
purpose
of
intercepting
him
,
and
preventing
his
arrival
at
the
Duncan
.
This
letter
--
Glenarvan
searched
Mulrady
's
pockets
.
The
letter
addressed
to
Tom
Austin
was
gone
!
The
night
wore
away
amid
anxiety
and
distress
;
every
moment
,
they
feared
,
would
be
poor
Mulrady
's
last
.
He
suffered
from
acute
fever
.
The
Sisters
of
Charity
,
Lady
Helena
and
Mary
Grant
,
never
left
him
.
Never
was
patient
so
well
tended
,
nor
by
such
sympathetic
hands
.
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Day
came
,
and
the
rain
had
ceased
.
Great
clouds
filled
the
sky
still
;
the
ground
was
strewn
with
broken
branches
;
the
marly
soil
,
soaked
by
the
torrents
of
rain
,
had
yielded
still
more
;
the
approaches
to
the
wagon
became
difficult
,
but
it
could
not
sink
any
deeper
.
John
Mangles
,
Paganel
,
and
Glenarvan
went
,
as
soon
as
it
was
light
enough
,
to
reconnoiter
in
the
neighborhood
of
the
encampment
.
They
revisited
the
track
,
which
was
still
stained
with
blood
.
They
saw
no
vestige
of
Ben
Joyce
,
nor
of
his
band
.
They
penetrated
as
far
as
the
scene
of
the
attack
.
Here
two
corpses
lay
on
the
ground
,
struck
down
by
Mulrady
's
bullets
.
One
was
the
blacksmith
of
Blackpoint
.
His
face
,
already
changed
by
death
,
was
a
dreadful
spectacle
.
Glenarvan
searched
no
further
.
Prudence
forbade
him
to
wander
from
the
camp
.
He
returned
to
the
wagon
,
deeply
absorbed
by
the
critical
position
of
affairs
.
"
We
must
not
think
of
sending
another
messenger
to
Melbourne
,
"
said
he
.
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"
But
we
must
,
"
said
John
Mangles
;
"
and
I
must
try
to
pass
where
my
sailor
could
not
succeed
.
"
"
No
,
John
!
it
is
out
of
the
question
.
You
have
not
even
a
horse
for
the
journey
,
which
is
full
two
hundred
miles
!
"
This
was
true
,
for
Mulrady
's
horse
,
the
only
one
that
remained
,
had
not
returned
.
Had
he
fallen
during
the
attack
on
his
rider
,
or
was
he
straying
in
the
bush
,
or
had
the
convicts
carried
him
off
?