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- float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } -</style> -<title>VAITI OF THE ISLANDS</title> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="Beatrice Grimshaw" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="50663" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2015-12-10" /> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="Vaiti of the Islands" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="Vaiti of the Islands" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1920" /> - -<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> -<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators/" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> -<meta name="DCTERMS.title" content="Vaiti of the Islands" /> -<meta name="DCTERMS.source" content="/home/ajhaines/vaiti/vaiti.rst" /> -<meta scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" content="en" /> -<meta scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" content="2015-12-10T23:27:34.224160+00:00" /> -<meta name="DCTERMS.publisher" content="Project Gutenberg" /> -<meta name="DCTERMS.rights" content="Public Domain in the USA." /> -<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50663" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> -<meta name="DCTERMS.creator" content="Beatrice Grimshaw" /> -<meta scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" content="2015-12-10" /> -<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width" /> -<meta name="generator" content="Ebookmaker 0.4.0a5 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="vaiti-of-the-islands"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">VAITI OF THE ISLANDS</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States -and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no -restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> included with -this ebook or online at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>. If you -are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws -of the country where you are located before using this ebook.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: Vaiti of the Islands -<br /> -<br />Author: Beatrice Grimshaw -<br /> -<br />Release Date: December 10, 2015 [EBook #50663] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>VAITI OF THE ISLANDS</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="container titlepage"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold xx-large">VAITI OF THE ISLANDS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold medium">BY BEATRICE GRIMSHAW</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">LONDON -<br />GEORGE NEWNES, LIMITED -<br />SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND, W.C.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CONTENTS</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">CHAPTER</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#prologue">Prologue</a></p> -<ol class="upperroman simple"> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-pearl-lagoon">The Pearl Lagoon</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-race-for-a-fortune">A Race for a Fortune</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-flower-behind-the-ear">The Flower behind the Ear</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-black-viri">The Black Viri</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-diamond-web">A Diamond Web</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#marooned">Marooned</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-turning-of-the-tables">The Turning of the Tables</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-white-man-of-nalolo">The White Man of Nalolo</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-lost-island">The Lost Island</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#what-came-of-the-paris-dress">What came of the Paris Dress</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-dead-man-s-revenge">A Dead Man's Revenge</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#breaking-the-mana">Breaking the Mana</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-game-played-out">The Game Played Out</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#how-the-witch-doctor-got-his-money-back">How the Witch-Doctor got his Money back</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-calamity-of-coral-bay">The Calamity of Coral Bay</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-fate-of-the-lieutenant">The Fate of the Lieutenant</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#invaders-in-tanna">Invaders in Tanna</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-cannibal-party">A Cannibal Party</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-rival-princesses">The Rival Princesses</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#queen-after-all">Queen after all</a></p> -</li> -</ol> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="prologue"><span class="bold x-large">VAITI OF THE ISLANDS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold medium">PROLOGUE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was in the seventies, long ago.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Summer—yet a slow grey dawn, lingering long -in the sky. August—yet a chilly morning, crisping -the landlocked waters of the bay with cold knife-edges -of foam. Out at sea, the wild white horses plunging -madly under the whip of the sunrise wind; the bar -beginning to thunder. Inshore, beneath the green -slope of the castle hill, small angry ripples beating and -fretting the untrampled sand. Dead rose-leaves from -the gardens floating among the seaweed; a torn bird's-nest, -flung down by the wind, lying on the edge of the -steep cliff pathway.... It was still the time of summer, -yet, too surely, autumn had come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sodden leaves lay thick in the bottom of the -boat when the man seized it by the gunwale and ran -it down the beach into the snatching waves.... Oh, -an autumn day indeed, here in wild Caithness, though -summer was still at its fairest in kinder lands. And -in the heart of the man who was rowing fast through -the angry dawn light, to the tall schooner yacht that -swung and tore at her moorings out in the bay, there -was autumn too, with winter close at hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All so long ago! who remembers?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not the newspapers which, in a day or two after, -shrieked the scandal broadcast, east and west. Not -the guests of the castle house-party—they are dead, or -old, which is half of death, since then. Not the Prince -whose dignity had been insulted by the outbreak of a -vulgar card scandal in his very presence—he struck -the titled owner of the house off the list of his intimates -forthwith, and then forgot about it and him. Not the -colonel of the famous regiment, who found out defalcations -in the funds belonging to the mess, a few days -after, and knew why his most promising young officer -had done the unforgiveable thing—for the Ashanti -spears ended life and memory for him out on the African -plains, before even Piccadilly had made an end of talking. -Not the Royal Yacht Squadron—the reported loss of -the famous </span><em class="italics">Paquita</em><span> at sea, with her disgraced owner -on board, is a tale that even the oldest </span><em class="italics">habitue</em><span> of Cowes -could not tell you to-day.... No one remembers. -When the beautiful white schooner spread her wings -below the castle wall, and beat her way like a frightened -butterfly out to the stormy sea, she sailed away in -silence, and she and hers were known no more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet, but for that stormy day in the Highlands, and -the boat that fled to sea, these tales of far-off lands had -never been told.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-pearl-lagoon"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER I</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE PEARL LAGOON</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Where's the old man?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Old man drunk," replied Vaiti indifferently. She -had learned to play "The Maiden's Prayer," maltreat -three European languages, and cultivate a waist in her -Tahitian convent school. But that was five years ago -now, and Vaiti's "papalangi" verbs had dropped from -her quite as soon, and as naturally, as her "Belitani" -stays.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why can't he wake up and give us an observation?" -commented the mate indignantly. "It would be hard -if a man mightn't enjoy himself in port; but we're -four days out now, and he's as bad as ever, lyin' all the -time on the settee like a——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You better mind too much what you say my father!" Vaiti -had set one shapely olive hand on the deck, and -sprung to her feet like a flying-fish making a leap. She -was taller than the sturdy, red-haired mate, as she -stood up on the poop, her bare feet well apart, her white -muslin loose gown swelling out as she leaned to the roll -of the steamer, and her black-brown eyes, deep-set under -fine brows as straight as a ruler, staring down the blue -eyes of the man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very sorry, I'm sure; no offence meant," said the -mate humbly. "But we want an observation, and he -ain't no good. Why, you know as well as me that he'll -be like this, off and on, all the voyage now; we've both -of us seen it before."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti stamped her bare feet on the deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know—I know! I try all the way from Apia -wake him up—no good! I tell you, Alliti"—the mate's -name, Harris, usually took this form in the pigeon-English -of Polynesia—"this very bad time for him to -get 'quiffy. Too much bad time. Never mind. Get -the sextan'. I take sun myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The mate ran down the companion and into the -cabin, where the captain's six feet two of drunken -ineptitude sprawled over most of the space available -for passing. He stopped for a moment to look at the -heavy, unconscious face—a handsome face, with the -remains of refinement about it; for Captain Saxon had -been a gentleman once, and his name (which was certainly -not Saxon then) had appeared among the lists of -"members deceased" in the annual reports of all the -best London clubs of the 'seventies.... Why Saxon -died, and why he came to life again in the South Pacific -some years later, is a tale that need not be told, even if -it is guessed. Many such substantial ghosts roam the -South Seas unexorcised—many a man whose name -adorns a memorial tablet, guarded by weeping marble -angels, on the walls of some ivied English Church, is -busy conferring a peculiar fitness upon the -occupation of those guardian seraphs, down among "The -Islands," where he and the devil may do as they please.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Og!" observed the mate, as he passed through -to the captain's cabin, and fetched out the sextant. -"'Alf-caste or quarter-caste, Vaiti's too good a daughter -for him, by the length of the mainmast and the mizzen -together. She's got all his brains—Lord, how she -learned navigation from him, like a cat lapping up milk, -when she set her mind to it!—and none of his villainy. -At least——" The mate paused on the companion, -and filled his pipe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At least——" he repeated, and broke off the remark -unfinished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sun coming out nice now," he said, handing the -sextant to the girl. Vaiti made her observation with -the ease of an old sea-captain, and went below to work -it out. It was true, as Harris said, that she had plenty -of brains, though they did not lie along the lines of -"The Maiden's Prayer" and Dr. Smith's English -Grammar. And, whatever the legal status of poor -derelict Saxon, or the mate, might be, no one who had -ever climbed the side of the schooner </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> could doubt -the obvious fact that the real commanding officer of -that vessel was Vaiti herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What d'ye make it?" asked the mate, looking over -her shoulder. Vaiti, always sparing of her words, pointed -to the figures. Harris whistled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ain't we off our course, just!" he said, drawing -his finger down the chart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Vaiti.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, hang it all, Cap"—the girl was accorded the -title, half in fun, half through habit, a good deal oftener -than her father—"we ain't making for the Delgada -reefs, are we? I don't pretend to be any navigator, -but I do know the course for Papeëte."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What you think not matter," said Vaiti, rolling -up the chart. "Make him eight bell. You go take -wheel; I ki-ki [dinner], then I take him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the course?" demanded the mate eagerly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nor'-west by west," answered Vaiti, going into her -cabin, and slamming the door against Harris's -open-mouthed questions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An Aitutaki boy with a chain of red berries in his -hair, and a scarlet and yellow "pareo" (kilt) for all -clothing, brought up the dinner. Vaiti ate her meal -alone, and then came on deck to take over the wheel, -keeping a determined silence that Harris hardly cared -to break.... And yet—Nor'-west by west, with the -wind fair for distant Papeëte, and the deadly Delgadas -lying about a quarter point off their present course, not -ten miles away!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She's a hard case, bo'sun," he remarked to that official -as they sat down together. "She has me fair scared -with the course she's steering; and yet, you may sling -me over the side in a shotted hammock for the sharks'es -ki-ki, if she don't know a lot more than the old man -himself. Ain't she a daisy, too! Look at her there -'olding the wheel, as upright as a cocoanut palm, and -as pretty and plump as a—as a——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Porker," concluded the bo'sun, pouring an imperial -pint of tea into his mug.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You ain't got no poetry in you," said the mate -disgustedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nor nothing else," growled the bo'sun. "Ain't -you going to help that curry, and give a man something -to put in his own inside after stowing the whale-boat -full of beef and biscuits?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The whale-boat? (That's plenty, bo'sun; I've -got to live as well as you)."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, biscuits, beef, and water; compass and sextant. -She give the order a while ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's in the wind now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't ask questions, so I'm never told no lies."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do, though," said the mate, in a spasm of authority, -deserting his dinner to spring up the companion and -join Vaiti at the wheel. The bo'sun's mahogany face -broke up into a score of curving wrinkles, and his -shoulders shook a little, as he watched the scene on -deck. Quite mechanically he transferred the rest of -the curry to his plate, and while clearing the dish with -the precision of a machine, kept an eye on the couple -at the wheel. He saw Harris ask an eager question, -and repeat it more eagerly. He saw Vaiti jerk a brief -answer, and the mate speak again. Then he saw the -girl swing round on her heel, lift one slender hand, and -bring it down across Harris's cheek with an emphasis -that left a crimson mark upon the polished brown. He -saw the mate take a step forward, and look at the -handsome helmswoman as though he were very much minded -to pay back the correction after the manner of man in -general where a pretty vixen is concerned. The two -figures stared at each other, eye to eye, for a full minute. -Vaiti's brown eyes, keen as twin swords, never wavered; -her lip was insolent and unrelenting. The mate's -half-angry, half mischievous expression dissolved into an -embarrassed grin; then he turned tail and hurried down -the hatch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She's a tigress in 'uman form," he declared. "If -the old man—or any other—was to lay 'is little finger -on me—but there! who cares what a scratchin' cat -does? I'd as soon marry a shark—I would!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've as much chance," granted the bo'sun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Talk of sharks!" said the mate, gazing ruefully at -the table and the empty dish.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some two hours later, a milky gleam on the port bow -attracted the mate's attention as he stood on the poop. -A Kanaka sailor had just taken the wheel, and Vaiti was -below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Breakers on the port bow!" sang out Harris.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti was up in a minute.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I t'row water on my father's head," she said coolly—"but -no good; he too much sick, he see snake by -and by, I think. You and Oki carry him into him -cabin, and come back pretty quick. I see this t'rough -myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See </span><em class="italics">what</em><span>?" demanded the mate, on the last verge -of frenzy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not know myself yet," answered Vaiti, giving one -of her rare laughs. She seemed in a very good humour -for once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the mate came out a little later, and the sailor -went back to the neglected wheel, Vaiti was standing -by the whale-boat, wearing an air of perfect self-possession -and a complete suit of her father's white ducks. -The sight was no novelty to Harris, but it came -upon him now, as usually, with a new shock of admiration.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't she an outrighter!" he observed to the -unsympathetic bo'sun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She certainly is, if outrighter's French for an -undacent young woman," replied that officer sourly. -Harris did not hear him, for the significance of the -morning's mystery had just burst on his mind. He -had not spent ten years in the Pacific for nothing and -the sight of Tai, a diver from Penrhyn, standing beside -Vaiti, with a water-glass in his hand, spelt "pearl-shell" -to the eyes of the mate as clearly as if the magic -word had been printed in letters three feet long. Vaiti -flashed her white teeth at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tai, me, three boys, we go into lagoon," she said. -"Suppose somethings happen, you find course for Apia -written out, cabin table; you take ship back, put -captain in hospital."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By ——, but you're a corker, Vaiti!" cried Harris -admiringly. "Where'd you hear anything about the -Delgadas? No ship goes near them that can help it; -they're a regular ocean cemetery."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You 'member officer from gun-boat, Apia?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay!" said Harris. He did remember the lad, and -the rather inexplicable friendliness shown him by -Saxon and Vaiti during the stay in port of the -</span><em class="italics">Alligator</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He show me photo Delgadas. </span><em class="italics">Alligator</em><span> he been go -all round him, mark him right for chart, because he all -wrong. Officer give my father bearings; say plenty talk -and show photo. He dam fool officer, I think; he not -know that kind place mean pearl-shell, and we not tell -anything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Harris mounted the rigging, and surveyed the reef -from the main cross-trees. It was the best part of a -mile away; a creaming circle of foam on the sea's blue -surface, enclosing a pallid spot of green. Vaiti, who had -followed him, flung one arm round the mast, and, leaning -outwards towards the horizon, surveyed the reef -intently. Within that ring of foam—the grave of many -a gallant ship that had sailed the fair Pacific as bravely -as their own little schooner—might lie many thousands -of pounds. The repurchase of the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>, once Saxon's -sole property, now partly owned by a trading syndicate; -the regaining of her captain's lost position in decent -society—perhaps the realisation of half a hundred -luxurious dreams, dreamed on coral beaches under the -romance-breeding splendours of the tropic moon—all -this, and more, hung on the chances of the next few -hours.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was silence for the space of a minute or two, -as the man and woman swung between earth and -heaven, staring across the sun-dazzled plain of sea. -Then, in one instant, the dream broke, and the rainbow -fragments of that bubble of glory scattered themselves -east and west. For across the bar of the level horizon -slipped a small, pointed, pearl-coloured sail, growing as -they watched it, flying past, and heading all too surely -for the Delgadas reef.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti flung herself round a backstay, and slid down -to the deck, with a word on her lips that would have -justified the bo'sun's recent judgment, could he have -caught it. Harris followed, swearing fully and freely. -It was evident to both that the newcomer had special -business with the reef as well as themselves; and they -wasted no time, acting in concord, and without dispute, -after a fashion that was new on board the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>. Within -half an hour they had reduced the distance between -the ship and the reef to a quarter of a mile; nearer -than that even Vaiti did not care to go, for the weather -looked unsettled, though the wind was off the reef. -The whale-boat, with a picked crew, was lowered, and -sent flying towards the break in the reef, while the -mate, burning to be in her, but conscious that his -duty must keep him on the ship, paced excitedly up and -down the deck, glass in hand, watching the advance of -the stranger ship from time to time. She was a good -two hours' sail away as yet; and surely first possession -was worth something, even out here in the lawless South -Seas!</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-race-for-a-fortune"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER II</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A RACE FOR A FORTUNE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Before an hour was over, the wind had freshened -considerably, and the mate began to feel anxious for the -safety of the boat, in case he should be obliged to run -for it from the neighbourhood of the treacherous reef. -That Vaiti would return an instant sooner because -of the threatening weather he did not expect, knowing -the dare-devil recklessness of her character too well. -It was certain, however, that he might lose the ship, -and incidentally himself, by waiting too long; and it -was equally certain that Saxon, once recovered, would -put a bullet through his mate's head if Vaiti came to -harm. And all the time that threatening sail was -growing larger and larger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was an unspeakable relief, though no less of a -surprise, when he saw that the boat was actually heading -towards the ship again, the sail up and every oar hard -at work. He did not remember having seen Tai go -down, in any of his hurried inspections through the glass, -and the time was certainly short. What did it all -mean?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The meaning became sufficiently clear as soon as the -boat approached the ship, but not through the medium -of eye or ear. A strong stench of rotting fish struck -the mate's nostrils almost before the boat was within -hail, and instantly enlightened him. No one who has -ever smelt the terrible smell of the pearl-oyster removed -from its ocean bed, and left to putrefy in a tropical sun, -can mistake the odour. Harris understood at once that -the strange ship had been there before, and that Vaiti was -bringing back a sample of the last catch, left out to rot -during the vessel's temporary absence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> was leaping dangerously when the boat came -alongside, but Vaiti snatched at the lowered rope, and -swung herself up over the bulwarks before any of the -native crew. Tai, following her, brought a sack of -hideously smelling carrion, and dumped it down on the -deck. The mate's eyes glistened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I find great lot lying on reef," said Vaiti, with an -apparent calmness that might have deceived any one -who knew her less accurately than the mate. "I think -been there two week. C'lismas Island, he one week -away, good weather. Papalangi C'lismas Island belong -plenty diving gear. You see?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rather!" said Harris gloomily. "Game up, eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think you no man at all," spat Vaiti suddenly, -swinging into the cabin. Harris, not especially put out, -gave a hand to hauling in the boat, remarking to the -bo'sun, who was picking over the heap of decaying -pearl-shell, "Don't know as one could say the same about her, -lump of solid devilment that she is! But this looks -like the end of all our 'opes, as they say in the plays; -don't it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a minute or two Vaiti appeared again, wearing a -dignified muslin gown with three frills on its tail, and -holding a chart in her hands. She eyed the horizon -narrowly, and ordered the ship to be put about, a -manoeuvre which headed the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> straight for the -oncoming sail. It was now evident that the stranger -ship was a schooner of some eighty or ninety tons, -rather larger than the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>, and nearly as fast. No one -on board had the smallest doubt of her mission, even -had that rotting heap of shell not been there to offer -evidence. Pearl-shell lagoons, with their shell worth -£100 to £200 per ton, and their pearls (if any are found, -which is not always certain) worth a fortune for half a -handful, are the gold mines of the South Sea world; -the very birds of the sea seem at times to carry the news -of such a discovery, and spread it far and wide.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> gathered way, and sped fast towards the -stranger ship. The sea was blackening and rising, but -there was not very much wind as yet. Vaiti sat -cross-legged on the deck, studying her chart in the waning -light of the gusty afternoon. It was some minutes -before she laid it down and stood up to speak, steadying -herself with one hand against the deck-house, for the -schooner was now rolling heavily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Alliti," she said, "suppose you got heart one small -fowl inside you, I get captain's Winchester, my levolver, -you and bosun's levolver, and we send that people Davy -Jones, or go ourself, pretty quick. But you not got heart, -though you big man, and old man he all time sick. Now, -you listen too much what I tell you. You run alongside -ship, you go on board. You say captain sick, no -one take sun, we get off course, nearly wreck on Delgadas. -Then you ask captain give bearings reef, and you look -at him chart too much careful, see if this line mark—here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She put the point of her small forefinger on the chart -she held, and showed two or three newly-ruled lines in -red ink, enclosing a large space east and south of Samoa. -These were the boundaries of the area lately annexed -by New Zealand, and she was exceedingly anxious to -know if the stranger knew as much about the significance -of that matter as she did.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then," she went on, "you ask him if he been Wellington, -say we wanting news——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What the (adjective noun) for?" demanded the mate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I say, pauki!" (pig) flashed Vaiti. "No!—you -got head of pig, heart of fowl. You bo'sun, you -know I get you through this all right, suppose you -trusting me—you come here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Harris, shaking his great shoulders in an easy laugh, -swung down on to the main deck, and began ordering -about the crew. He had an enormous admiration for -Vaiti, even when she boxed his ears, but he thought her -special peculiarities of character rather a trying obstacle -in the way of his enjoying the easy life beloved of South -Sea mates.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The acidulous bo'sun rose from his seat on deck, holding -out an unclean palm, in the midst of which glittered two -fine pearls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've been through that little lot, and got these, which -do look like biz, ma'am," he observed. "As to people -havin' fowls' hearts, or pigs' heads, I'm not prepared to -pass judgment. But I don't own to neither myself, -and if you say it's a fight, a fight it is. Or if you've got -a better plan in that uncommon level 'ead of yours, I'm -ready to stand by."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You something like a man," pronounced the -commanding officer in the muslin skirt. "You listen. -I tell him all again."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>An hour later the bo'sun, very wet and draggled, -climbed over the bulwarks of the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>, and the schooner -</span><em class="italics">Margaret Macintyre</em><span>, of Sydney, slipped behind into the -falling dusk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Said he was thirteen weeks out from Sydney, ma'am," -reported the ambassador. "Four weeks out from Apia, -gettin' copra round here and there, and there wasn't -no Wellington news anywhere, as he remembered. Nice -new chart, with no lines of that kind ruled on it -anywhere. As to where he got the divin' gear that -was in the cabin, or what kind of copra he reckoned -to pick up on the Delgadas, he didn't say, not bein' -asked."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti stood still to consider, a beautifully poised black -silhouette against the yellow oblong of the lamp-lit -cabin door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think it all right; he not been near Wellington," -she pronounced at last. "Alliti! How her head?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sou'-west by south," answered the mate from the wheel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Keep her so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, ay, sir!" laughed the mate.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Every one in the South Pacific knew that the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> -was a marvel of speed, and that she had not been originally -built for trading, though nobody could tell exactly how -Saxon had acquired such a clipper. It was a popular -theory that she was a millionaire's yacht from San -Francisco, which he had stolen and subsequently -disguised. He was known, however, to have possessed her -for more than twenty years, and was now as completely -identified with her as her own mainmast; so that any -doubts as to the honesty of the way by which he might -originally have obtained her were now of a purely -academic nature.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Famous as she was for speed, the record of her passage -from the Delgadas to Wellington fairly astonished the -Islands, when it came to be told. They had a fair wind -almost all the way, with two or three lively nights when -the little vessel, hard driven under the utmost pressure -of the canvas, piled up the knots like a liner. Saxon -continued delirious, but was fortunately quiet. Harris, -and Gray the boatswain, though unenlightened as to -the cause of the </span><em class="italics">Sybil's</em><span> sudden southward flight, fully -understood that the possession of the pearl lagoon -hung in the balance, and worked like half-a-dozen -to supplement the efforts of the scanty Kanaka crew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti interfered little with the working of the ship, -but she kept a look-out that hardly left her time for sleep -or food; although the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>, like most Pacific ships, -was allowed, under ordinary circumstances, to chance -it, day and night. Hour after hour she sat cross-legged -on deck, watching the unbroken rim of the black horizon, -or paced up and down the poop, silent and grave, in her -lace and muslin fripperies, as a naval officer on the bridge. -What she was looking for no one knew, but during that -wild ten days of foam and smother, cracking sails and -straining sheets, her silent watchfulness infected the -men themselves, and eyes were constantly turned to -scan the empty, seething plain over which they flew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was drawing on towards dusk of the tenth day, and -the sky was beginning to light fires of angry copper-purple, -high in the storm-driven west, when Vaiti, of -a sudden, stopped dead in her endless walk, and looked -with lips apart and eyes narrowed deep beneath her -brows over the weather rail. All this time they had not -sighted a single sail or a solitary funnel. They had -been well off the track of New Zealand bound ships, -and the Pacific waters are wide. But now they were -drawing near to Wellington, and there was nothing to -be astonished at in the sight of another sail creeping up -over the horizon, except, indeed, the fact that it was -momentarily growing larger and gaining on the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>. -There was scarce another schooner afloat from New -Guinea to the Paumotus that could have done as -much.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The mate came up behind Vaiti, and handed her a -glass. She looked through it, lowered it, raised it, and -looked again with a steady gaze, and suddenly flung it -out of her hand across the deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Harris caught it deftly and asked, with the -constitutional calm that alone saved his reason when Vaiti -took over command, "What's to pay now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She got auxiliary," said Vaiti, with a note of agony -in her voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What if she has? Isn't any vessel free to carry an -auxiliary that can stand the stink of the oil and the -cussedness of the injin?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I go see captain," said Vaiti, flashing down the -companion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Saxon was better to-day, and almost in full possession -of his senses. Vaiti went to the medicine chest; took -out a hypodermic syringe, filled it with careful accuracy -from a tiny dark blue bottle, and lifted her father's -arm as he lay limp and weak, but mending fast, in his bunk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good girl, take care of your old father," he murmured -in island Maori as she slipped the needle-point painlessly -under the skin, and the powerful drug began to race -through every vein of the inert body. The effect was -rapid and decisive. Saxon sat up against his pillows -in five minutes, clear-headed though weak, and asked if -the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> had not sighted the Delgadas yet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen, father," said Vaiti, speaking fluently in the -low, soft tongue that the two had used together all -her life—the Maori language Saxon had first learned -from the pretty brown girl, dead this many years, whom -he had stolen from her South Sea island to sail the blue -Pacific at his side in the days of long ago. "Listen. -There is little time, and we are in great need. We came -to the reef, and the shell was there truly, but a strange -ship had been before us. Even as we lay there she -returned from Christmas Island with diving gear. I -sent Gray on board to look at her chart and find out if -she had been to Wellington; and it seemed that she -had not the new line of annexation marked on the chart, -where New Zealand this year added to herself all that -lay within a certain space of the sea; also she had not -been south of Auckland. So then, knowing that we, -if we asked the Government, might have the atoll -granted us for twenty years and take possession above -the people of the other ship, I made sail for Wellington; -and we are now but one day away when this ship -appears again, chasing us. Where the suspicion has -waked in their hearts, or when, is nothing; but that -they have thought and discovered our desire, that is -certain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> all sail, daughter, and she will leave -the other. What is this talk?" asked Saxon, raising -himself on his elbow to look out of the glooming circle -of the port.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But the ship has 'auxiliary,' my father, and she -will have passed out of sight before the morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, she has, has she?" grunted the captain, dropping -back into his native tongue. "What are you going to -do about it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had noted a glimmer in Vaiti's eye that told him -that she was not yet at the end of her resources. The -Maori guile and the English daring were united to some -purpose in this strange creature that he had given to the -world.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will tell," she said, standing up to her full height. -"But you must give the order, my father, for Alliti -drags on the rein these days. Let the bale of trawl-net, -and the Manila rope, be taken from the cargo, and let us -cross the bows of this ship, and drop them across her -path. The keel will run clean, but the screw will foul, -and they will creep like a bird with a broken wing till -daylight. Then, if the sea has grown less, they will -send down a diver and clear the screws; but we -shall be almost into Wellington, and the lagoon is ours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are worthy to be the daughter of a brave man," -answered Saxon in Maori, sinking back wearily on his -pillow. "Go, then; and if we lose the ship, we lose -her; there is great wealth to gain, and a man must die -at one time, if not another. I am tired. I will sleep."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti left him, and hurried back on deck. The purple -dusk was already beginning to gather, and the green -starboard light of the </span><em class="italics">Margaret Macintyre</em><span> gleamed like -a glow-worm a mile or so behind. She was drawing -very near; there was no time to lose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Alliti!" called Vaiti. "My father he better; he -send word to take trawl-net and Malila out of hold, -make come across that ship him path, foul him sclew. -Suppose you not afraid, you bring us close, drop net and -Malila."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Harris's hide was thick, but Vaiti knew how to pierce -it when she chose; and the man had courage enough, -in streaks. Vaiti had hit the mark when she called -him chicken-hearted in fighting, but there was no -manoeuvre of the ship too risky for him to undertake -and carry through with perfect coolness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right, my lady," he nodded. "Don't forget me -and Gray when it comes to sharing out the swag, that's -all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The net and the rope were brought up, and the latter -knotted here and there to make a hideous tangle of it. -Then the </span><em class="italics">Sybil's</em><span> lights were put out, even the cabin lamp -being extinguished. The stars pricked themselves out -in sudden sharpness on the great blue chart of heaven -above, and the waste of dark rolling water all around -grew large and lonely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You are not to suppose that Saxon's daughter did -not see and feel these things—did not hear the voiceless -talk of the great seas on starry evenings, or feel her mortal -body almost rapt away in the ecstasy of a black midnight -and a shrieking storm; just as you, perhaps, who think -that no one ever shared such experiences with yourself, -may feel. It is not only the blameless tourist, with his -daily diary, and his books of travel teaching him how -and when to "enthuse," who enjoys the splendid -pageant of the seas. Vaiti, as the most indulgent -chronicler must confess, had more than a spice of her -father's villainy in her composition, not to speak of -whatever devilry her Maori forebears might have bequeathed -to her. She was unscrupulous, ruthless, and crafty -as a general rule; she was engaged in a deed of the very -shadiest description to-night—yet, as she stood with -her hands on the wheel, and her eyes on the green -starboard light of the oncoming ship, steering the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> -to something extremely like certain destruction, she -knew that the Southern Cross was rising, clear and -beautiful, above its gem-like pointers, just ahead; and -that a little sliver of young moon, crystal-silver against -the dark, was slipping up the sky to her left. The thought -just grazed her mind that this might be the last time -the moon would ever rise over the Pacific for her. She -smiled a little in the dusk, and steered steadily ahead. -There were no "streaks" in the composition of Vaiti's -spirit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A short tack to the starboard became necessary. -Harris put the ship about at a lift of Vaiti's hand. It -grew very dark; a cloud was over the moon, and the -stars were dimmed by driving vapour. The wind was -increasing; the schooner lay over with its weight, and -the foam gurgled along her clean-ran sides. Still the -</span><em class="italics">Margaret Macintyre</em><span> came on, stately and unsuspicious, -all sail set, and the beat of the little screw distinctly -audible through the night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti signalled again to put the ship about, and as -soon as the great booms had creaked across the deck. -gave over the wheel to Harris.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Run him just as he head now," she said softly, "and -bring him too much close; so (double adjective) close -to ship he scrape the (qualified) paint off him. I go do -rest."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Harris, humming "Good-bye, Dolly Gray," took -the wheel over. If he had any doubts as to Vaiti's -purpose, the vigour of her language would have -dispersed them. Vaiti never swore unless she was -exceedingly in earnest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The trawl-net and the tangle of Manila were hanging -over the stern, held up by a single rope. Vaiti glided -to the rail, holding a sharp knife in her hand—("I -always </span><em class="italics">did</em><span> think she kept one somewhere among her -frilligigs," commented Harris silently, as he caught the -flash of the steel)—and waited, still as a statue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently out of the darkness shot a hail, accompanied -by a perfect constellation of oaths. Its apparent object -was to ascertain the </span><em class="italics">Sybil's</em><span> reason for steering such a -course. The </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> answered not a word, but steered -the course some more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The hail, at the second time of repeating, became a -yell, with a strong note of terror in it. On came the -</span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>, a dim, unlit tower of blackness, taking as much -notice of the shouts as the </span><em class="italics">Flying Dutchman</em><span>. Those on -board the </span><em class="italics">Margaret Macintyre</em><span> gave themselves up for -lost. There was even a rush made for one of the boats. -But the threatening shape swept past her bows, so near -that the furious captain could have tossed a biscuit -on board—so near that the </span><em class="italics">Sybil's</em><span> Kanaka crew, thinking -the "papalangi" officers meant to ram the stranger, -uttered war-cries wherein pure delight was mingled with -overjoyed surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was all over in a minute, and the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> was well -away on the </span><em class="italics">Margaret Macintyre's</em><span> port side before -the latter vessel discovered, through the medium of a -horrible jar from the engine-room and a powerful odour -of oil, that the screw was badly fouled, leaving them, -like St. Paul with nothing to do but make the best of -circumstances, and "wish that it were day."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>December weather is hot in Wellington, and it was -now close to Christmas. Perhaps that was why the -senior member of the trading firm that had taken over -part ownership of the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> for an unpaid debt thought -his eyes were deceived by the glare of the sun when -he saw a white schooner of singularly graceful lines -lying alongside one of the wharves on a date when -her engagements plainly demanded her presence in -Tahiti.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When, however, he met Saxon and his daughter, a -few minutes afterwards, on Lambton Quay, he understood -that his eyes were in excellent order. So, it soon -appeared, was his tongue. He was a gentleman of -Scottish extraction, and it hurt him badly to see possible -profits thrown away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Saxon let him have his say, and merely laughed for -answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come into the Occidental, and Vaiti and I'll tell you -something worth all the trade that you'd take out of -Papeëte in ten years," he said. "I'm going to own the -ship again before New Year's Day, and paint this good -old town scarlet as well. You'll see."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the man of money-bags, anxious to see, went into -the hotel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti, in a fit of perversity, declined to come in. She -knew only too well that, in Saxon's impecunious -condition, there was no hope of getting their discovery -effectively worked save at a price that would leave very -little change over for the present possessors of the -lagoon—even if the captain had been quite sober, which he -was not. They had got the grant, and had furthermore -had the satisfaction of noting that, day after day, -Wellington Harbour remained empty of the hardly-used -</span><em class="italics">Margaret Macintyre</em><span>. It was evident that her -people, whoever they were, had tamely accepted defeat. -There was no standing against a grant from the -Government of New Zealand—no matter how acquired. -But all this did not alter the fact that there was not going -to be a great deal for the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>, and her captain, and her -captain's daughter—especially the latter. It was there -that the sting lay. Vaiti had had dreams—oh, but -dreams! oh, such dreams! before solid common-sense -had brought her down to earth, and made her -realise that Saxon's unlucky state, and the eminently -Scottish firm who held the destinies of the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> in their -hands, were quite certain to stand in the way of -realisation. To make a fortune, you must first have one, -generally speaking. And it was the canny Glasgow men -who had it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So, because she did not want to hear with her own -ears what she knew very well must take place, she -refused to come into the hotel, and wandered off alone -down the quays, in the warm December sun, which yet -was cool compared to the burning heats of the island -world. She was dressed in a long, waistless muslin -gown, as usual, but her shady Niué hat and white deck -shoes—not to speak of a pair of kid gloves that caused -her horrible discomfort and a parasol that embarrassed -her extremely—spoke of a respect for certain of the -conventions that might have astonished people who knew, -or thought they knew, Vaiti of the Islands. Of course, -the loungers on the quays looked admiringly after her—she -would have liked to see them dare to omit that tribute -to her fiery charms—and some of them freely spoke to -her, calling her Mary and Polly, offering her hearts and -drinks and new bonnets, and asking her for kisses or -jobs on the schooner, just as it occurred to them, after -the simple fashion of the sea. Some of them knew her, -and some of them did not. It was the latter who asked -for jobs. The men who did know the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> and her -"Kapitani" asked for kisses, which they did not expect -to get. That was safer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti, quite accustomed to this sort of demonstration, -and enjoying it in a languid way as she strolled along -under the annoying parasol, covered half a mile or so -of the quay at her own leisurely pace, and then sat down -on a coil of rope in a quiet place, to stare across the water -and think.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She wanted something, and she did not see her way -to get it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To disentangle the dreams and hopes, wild fancies, -and wilder aspirations of the half-caste mind when that -mind, puzzling and elusive enough to the pure white -in any case, is further complicated with a touch of -genius, would be a task worthy of a whole academy of -science. This much alone can the necessarily -all-knowing biographer of Vaiti say—that she wanted to -be someone, and wanted it so badly that nothing -else in life seemed worth having, or even existent, -She was a princess of Atiu on her mother's side, and -on her father's (though Saxon's past was as much a -mystery as the origin of the yacht-like </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> herself) -Vaiti felt that she had every right to claim high -standing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Doubly dowered, therefore, with the instinct of rule, -the actual command of the schooner had fallen into her -capable hands quite naturally. Left to herself, she -would probably have made the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> pay in a way -unknown before to the easy-going island world. But -the useless, dissipated Saxon had to be counted on. She -liked him in her own way, such as it was, but she despised -him also. And it was an undoubted fact that he -hampered everything. This bargain with M'Coy and -Co., for instance—it was useless for her to attempt to -put a finger on it. Saxon had got drunk the night -before, as soon as the matter of the grant had been -finally decided, at the end of some anxious days of -waiting; and in the morning the numerous "hairs" -that he had taken to restore him had left him in a -condition of hopeless obstinacy and self-sufficiency. In -such a state he was as certain to be over-reached as a -stranded jelly-fish is certain to be licked up by the -sun. And this was bitter to Vaiti.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For, sitting there motionless under the parasol (which -was serving a useful purpose at last, in shading her -handsome face from observation and comment by the -passers-by), Vaiti had arrived at something rather like -a conclusion, and a conclusion, too, that was likely to -shape most of her thoughts and acts henceforward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Money was the thing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She did not care for money in itself, and none of the -things it could bring really interested her, except pretty -clothes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But money was importance, money was power; money -was the freedom to do exactly what you wanted, and -make other people do it too. She did not think it out -in words, like a European. Pictures passed before her -mind, more vivid by far than the glittering water and -flashing sea-gull wings in front of her bodily eyes. She -saw captains of great ships, giving orders like kings, -and obeyed by the promptest and smartest of slaves. -She saw owners of big stores entertaining half the -island on their verandahs, paid court to by wandering -beach-combers, going out to ships in beautiful boats -manned by their own uniformed crews, who bent their -backs double at a word. She saw "Tusitala," of Samoa, -the great English story-teller, living in his splendid -house outside Apia, surrounded by a humble clan of -native followers wearing wonderful lava-lavas of a -foreign stuff they called "tatani" (tartan)—Tusitala, -who was as great a chief as Mataafa himself, and had -spoken to her, Vaiti, as one worthy of all honour.... -Her pictures were almost all of the islands, for the -islands were in her blood; but something, too, she -saw of Auckland—the merchant M'Coy, old and so -ugly, and of the commonest birth, yet reverenced like -the greatest of chiefs, because he had money....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The afternoon rays grew blinding hot on the water -as the sun sank down. The sea-gulls dipped and -screamed. Steamers glided away from the wharves -with long hooting cries that somehow seemed to embody -all the melancholy of the homeless sea. Steam cranes -chattered ceaselessly above the yawning holds of -discharging ships. Behind, the tramcars hummed in the -street, and people hurried up and down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And at last the western sky began to burn with -sultry red, and Vaiti went home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Something had taken root in her mind that afternoon -that struck down and shot up, in the days to come, and -led her into ways and places wilder even than the -adventure of the pearl lagoon. As children string -berries on a straw, so upon the stem that grew from -that seed were strung the strange events that followed, -one by one.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-flower-behind-the-ear"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER III</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE FLOWER BEHIND THE EAR</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As Vaiti, Cassandra-wise, had prophesied about the -pearl lagoon, so indeed it fell out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It takes money to exploit even the smallest -discovery of this kind, and the canny M'Coy made the -most of the fact. Delgadas Reef was too risky a -neighbourhood to be worked by any vessel unprovided with -an auxiliary engine, so a cranky little schooner of some -forty tons, owning a tiny oil engine that sometimes -worked and sometimes did not—more commonly the -latter—was chartered; also a couple of boats for -diving work, and two sets of diving dresses; and a -cheap crew was picked up somewhere, and some poor -provisions laid in. Everything was done on the most -economical scale possible—yet the Scotchman grumbled -and lamented, and declared he would never see his -money back. The shares had been fixed at a wickedly -low figure for Saxon and there were, furthermore, -clauses in the agreement concerning expenses which -made that unlucky derelict swear fiercely when he read -them after he was sober. It was too late to complain -then, however, for he had signed everything he was -asked, under the influence of the good whisky to which -M'Coy—liberal for once—had freely treated him. Nor -did he get any sympathy from Vaiti. She merely -laughed when he complained, and told him frankly -that he would have done better to stay in his cabin -and drink there, if he liked, leaving her to finish what -she had begun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So the pearling ship sailed off, and Saxon, who could -not afford to stay in port, went another voyage. And -some months later, when he came back, it was to find -that Delgadas Reef was cleaned out. It had held not -much after all, said the Glasgow man, and shell was -down, and the pearls had been few and off colour. But -there was enough to pay Saxon's debt and leave him -owner and master of the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> once more. And there -might be a few pounds in addition—not much; but -there, he was an honest man, and he would rather ruin -himself than let Saxon and the charming Miss Vaiti -feel they were badly treated. And if Saxon would -kindly sign this paper releasing him from all further -claims, he would be happy to give over all claim in -the ship. Otherwise—money was tight, and that -little matter between them had been owing so long -that——</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Saxon interrupted with a statement to the effect that -he knew blank well he had been blank well had, and -for the sum of two sanguinary sixpences he would be -prepared to knock Mr. M'Coy's doubly condemned head -off his unpleasantly qualified shoulders—only, luckily -for Mr. M'Coy, he was sick of him and the like of him, -and merely wanted to get out of his way as soon as -he possibly could. With which concise summing up of -facts he signed the paper, picked up the cheque, and -went out to spend it after his own fashion. Vaiti -secured half of it at the bank where he cashed it, and -went off with the money done up in her hair, to keep -house by herself on the schooner until her father should -turn up again. She knew him too well to expect that -that would come about immediately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile, there were banks in which she could -deposit her own share, and thus feel herself a step -nearer to her goal—that dim, undefined goal that was -to be reached somehow, some time, through the possession -of the precious bits of paper and coin without -which all pleasant things were impossible. She did not -decide at once where the money should go, but hid it -in her cabin, and day by day walked the pavements of -Wellington, delighting her eyes with the shop-window -beauties which she had so seldom seen. Thus came her -undoing. Vaiti had never heard the saying, "We are -none of us infallible, even the youngest," or she might -have been less certain of herself before it came about, -and less bitter afterwards.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For was it not natural that when Saxon unexpectedly -reappeared at the Constantinople Hotel with a good -deal of his money still left, and sent for Vaiti to join -him and "live like a lady while she could," the -improvident island blood should all unbidden well up and -smother everything else? Why go on? There are -shops in Wellington—there are as many ways of getting -fifteen shillings' worth out of a sovereign, and repeating -the process a great deal oftener than one means, as in -any other of the world's big ports.... The end was -that, after ten delirious days of glorious spending. -Captain Saxon and his daughter set sail for Tahiti with -a general cargo, a complete set of empty pockets between -them, and, on the part of Vaiti, a glad remembrance -more than half stifled by angry regret for the cost. Yet, -and yet, what a lovely thing money was, and what a -pity that one could not both spend and keep it! If -you did the one, you were happy, but no one thought -anything of you. If you did the other, everyone paid -court to you, but you didn't get the fun. Yes, that -was true of money—and of other things. Girls who -had been brought up at convent schools understood a -lot that the ignorant beach girls didn't.... And, </span><em class="italics">bon -Dieu!</em><span> as they used to say in Papeëte, when the Sisters -couldn't hear—what a headache it gave her to think, -and what a fool she was to do it!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ruru!" she called in Maori to a native sleeping -peacefully on the deck. "Wake up, pig-face, son of a -fruit-bat, and make me kava immediately. I am -weary."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was many weeks after, and the hot season had come -round once more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The schooner was slamming helplessly about on a -huge glassy swell. Everything on board that could -rattle, rattled; everything in the cabins that could -break loose and take charge, did so, sending up a -melancholy chorus of crashes with every wallow of the ship. -The great mizzen sail slatted about above the poop, -offering and then instantly withdrawing a promise of -cooling shade, in a manner that was little short of -maddening, seeing that the hour was three o'clock, -and the latitude not four degrees south. Friday Island -looking like a small blue flower on the rim of a crystal -dish, hovered tantalisingly on the extreme verge of -the horizon, as unattainable as Sydney Heads or -heaven. For the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> was becalmed, a week's -from anywhere in particular, and there seemed no -chance of a breeze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lord," said the mate, dropping the marlinspike -with which he was splicing a rope, and mopping his -forehead with his rolled-up sleeve, "I wonder 'ow many -thousand miles we are from an iced beer!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Turtle!" said Vaiti, taking a slim brown cigar out -of her mouth, and looking down from her seat on -the top of the deck-house. "Only nine hundred -and eighty-seven. You not remember Charley's in Apia?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd forgotten Samoa," said Harris, in a more cheerful -tone, picking up the marlinspike, and going to work -again, as if revived by Vaiti's arithmetic.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A miss is as good as a mile, for all me, specially when -it's nine hundred mile," remarked the gloomy boatswain. -"Couldn't you manage to talk about something -rather less 'arrowing to a man's insides?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd like to know why she's going skull-huntin' to -Friday Island, then," said the mate, casting a cautious -glance at Vaiti, who was scarcely out of ear-shot, up on -the deck-house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Trade I can understand," he went on, "and -shell-huntin'—we haven't done too bad all round over that -last little job, and the old man's a sight more sober -since he's owned the ship again. But skulls—and old -skulls at that—filthy natives' bones that's been lyin' -in the caves since Heaven knows when! Besides, they -ain't our skulls, however you may look at it——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nor I hope they won't be," said the boatswain -darkly. "In no way, I mean. The Friday Islanders -aren't people to ask out to an afternoon tea-party -without you've got your knuckle-duster on underneath -your voylet kid gloves. And you know what natives -are about their old bones and graves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do. What I don't know is how she thinks she's -going to make anything out of a proper nasty job like -that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, she's on the make, is she!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you ever know her anything else, bless her?" -asked the mate. "She wants sixty pounds, havin' -spent all the old man give her out of the shell business -in Wellington, takin' boxes at the theaytres and halls, -and buyin' women's gear, and staying at the Constantinople, -where she wore two new 'ats a day for a week; -and other games of a similar kind. Pity you was sick, -and not there to see the fun. I tell you, she made the -town look silly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the sixty pound for?" asked the boatswain, -chewing fondly on his quid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Harris giggled explosively, and whispered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She wants a Dozey dress!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What in ——'s that? It don't sound respectable," -virtuously observed the boatswain, who had never heard -of the famous French dressmaker.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You bet it is, then. Dozey's a regular bang-up -swell in Paris, who makes the most expensive gownds in -the world, and every one in them parts treats him just -the same as a baronight or a duke. You can't get so -much as a jumper from him for less than sixty pound, -and Vaiti she says every woman in Papeëte or Aucklan' -or Sydney who saw one of his dresses would spot it -right away, and go and throw herself over the Heads. -She read about his things in a piece in one of them -female papers in the hotel, and she saw an actress -wearin' of one, and she's been layin' out to get one -ever since, somethin' awful. Seems when a woman in -London, or Paris, or Yarmouth gets a Dozey dress, -and takes to standin' off and on before the others, -who's only got new velveteens with musling frills or -such-like it just makes them other women drag their -anchors and run head-on to the shore. So Vaiti, -she——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hold on," interrupted the boatswain. "Why, if -she 'ad one of those gownds, she couldn't bend it on to -her yards, not if it cost a million. Man alive, she ain't -laid down on the same lines as them Frenchwomen, -anyway."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You let her alone for that," chuckled Harris. "But -what beats me is </span><em class="italics">who</em><span> she's going to do with them skulls, -and </span><em class="italics">how</em><span>. We won't know in a hurry, either, because -she and Pita's fixed it up between them to do the job -alone. Thank 'eaven for small mercies, says I. 'Er -on the war-path's rather more than I care for; and this -isn't going to be any picnic, if I know anything of -natives."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pita!" whistled the boatswain. "The old man -will 'ave 'is gore before the voyage is out, if Vaiti goes -on like this. It's Ritter, that fat German trader in -Papeëte, that he's wanting to marry her to; and as -for natives, it's 'ands off for them, if she is 'alf of one -'erself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, she and Pita was planning it all out in the -fore-top last night. I heard them, when she thought -I was sleeping on the top of the galley. And the old -man came out and roared at her like a Marquesas bull -to come down; so down she came, laughing at him, -like the devil she is. There's no one else on this ship -would laugh, without it was on the wrong side of his -mouth, when the old man gets ratty. Coming! All -right!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The mate jumped to his feet, and answered Vaiti's -sharp hail in person, a deprecating smile spreading like -spilt treacle all over his face as he came up to her, cap -in hand. Vaiti took her cigar out of her mouth, and -looked at him for a minute without speaking. The -</span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> rolled on the towering swell like a captured beast -trying to beat its brains out against a wall, but Saxon's -Maori daughter stood as steady as the slender main-mast -upon the reeling deck. Harris smiled more than ever, -and turned the marlinspike about in his hands, looking -a little foolish.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You wanting Captain Saxon come and lay you out -in the scupper pretty soon?" inquired Vaiti presently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not particular," answered the mate, the smile -sliding slowly off his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I think perhaps you keep your mouth more -better shut," said Vaiti, walking off with a contemptuous -swing in the very fall of her laced muslin skirts. And -Pita of Atiu, as if in defiance of the captain, the mate, -and every one else but his cousin Vaiti, pulled a mouth-organ -out of his shirt and began to play it triumphantly -and frantically, making a noise exactly like the buzzing -of a mad bluebottle on a warm window-pane. Further, -he plucked a frangipani flower out of the wreath—a good -deal the worse for wear—that hung round his neck, -and stuck the blossom behind his ear. Now, every one -who has ever been in the Islands knows that these two -actions are significant of courtship. Pita was courting -Vaiti, as everybody knew—Pita, a mere deck hand, -who had been taken on at wild Atiu, in the Cook Islands, -because he was a relation of Saxon's dead native wife. -Very handsome was Pita, very young and tall and -broad-shouldered, wily and fierce like all the Atiuans, -but smooth and pleasant of countenance. Were not the -men of Atiu nicknamed "meek-faced Atiuans," even in -the days, only a generation gone, when they were the -cruellest and most warlike of cannibals and pirates?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Needless to say, Captain Saxon, who had always had -"views" for Vaiti, ever since she left the Tahitian -convent school that had given her such fragments of -civilisation as she possessed, did not favour the -compromising attentions of Pita. As for Vaiti, her father's -prohibitions neither piqued her into noticing the -handsome Atiuan more, nor alarmed her into favouring him -less, than she found agreeable. At present there was -rather more than less about the matter, because Saxon -was in one of his fits of gloomy depression, and Vaiti -foresaw the usual result. It was not at all likely that -her father would be able to help her in her forthcoming -raid. Harris she did not choose to rely on at a pinch; -Gray was old; the crew were far and away too superstitious -to aid in such a sacrilege as she proposed. There -remained Pita, who, if he was a wild Atiuan, was at -least "misinari" after a fashion, had been educated, -more or less, in Raratonga, and was most certainly in -love with herself.... Yes, Pita would do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That night, when the second dog-watch had commenced, -and a lew large crystal stars were just beginning -to glimmer through the pink of the ocean sunset, Vaiti -descended to the cabin, looked into Gray and Harris's -berths to make sure that they were both on deck, and -then sat down on the cushioned locker opposite her -father.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" asked Saxon, raising his heavy blue -eyes. He had been sitting with his head propped in -the corner of the cabin, silent as a fish, since the clearing -away of tea an hour before. You might have thought -him asleep, or, if you knew him intimately, drunk. He -was neither; but dead and drowned things were rising -up from the black sea caverns of his heart to-night, and -their bones showed white and ghastly upon the desert -shores of his life. So he sat silent, with his face turned -to the darkening porthole and to the night that was -striding down upon the sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Through the port he saw the shining harbour of -Papeëte as it looked a week or two ago—a tall grey -British war-ship lying at anchor, the </span><em class="italics">Sybil's</em><span> dinghy, -small and crank and unclean, creeping up to the -man-of-war's accommodation-ladder, himself, a -weather-scarred, red-faced figure, in a worn duck suit and -bulging shoes, sitting in the boat, and waiting patiently -until the Governor's steam-launch should have passed -in front of him and discharged its freight of visitors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He saw the captain of the great Queen's ship standing -at the top of the ladder, slight and trig and trim, all -white and gold from top to toe, all smiling self-possession -and cool command.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He saw ladies, immaculately coiffed and daintily shod; -tall, clean, grey-moustached men following them; a -cordial welcome on the deck; a flutter of light drapery -and a glimpse of lounging masculine figures afterwards, -framed by the great open gun-ports of the captain's -cabin in the stern. They were laughing and talking, -and he could hear the clink of cups and glasses. After—a -long time after—he could see his own shabby little -boat creeping up to the ladder; the captain, cold and -business-like, and more than a little brusque, speaking -to him on the deck about a certain anchorage in the -Cook Islands group, concerning which he was known to -have information; himself, burningly conscious of his -shoes and his finger-nails, answering shortly and with -some embarrassment, and feeling, of a sudden, very -shabby, very broken, very old.... Was it twenty-five -years, or two thousand, since the Admiral of the Fleet, -and the Prince of Saxe-Brandenburg, with half the -mess of his own regiment, had dined on board his biggest -yacht at Cowes a week before—it—happened? ... Now -a mere commander left him standing on the deck, -and spoke to him like a native or a dog. Well, what -did it all matter to a dead man? Was not his name of -those days carved on the family monument in letters -half an inch deep, and was not he, Edward Saxon, -whom nobody knew, out here in the living death of the -farthermost islands, a thousand miles from anywhere? ...</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Father," said Vaiti.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" answered Saxon's voice dully, as -befitted a dead man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The wind is rising at last," said the girl in Maori, -"We shall be off the island by morning. Will you, or -will you not, go with me into this cave of death, where -I have told you that I shall find what is worth finding?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have no heart. I will not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I and Pita will go," said Vaiti, fixing the -Englishman's blue eyes with her own black, stabbing -and savagely unfathomable, yet set in Saxon's very -own narrow high-bred face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The captain's dark mood was on him, and he turned -his face to the wall, with a Maori oath consigning Vaiti -and Pita to a cannibal end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I go; stay you there," said Vaiti, using the quaintly -courteous native form of farewell, barbed with a little -sneer unknown to the original. Then she went to her -cabin. And Saxon turned in his seat, and reached for -the brandy bottle at last.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Handsome Pita had a great awe for Vaiti, for she -was a princess of Atiu by her mother's side. But she -was beautiful, and he admired her—also he hoped that -her imperious soul harboured one soft spot for him. -It seemed good, on the whole, when they were pulling -the dinghy over the reef next morning, to ask Vaiti -openly where the value of the booty came in—with a -secret hope in the background of securing as much as -possible for a certain very deserving, more or less -Christian youth of Atiu.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti, her white dress girded up high over her scarlet -pareo, waded through the last yard or two of the emerald -lagoon before she answered. The boat being safe on -shore, she stood up and looked sharply about her. They -had chosen a quiet spot at the back of the island for -landing, all the natives being down at the harbour -loading copra. The weird pandanus trees, standing on -their high wooden stilts at the verge of the shore, the -rustling coco-palms swinging their great fronds far over -the water, the golden and pink-flowered vines trailing -yard on yard of green garlandry over the paper-white sand, -could carry no tales, and they were the only witnesses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti looked at Pita up and down, from head to foot, -and Pita gave the flower behind his ear a knowing cock, -and set one hand saucily on his hip. He knew that he -was the handsomest man in the Cook archipelago, and he -felt that the way his pareo was tied that day was a pure -inspiration. So he shut up his mouth very tight, and -made play with his burning black eyes as only a South -Sea Islander can, waiting confidently the while for the -information that the whole ship's company of the -</span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> could not have extracted from Vaiti in a week.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl stepped forward, and with a commanding -finger tapped Pita's biggest dimple, as if he had been -a baby.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Suppose I tell you, then you know too much, you -plenty frighten, go back to ship," she laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Speak Maori, high chieftainess!" implored Pita.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No fee-ah!" answered Saxon's daughter succinctly. -Pita understood at once that Vaiti was unwilling to use -a language that gave free rein to her tongue and his, -and the knowledge elated him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps I tell you," went on Vaiti, watching him -narrowly. "I think you got heart in belly belong you, -more better than Alliti. I tell you, you want plenty -heart by-and-by."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"High chieftainess, Vaiti, speak Maori!" was Pita's -answer, linked to an attempted embrace that only fell -short of its main object because Vaiti quite calmly -pulled a seaman's knife out of her dress and laid it edge -upwards across her lips. Pita, who had learned the -real European kiss during his visits to civilisation, and -wanted very much to show it off, felt disappointed, -although there was a smile behind the blade that almost -out-dazzled the steel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Maori!" he persisted, putting his arm round her -waist, with a cool disregard of her well-known readiness -with the knife that won Vaiti's admiration a step -further than before. She laughed, wavered, and then, -still playing with the keen, bright blade, she lowered it -a little, and spoke in the soft language of the Islands -at last.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a fairly long tale that she had to tell. When -last the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> had been in the Society Islands, some -weeks before, there had been a German man of science -in the group, collecting native skulls for museums at -home. The grizzly old gentleman and his pursuits had -not troubled Vaiti's mind particularly until her chief -admirer, Ritter, a Papeëte trader, happened to drop a -remark one day about the amount of money some of -these old skulls were worth. Vaiti's sharp intelligence -linked on the casual saying at once to certain other -wandering rumours she remembered, and she decided -to find out something more. She did not ask Ritter, -for he was no talker, even to a handsome girl whom he -admired; and the German was his compatriot, in -any case. But when the schooner reached Raiatea, -where Professor Spricht was staying, Vaiti drifted off -among the native huts, and squatted for an hour or -two on the mats of the second chief's wife's mother's -cousin's house, smoking a great deal, talking very little, -and listening quietly. By degrees the house filled up -with interested natives all eager for gossip and chatter; -and to Vaiti, pulling steadily at her cigar, and maintaining -the grave, unsmiling demeanour proper to a princess -of Atiu and a great Belitani chieftain's daughter, the -drawing out of the secret she wanted was as easy as -spinning sinnet out of cocoanut husk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nothing is private in the Eastern Pacific, and it was -not long before all the professor's personal affairs were -tossing about like seaweed on the flood of general -gossip—mostly unfit for publication—that surged about -the apparently uninterested ears of the silent, splendid -sea-queen throned on the pile of pandanus mats.... -The Siamani (German) had got skulls in Niué, in Uea, -in Mangaia, and was now collecting them about the -Society group.... He was an ugly, grey-snouted pig -to look at, and rooted in the earth like any pig; still, -Taous and Mahina, daughters of Falani, seemed to think -that—(details lost in a heated argument about the -personal characteristics of the ladies).... Anyhow, -Vekia from the hills said he was going to buy her two -silk dresses from San Francisco when he came back -from Falaite Island; so he was not as mean as he -looked. Yes, he was going to Falaite Island in a great -hurry; he would not even take time to finish his -pig-rooting in Raiatea, on account of something he had heard -from an old man who had once lived up in Falaite.... -What fools the papalangi (whites) were. Did not every -one in the Islands know about the old, old people that -used to live on Falaite, hundreds of moons before the -days of Tuti (Cook), and how they all died, and nobody -lived there for very, very long, until some people -wandered up from Niué in Tuti's time; and how the skulls -of the old, old people were still there, buried in a cave -that was a hundred miles long, and guarded by as many -devils as would fill twenty war canoes? Of course, -these things were known, and always had been—but -when would any man of Tahiti or Raiatea have thought -of such folly as travelling more than a thousand miles -to fight the devils and take away the skulls? What -if they were worth money enough to buy a big schooner, -as the old grey pig had told Vekia when he promised -her those dresses? Would a whole schooner, loaded -down with dollars, be any good to a man after the devils -had killed him? Vekia would never get her trade -finery, for all her airs; and Jacky Te Vaka, whose -schooner was to be hired to take the Siamani up to -Falaite, would never come back from such a sacrilegious -journey.... Why could he not wait, and go by -Kapitani Satoni's schooner when she made her yearly -trip by and by? Every one knew that the </span><em class="italics">Sipila</em><span> was -under a charm, and no harm could come to any one on -board her. But he would not wait, and just as soon as -Jacky's boat came back from Bora-Bora, next week, -they were to go.... Ahi! and Jacky was such a -handsome man—it was a great pity!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Such was the substance of the information gathered -by Vaiti. It resulted in her ordering the course of the -ship to be changed, and heading direct for Friday -Island, instead of going down to Auckland. Friday -Island—out of the way, infertile, uninteresting, and -little known—had been one of Saxon's private preserves -for some years. He touched there once a year, -purchased all the copra that the little place produced at -his own price, and paid for it in cheap tinned meat, -boxes of damaged biscuit, and tins of imitation salmon -instead of cash. He seldom went ashore, and certainly -did not waste his time cave-hunting, if he did chance -to set foot on the beach. Vaiti, with her odd faculty -for acquiring miscellaneous information, had known -since the first time the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> called that there were great -caves on the island, and that a devil of unusual quality -and size guarded them. So much might have been -said of a hundred similar islands, however, and she had -not troubled herself about either caves or devils until -the German professor's secret set her on the alert for -something that looked like a dangerous, exciting, and -profitable adventure.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-black-viri"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE BLACK VIRI</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Moreover, as Harris had said, she had been devoured -with desire of a real Paris dress ever since her stay in -the Wellington hotel. There had been a famous actress -there at the same time, and all her garments had been -freely paragraphed in the ladies' column of the local -press. When she swam languidly through the hall of -the Constantinople, shining mystic and wonderful out -of a cloud of rainbow silks and chiffons that had cost -a formidable row of figures in the Rue de la Paix, all -the women caught their breath, looked once, and then -gazed determinedly out of the windows, pretending that -they had noticed nothing. When she came in to a late -supper, floating in spangled mists and sparkling with -constellations of diamonds, every head was turned her -way, and half the heads—the short-cropped ones—stayed -turned, in more senses than one. It was a -revelation and a martyrdom to Vaiti. What were her muslin -frocks and her ten new hats at a whole pound apiece -compared to this? And the vision of money saved up -faded away for the time being before the vision of one -such frock—only one—belonging to her. Life could -surely offer nothing more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of this, naturally, she said nothing to Pita, merely -relating the matter of the skulls in as few words as -possible. Pita, for his part, made no comment, but -took a couple of revolvers out of the boat and thrust -one into his belt, handing the other to the girl. Then -he girded up his pareo—a significant action among -islanders—and felt the handle of his knife to see that it -was loose in the sheath. There was a large sack in the -boat containing candles and food, and leaving ample -space for other filling later on. Vaiti tossed it to Pita, -and the two began their walk, barefoot, swift and silent, -casting a quick glance every now and then among the -weirdly stilted stems of the lonely pandanus groves as -they went.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are all down with the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>—it is safer now -than it would be at night," said Pita. "Vaiti, if we -get these things, and sell them for much money in -Sitani, you and I will leave the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> when she next -goes to Atiu; and you shall be queen of Atiu and I -shall be king, and we shall eat roast pork and 'uakari' -every day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My father would burn the villages and kill the -chiefs, and hang your head on the bowsprit of the ship," -replied Vaiti conversationally. "Besides, I like Sitani, -and I will buy myself a wonder dress from Palisi town -there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then we will leave at Sitani, and be great chiefs -there, if these old bones indeed sell for so much money. -And we will buy a little schooner for ourselves, and -you shall be the real captain, and there will be four gold -bands on your sleeve and one on the peak of your cap; -and you shall get a </span><em class="italics">sitificati</em><span> from the chiefs of the great -harbour, and take the schooner out of Sitani Heads -yourself. And every one shall be afraid of me and you, -and they will say——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti had been listening as she swung along, now casting -a glance of approval at the handsome lad while he spoke -cunningly of the schooner she should command, now -shooting out her lip a little, and slashing impatiently -with her knife at the young cocoanut fronds. Suddenly, -looking very straight ahead, she interrupted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pita, you talk too fast. There are things you do -not know. Tell me, is your heart strong within you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is strong," answered the island Maori.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then listen. There is a devil in the cave."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not believe in devils. I am misinari, and go -to church five times on Sundays; also I have a black -coat and two boots very nearly the same as each other -to wear on collection days."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is a devil all the same; you do not know -everything that is in the world, little Pita," replied -Vaiti. "There is something bad there. I do not -believe in native devils, for I am 'papa-langi'; but I -know there is—a thing of some kind—there. A bad -thing. A black viri, they say, but I do not understand -that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A black viri is nothing. You and I do not mind -such things. See—there will perhaps be one in this -rotten wood." Pita struck and kicked at a mass of -decaying cocoanut wood, and hunted out one of the -great black centipedes that are common in the equatorial -islands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There is nothing on the bosom of Mother Earth more -loathly than the centipede, and Pita's quarry—nearly -a foot long, as thick as a sausage, scarlet feelers on its -hideous head, and scarlet legs fringing its long lithe -body—was as hideous a specimen as ever jerked itself -lightning-wise across a forest path. Pita, however, -with swift dexterity, seized the horrible beast by the -neck and tail, holding it so that it could neither bite -nor sting, and lifted it up to his companion. Vaiti's -eyes dilated ever so little. She drew her knife and -slashed the creature in two; then, stooping down, she -struck at the flying halves as they ran away in opposite -directions, and cut them up into mincemeat. Leaving -the red fragments still wriggling in the track amidst an -unsavoury, snaky smell, she stepped swiftly on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is no matter," she said. "We two shall see what -we shall see. Keep your heart warm within you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And if we come back safe?" cried the impetuous -Pita, catching the girl's warm round arms in his two -sinewy hands, and letting his black eyes gaze into hers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti stood very still for a moment, looking out to sea. -The spell of her stillness fell on Pita, and he remained -as if frozen. Far away the surf hummed on the reef, -and a sea-bird cried. Above the two beautiful, -motionless young figures the palms rustled endlessly in the -long trade wind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"... If we come back" ... said Vaiti at last, her -eyes still fixed on the far-off line of the outer sea—"if -we come back—we will go away together, you and I."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked so like a witch in a trance (such things are -not unknown even now, in strange Atiu) that Pita's hands -dropped from her arms, and he felt half frightened in -the moment of his triumph. But Vaiti recalled him to -himself by starting her steady swing again, and saying -with a laugh, as they footed it through the dry, -sun-struck woods side by side:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think some day my father will make a parrot cage -to hang a green Atiu parrot in, and it will be made of -your ribs and breast-bone, little Pita—all the same as -my grandfather did in the islands to the man who stole -his wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At that moment the woods opened out and the cave -came into view—a velvet-dark blot in the dazzling -glare of greenery that tangled itself about the shoreward -cliffs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pita's hand sprang to his revolver, and he uttered an -exclamation of angry surprise. Beside the cave stood -a tall, brown, naked figure painted like a witch-doctor -and armed with a spear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do not shoot," said Vaiti quickly. "It will do no -good. Let me look to him myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She walked right up to the native, stood within a -yard of him, and stared at him, in a silence that somehow -managed to express unflattering things. The man, -stamping the butt of his spear on the ground, turned -away from her and addressed Pita.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have nothing to do with this woman of yours," -he said. "It is with men I would speak."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Speak, then, pig-face," said Pita insolently, hoping -to provoke a fight, since the man seemed to be alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Enter if you wish," replied the other. "We have -sent no fighting-men to hinder you; the way is clear. -Yet if you think the hot sun on the pleasant land is good -to see, and the beating of the warm heart in the living -breast is sweet to feel, go not into our sacred caves, to -lay evil hands upon the holy bones of Falaiti. Enough."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man's words were strangely void of heat or anger, -and he held his spear loosely, Vaiti did not suspect an -ambush, for she knew that no native would enter the -cave. Yet in that moment her quick mind leaped to -the knowledge of some unknown danger threatening -herself and Pita from out the cold-breathing world of -darkness that lay within that rugged arch, and for one -prophetic instant she could smell the very smell of -death.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Vaiti's courage was of the kind that rises, wave -by wave, the higher for all obstacle, and her spirit swelled -within her to flood-tide in that moment. She turned -upon the witch-doctor and laughed in his face. Then -she stretched out her hand, and Pita's leaped into it, -warm and strong, and together they stepped over the -threshold of the cave.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man outside cursed them, slowly and with relish.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall we not kill him?" asked Pita.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no use," said Vaiti. "It is plain to me -that all the tribe know, and they trust to the dangers of -the place, whatever these may be. This island is at -the very end of the world, it is true, and strange things -may happen here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, there is nothing that one might not believe -in this place," said Pita, looking back. Already the -gloom of Hades itself was winding about them, and the -air struck gravelike and cold. In the distance the mouth -of the cave cast a brief glow of emerald light upon the -dewy ferns and mosses close to the threshold, so that -they shone like the jewelled foliage of some magic forest -in a fairy play. Then came the dripping roof, the -enormous stalactite buttresses of the cave, dimly edged -with light; the oozing floor, and the lifeless dark.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti spoke not at all, as they walked side by side -down dark tunnel after dark tunnel, across empty, -thunderous-echoing black halls and archways—their -little candles flitting like fireflies through a dim world -of unconquerable gloom. Pita, however, was strangely -gay. He yelled aloud to set the echoes booming in the -black domes above, when they crossed some invisible -great goblin market-place, full of hollow sounds and -half-glimpsed monstrosities. He sang when the way -along the endless corridors grew tedious, and the glistening -stalactite candelabra succeeded one another, thick -as forest branches, for mile after mile unchanged. When -the path was barred by inky lakes of unknown depth -and ghastly chill, and the two explorers had to tie their -lights on their heads and swim for it, he pretended to -cry at the cold, and played tricks on Vaiti by slipping -behind her and catching her feet in his teeth. So they -went on, one in wild spirits, the other silent and grave. -And the hours of the sunny day slipped by dark and -changeless, as they passed farther and farther away -life and light into the cold black depths of the cave.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When it was about noon, as near as they could guess, -Vaiti took the biscuits and tinned meat out of the sack, -and they ate, squatting on the wet floor of the tunnel. -They knew that the journey was a long one, and that -the way could not well be missed, yet they were -beginning to feel a little uneasy now. Did this cave -go on for ever?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Somehow, the food did not cheer them and when -they rose and went on again they did not talk. And -now a worse difficulty than any they had yet encountered -suddenly barred the way. The winding tunnel along -which they were walking turned sharp round a corner, -and then ended to all appearance in nothing. They -stood at the edge of an empty gulf, black as a starless -sky and of depth unknowable. Thin trickles of light. -from the candles wavered faintly about its edges, and -showed that the colossal crack had a farther side, but -it was impossible to see what lay beyond, and the depth -below cast back the candle rays as an armoured hull -throws off a rifle bullet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pita detached a lump of rock and threw it over the -edge. Vaiti watched him with sombre eyes. "There -is no bottom there," she said. "It goes through the -earth, and out on the other side; that is what I think."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Children's talk," said Pita, listening intently. -There was an echoing rattle as the stone bounded from -side to side on its way down. The rattle grew fainter -and fainter, diminished to a sound like the ticking of a -watch, faded to an almost imperceptible vibration, and -then seemed to die out. Seemed—for although there -was nothing left for the ear to catch, the sharpened -sensory nerves of the body still responded to a faint -tingle, somewhere, somehow, long after the actual sound -had faded away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I told you," said Vaiti. "There is no bottom." Pita -did not answer; he was measuring the narrowest -part of the gulf with his eye, and estimating the value -of the three short steps of a run that were possible before -taking off.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is not two fathoms wide here," he said, throwing -the provision sack across to judge his distance better in -the uncertain light. Yet, despite the three steps of a -run, there was not an inch to spare when he landed on -the other side, with an effort that strained every muscle -of his powerful young body.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you jump it?" he called to Vaiti—without -any particular anxiety, for the Maori has no nerves, -and he knew what the girl could do aloft on the schooner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To his astonishment, Vaiti made no answer, but -stood leaning up against the wall of the tunnel, both -hands pressed against her chest. In a moment more -she was violently sick.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The smell!" she said presently, turning a ghastly -face towards the light of Pita's candle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I smell nothing," said Pita, puzzled. "The wind -blows your way. There is perhaps some dead thing -down there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti shook her head, and Pita saw that her eyes -seemed to fill half her face as she looked down into -the gulf. Suddenly she sprang, her white drapery -flying behind her, and landed half a yard behind Pita, -with a leap that drew a cry of wonder from the Atiuan. -"Come, come," she said, taking his hand and fairly -dragging him on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had little farther to go. The tunnel wound -on for perhaps another hundred yards, and then stopped. -They found themselves in a low-roofed circular chamber, -such as is often met with at the end of long underground -passages—a small, insignificant place, roofed with -drooping green stalactites and floored with shapeless, -slimy hummocks of stalagmite. Numbers of deep -shelves were quarried out in the rocky sides, and in -these lay, row on row, the bare, mouldering skulls -of Falaite's long-ago chiefs—many of them cracked -and split, and not a few fallen into shapeless fragments, -though there were a score or two in excellent condition. -They were curious skulls indeed, had their discoverers -been able to understand them. In the projecting jaws, -huge canines, strangely high cranium, and oddly -developed ridges near the opening of the ear were the -materials of a problem contradictory and complicated -enough to occupy the wits of a whole college of science. -But Vaiti and Pita saw none of these things. They -only noted with disappointment, that most of the skulls -had gone to decay—picked out the best of the unbroken -specimens, packed the great sack full of them, -and turned homewards.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Vaiti," said Pita, as they walked down the rocky -tunnel, and felt the slope of the gulf beginning under -their feet. "Vaiti, what did you——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her face, turned back upon him, slew the still-born -question on his lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was scarce a minute before the chasm gaped in -their path yet again. The leap was worse on this side, -for the clustered cones of stalagmite did not allow a -fair take-off. Pita looked calculatingly at the farther -side, very dimly visible in the faint candle-light, and -picked up a fallen stalactite to throw across.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do not throw!" said Vaiti, in a breathless whisper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why not? I can jump better if I hear where it -hits," replied Pita, casting the stone before Vaiti had -time to snatch at his hand. It fell short, and rolled -down into the chasm with a loud, crashing noise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fool! fool! Jump quickly!" exclaimed Vaiti, -in the same strained, horrible whisper.... Just for -a second before he sprang, Pita looked down into the -black pit beneath, and it seemed to him that the -darkness shirred and shivered below the farther edge of the -crevasse—that for the fragment of a second something -long, red, whiplike, vibrated high up in the light of the -candles, and then was gone.... There was a sickening -odour in the air—a living smell, not a dead one; -there was a sliding, rustling sound....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jump!" shrieked Vaiti.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They leaped through the air as one, but it was only -Vaiti who landed on the farther side. Behind her, as -she touched the rock, rose a shriek that blasted the -leaden air into red-hot drops of horror—that went on -and on and on, tearing upwards to the vaulted roof -like a rocket fired from the mouth of hell; breaking -at last into a gasping bellow, and snapping off into -grisly silence on the very crest of a long, choking roar, -in which there was nothing left of human.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>... Pita had jumped short. Falling on the far side, -with his legs half over the abyss, he had grasped for an -instant at Vaiti's outstretched hands, and in the very -act had been snatched away—snatched by a long, -ghastly head, armed with poisoned jaws and quivering -red antennas, that shot with the speed of a bullet out -from the depths of the chasm, and back again with its -prey.... The head was a foot long at least, the -horrible winnowing feelers more than a yard, the black -and red body, that just flashed into view for a second, -was as thick as a man's thigh. It was a nightmare, an -impossibility, and yet ... it was, beyond doubt, the -Black Viri.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a little while it seemed to Vaiti that she went -mad, and then that the world went out and she died. -A long time after, she found herself sitting on the -floor of the tunnel, her head badly bruised and cut -where she had dashed it against the rock, her candle -guttering down towards extinction, her revolver empty -and smelling of powder—she did not remember in the -least how it had become so—and the whole black, -horrible place still and silent as the bottom of the sea. -Pita was gone. The bag of skulls had disappeared—fallen, -no doubt, into the abyss. There was not a movement -or a sound, save the whisper of the water—drops -trickling ceaselessly from the roof into the dark pools -upon the ground.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>That evening, when the early starlight was beginning -to shine down upon the creepers veiling the mouth -of the tunnel, Saxon, sober at last, and rushing like a -madman to the cave to find his daughter, met Vaiti -herself coming down the rocks at the entrance, haggard, -trembling, and almost old. He asked for Pita, and was -answered only by a shuddering gesture of the hands. -Questioning no more, he carried the girl down to the -beach and brought her on board the schooner. There, -when they had sailed, he left her undisturbed in her -cabin for many days, while they ran steadily southward -to pleasant Auckland and the temperate latitudes, -farther and farther away from lonely, sun-smitten -Falaite. The story of the day in the cave was known -to him, as to every one on the island, for the -witch-doctor of Falaite had told it far and wide, reserving -only the one interesting fact—how he became possessed -of the information. And as no one else alive on Falaite -knew that there were two ways of reaching the -skull-chamber, and more than one place where a man could -hide unseen, the witch-doctor's reputation as a prophet -and a clairvoyant was greatly increased; so that he -suffered continually from a happily-acquired indigestion, -and his dogs grew fat on bones of pig and fowl. And -no one came ever any more into the sacred caves of -Falaite Island.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Saxon declared plumply that he did not believe the -tale, opining rather that the "blanked old wizard -Johnnie had shoved Pita into the hole himself, and -good riddance of bad rubbish, too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>None the less, he was uneasy at Vaiti's rather prolonged -depression, and though he dared not break in upon -her solitude further than to hand her in her meals -and ask her how she felt, now and then, he listened -almost constantly at her state-room door, and gave up -whisky for at least ten days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>About the eleventh day, Te Ai, a young Samoan -A.B., sat upon the main hatch in the pleasant coolness -of the second dog-watch, and sang the farewell song of -sweet Samoa, "Good-bye, my F'lennie"—the song -that plucks so surely at the heartstrings of all who -have ever loved and sailed away among the far-off fairy -islands of the wide South Seas.</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"Good-bye, my F'lennie (friend)—o le a o tea,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Efau lau le va'a, o le alii pule i ..."</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>he sang, beating time with his knees on the hatch.... -Then suddenly he stopped, and the little group -of mates and captain on the poop did not see why.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Later on, Harris, his face stiff with suppressed -laughter, knocked at the captain's door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you oblige me with a piece of sticking-plaster, -sir?" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who for?" asked Saxon, reaching for the yellow -roll that lies handy in every shipmaster's cabin about -the peaceful Pacific.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Te Ai, sir. He's been knocked down, and his head -got cut against the pump."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who did it?" bristled Saxon, ready to uphold his -own peculiar privileges, at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She did, sir," said Harris, nearly choking. "Te -Ai, he was singin' 'Good-bye, my F'lennie,' on the main -'atch and out she come from the deck cabin like a—like -a nurricane, begging your pardon, sir—and she ups -with a belayin' pin from the rail, an——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right, all right; there's your plaster," -interrupted Saxon. "Harris! Here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give this to Te Ai."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lor' bless you, sir, 'e don't mind; 'e's a——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You do what you're told. Stop. Where's my -daughter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Walkin' on the poop, sir, uncommon lively, and -looking like dirty weather ahead."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right," sighed the captain, with an air -of infinite relief.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-diamond-web"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER V</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A DIAMOND WEB</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was six o'clock in Apia, and the round sun was -hanging low above the rim of the level sea, like a burning -coal ready to drop down upon a breadth of hyacinth -silk. The stores were closed along the straggling -beach street, where the sand was white under foot, -and parrakeets tweedled cheerily in the scarlet-flowered -flamboyant trees. Native dandies, greatly oiled and -dyed, and wearing a bright hibiscus blossom over each -ear, swung past with the inimitable Samoan roll, their -golden brown limbs gay with the red-and-white English -bath-towel that is popular as full dress for steamer -days in the little island capital. Girls with -high-coiffed yellow heads and pink or green tunics wandered -lazily home to the cool, dark-domed native houses -open all round to the sunset sky. They went in groups, -and sang as they walked—windy, fitful gusts of strange -island melody, breaking out and dying away like the -evening breeze among the heavy-headed palms. Smells -of yam and breadfruit, brown from the baking pits, of -fish cooked in green, savoury leaves, and taro spinach -stewed with cocoanut cream, crept out upon the cooling -air. The long, hot day was done, and Apia rested and ate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In "Charley's"—the least reputable of Apia's -tavern-hotels—the egregious </span><em class="italics">table d'hôte</em><span> was in full -progress out in the green-shuttered verandah. Charley -himself, an oily, flashy New Caledonian half-caste, -dressed in striped pyjamas, was eating curried -tin—nature unknown—with a knife and two fingers, at the -head of the table. A corpse-faced Chinese was shuffling -round with the inevitable Pacific fowl, cut up in a watery -soup. The table-cloth was of linoleum, the swinging -lamp guttered and smoked, the cutlery was dislocated -and black. But there was English beer on the bar -counter, and plenty of broken ice; and the whisky -that mounted high in each man's smeary tumbler was -good of its kind. Charley knew his customers, and -sought first the essential.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Saxon, his schooner safe at anchor outside, -and his copra advantageously sold to an Auckland -agent, sat eating at the table, heavy-faced, a little -intoxicated, and almost absolutely blank in mind. This -was his nearest approach to happiness, and one that -he enjoyed often enough, for, since thought meant -pain to him, he had managed to acquire a wonderful -agility in avoiding it, and to live for the most -part almost as purely by instinct and impulse as a dog.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was perhaps for this reason that he did not notice -anything unusual in the demeanour of that singularly -unknown quantity, Vaiti, his daughter. And yet -Vaiti—sombre and sparkling in a dress of vaporous -red, with a handful of star stephanotis from the verandah -thrust into the marvellous waves of her hair—was -evidently not quite herself. She sat a little apart from -the noisy company that sprawled about the table, -looked at no one, ate her food absent-mindedly and -pulled little strips off the decaying oilcloth of the -table-cover with a steady industry that made Charley -wriggle in his seat, although he did not dare to -remonstrate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some one else was watching her, if Saxon was not. -A short, stocky man, with burning grey eyes, a fiery -red beard, and a sharp furrow between the eyebrows, -that somehow suggested belaying-pins and rope's ends, -was looking at her every now and then as he noisily -sucked in his soup. The inspection did not appear to -please him altogether. He finished his dinner quickly, -took the current glass of whisky in his hand, and -rolled off to the dark end of the verandah, followed by -a grey-haired, greasy-faced mate who had been sitting -beside him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Still on for it, cap?" asked the latter, leaning over -the railing with an air of careless ease that contrasted -oddly with his watchful eye.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, blank asterisk your condemned foolishness, -sure I am on for it!" replied the captain, betraying -his nationality by a slight touch of brogue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There is no nation that swings so high and so low -between opposite extremes of character as the impetuous -race that is handcuffed, by an odd freak of geography, -to steady, serious England. Great saints and great -rogues are commoner in Ireland than ordinary people, -and each displays the fullest flavour of his kind. -Donahue, master of the island schooner </span><em class="italics">Ikurangi</em><span>, was, or -had been, Irish; and it was assuredly not the company -of the saints that claimed his membership.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two spoke together for a little while in level -tones that sounded loud and careless enough, yet -somehow did not carry. One learns these things by -practice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She smells a rat, I'm thinking," said the old mate, -looking critically the while at Charley, as if he were -valuing the half-caste's clothes for pawn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let her. You and I are apt to be a match for her, -for all that," answered the captain. He looked at -Charley also. You would have sworn the two were -discussing him, and rather unfavourably. Charley -himself shifted in his seat, and showed his magnificent -teeth uncomfortably.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Think she'll come on board?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti was watching them, her chin on her hand. -Her expression was not to be read.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll get her on board all right," answered the -captain, keeping his eyes away from the girl with an -effort. "You play up, that's all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Jer think you're a match for that weasel in a -woman's skin—you or any of us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do, then. Forty's a match for twenty any day -in the year, if the heads of them comes anything near -equal. Cunnin' as Old Nick she is, but I've been cunnin' -twenty years longer than her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You pitched her a good yarn, I'll lay."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I did that—about the derelick we boarded nor'-east -of the Paumotus, and the Spanish ladies' clothes and -cases of goods that was lying about, and how we took -what there was, includin' of a di'mond necklashe that -was sittin' all its lone on the table in the old man's -cabin (Be minding me, now, or you'll be making mistakes), -and the way a gale riz on us before we was through, -and hurried us back to the </span><em class="italics">Ikurangi</em><span>, so that we lost the -derelick, and didn't see no more of her; and how we -heard in Noumea afterwards that there was like to be -joolery on boord her, so that we're all on to go and find -her again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Straight fact up to finding the di'monds, and gory -lyin' after that, I see. But how d'ye make out the -people that deserted the ship was such fat-headed idiots -as to leave the joolery?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, they was fat-headed idiots right enough; -they did leave a good lot of saleable stuff, as you and -I knows; and it's only addin' on a bit to say that the -ship had been on fire and made them clear for their -lives, so that they didn't think of the valuables. There's -the necklashe I have for proof. And, mind me now, -what we heard was that the people of the ship knows -now that she didn't go down, and will be out after her -themselves when they can raise the cash, so that hurry's -the word."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How much of that's true?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a —— bit. The people was drowned, I allow. -But it hangs well, and don't you go and forget none of -it. I pitched the yarn that way because of that bit of -pashtry joolery I got hould of in mistake for goods -down Melbourne way.... I misremember if I tould you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You did, more nor once, and you was jolly well -served right by her," candidly replied the mate. -"The yarn's all right, I suppose, and the paste -necklace is good business; but where does this Vaiti -come in?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quit lookin' at her, ye —— fool, and give me a -light for me poipe. Talk easy, can't you.... Why, -she knows more navigation than most men that's got -a master's ticket, and she's as vain of it as a paycock. -And that's how I'll have her. Always get a woman -t'rough her consate, me boy, especially if her eyes are -too sharp in common. That'll pull the wool over them -when nothing else will."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When I was in Callao——" began the mate, with -an evil chuckle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Leave Callao be now; you can tell me about her -another time. Well, you understand about Saxon's -girl, I hope? She's to navigate us on the trip, because -nayther you nor I knows enough for a cruisin' job like -this, and the old chap himself is pretty general -drunk—that's the way I put it—and shares with what we find, -and the ould divil himself to come along, just for -propriety, and in case of a fight with the owners. Oh, -a nate yarn, and she shwallowed it down like a cat -atin' butter. She's comin' on boord to-night, to see -the necklashe and look over the chart I've marked. -She'll not bring ould Saxon, for she's feared of nayther -man nor divil, and I'll bet she thinks to get the bearin's -of the place off of me and chate me out of it after all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And how the h—— do you think she's going to -believe that you give the show away before the ship -sails? Her teeth wasn't cut yesterday, by all we know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Faith, and we do know!" muttered the captain, -with a horrible undercurrent of oaths. "And she'll -know, by —— she will! I'd slit the throat of her, -if it wasn't for the other bit of divarsion we've -planned."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Say you've planned," interrupted the mate darkly. -"I call it bad work, whether she was man, woman, or -child; but you're my master."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you're a plashter saint, ain't you?" sneered -the captain. "Let's have no more of your chat; we -know each other a —— sight too well. As for the -chart, she'll think we don't mean to give it away till -she and her father is under sail with us, but she'll come -on the chance of sneaking it out somehow. And when -we've got her aboard, why—lave it to me! Ould -Saxon's hell-cat daughter won't take no more -pearl-shell beds from us or any one else."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You ain't afraid of her knowing who we are?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How would she, then? The </span><em class="italics">Ikurangi</em><span> isn't the -</span><em class="italics">Margaret Macintyre</em><span>—bad luck to her who brought me -down to such a tub, after ownin' the finest auxiliary -in Auckland!—and she never seen you or me till to-day. -No, it's all right. That's enough jaw; you go aboard, -and attend to you know what, and then send off the boat -for her and me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti, curly classic head on slender hand, still watched -from her corner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Did she suspect? There was nothing for suspicion -to lay hold of. Donahue was one of the acutest villains -under the Southern Cross, and he did not make clumsy -mistakes. The story of the derelict, of the valuables -abandoned on board, of the necessity for finding the -ship soon and secretly, might have sounded far-fetched -to city-dwelling folk, but out in the wild South Seas -stranger things may happen any day. The plan was -neat and plausible from every point of view, and Vaiti -had taken the bait readily enough that afternoon. -Yet Donahue felt—as the two walked silently down the -dim, perfumed beach street, all ablow with vagrant -sea winds and wandering wafts of song—that he would -have given a good deal for just one peep into his -handsome companion's mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti walked beside him, looking straight ahead. -Had Donahue's wish been granted, he would have -thought somewhat less of his own acuteness. She did -suspect. A man, in her case, would have been -convinced by the reasonable aspect of the whole affair. -Vaiti, being a woman, with sea-anemone tentacles of -instinct floating and tingling all about the steady -centres of reason in her mind, was convinced, and vet -not convinced. She thought it was all right, yet she -knew it was not—after a woman's way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In any case, however, it was an adventure, and there -was a mystery to fathom. So she put on a more -substantial dress than the gauzy draperies she had been -wearing, hung the neatest possible little pearl-handled -Smith and Wesson round her neck, under the swelling -folds of her frock, by means of an innocent-looking thin -gold neck-chain that would snap with a tug; put her -long-bladed knife in her pocket, with the sheath sewn -to the dress, so that a pull would bring out the blade, -and joined Donahue an hour after dinner, on the verandah -steps, confident of her ability to see the thing through, -whatever it might be.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked sharply about her, as she stepped over -the low bulwarks of the </span><em class="italics">Ikurangi</em><span> and dropped down -on to the encumbered, untidy deck. No one about. -Nothing to be seen but a dirty little main deck, with -rusty pumps and a yawning hatch, and a poop that -even in the pallid light just beginning to tremble up -from the rising moon showed neglect of the sacred -ceremony of daily deck-washing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now, any decent ship's captain will attend to his -deck-washing, even if he doesn't shave or wash himself -from port to port. Vaiti did not like that unscrupulous, -dirty poop. But she was already up on it, and Donahue -was bowing her down the cabin companion, with a jarring -smile and a good deal of over-fluent blarney. The -cabin was small and smelly; it had an oblong table -in the middle, surrounded by cushioned lockers, and an -open door at the end facing the companion. This door -evidently opened into Donahue's own cabin, for a rough -wash-stand and a looking-glass, the latter hung high -on the bulkhead, were plainly visible. There was a -lamp nailed above the glass, and the two together shone -brightly out into the rather ill-lit main cabin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What'll you take?" asked Donahue, with his -unpleasant smile. "I've got some sweet sherry wine, -just the thing for ladies—or wouldn't ye put your lips -to a taste of peach brandy?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No good drink, suppose talk business," she said. -She would not have swallowed a glass of water on the -</span><em class="italics">Ikurangi</em><span> for a dozen Virot hats.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Donahue had not expected to catch her so easily; -still, he cast a thought of regret to his nicely-doctored -liquors. She evidently meant what she said—and the -other way Was harder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, thin, darlin', we'll have a look at the cha-art," -he observed, producing a roll of paper. "It's yourself -that can help us t'rough this business—you and the -ould man—better than any one from Calloa to Sydney -if only yez are raisonable about terms."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He spread the chart out on the table, and weighted -it down with a couple of tumblers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti, her mind charged full with watchful suspicion, -felt that sudden small, sick thrill that is the forerunner -of the thought—"I wish I hadn't!" Afterwards, -when she came to think matters over, she knew that it -was because Donahue had made the mistake of bringing -out the chart before the terms had been discussed, -which was an improbable sort of thing to do. In -such moments, however, one does not think, one only -feels. Still, the warning was unmistakable, and Vaiti -made as if to rise, intending to plead sudden illness and -get out on deck. But Donahue, sharp as a snake, saw -the movement, and brought out his trump card at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sure, I'm a —— fool, I am, to forget the necklashe! -You haven't seen that yet," he said, whipping a stream -of white fire out of his pocket and letting it fall across -the dark wood of the table. It was a magnificent piece -of paste-work, and had taken in Donahue himself, -some few weeks ago, after a fashion that made him sore -enough to remember. Vaiti gasped when she saw it, -and laid both her pretty olive hands upon it at once. -Her suspicions were not exactly killed, but they had -for the moment no room to live with the passionate -feeling aroused by the gems. Donahue, with his -unspeakable experience of the sex, had calculated rightly -when he classified her among the women who would -almost do murder for a diamond.... Such jewels! and -she had never had one in her hand before, -though her eyes had often filled and her heart -ached with hopeless desire before the maddening -glories of the jewellers' windows in Auckland and -Sydney.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She hugged the necklace to her breast like a baby, -she shook it, she danced it in the light.... And -then, was it in woman's nature to refrain from -snapping the clasp about her neck, and feeling the -dear touch of those cold drops and pendants on her -bosom?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, now, but you're the beauty wit' them little -jokers round your neck! And the lovely neck you -have, darlin'!" blarneyed Donahue. He had better -have been silent, for Vaiti, used to admiration of every -kind and degree as to daily bread, felt the falseness -of the tone. If all other men admired her beauty, -this one did not, though he said so. His grey, -goat-like eyes looked something more like hate across the -narrow table, under the ill-smelling oily lamp, and Vaiti -saw they did.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Donahue, taught by twenty years of active villainy, -was quick to feel the necessity for the next move. -He went into his own cabin and turned up the -lamp. The looking-glass shone out brightly under its -rays.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come and look at yourself, me beauty," he said; -"and let me ould shavin'-glass see the handsomest girl -in the islands wearin' what she ought to wear every -day of her life, if she'd her rights."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For the moment, Vaiti was not herself. She was -drunk with the jewels; she was crazed with the desire -to see herself in them. If heaven and hell had stood -between her and the looking-glass, she was bound -to go to it, and Donahue knew it, as surely as he knew -that the moon would set that night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti—still sensing the danger that she would not -heed, through all the intoxication of the jewels—thought, -in a cinematographic flash, that one was safe -before a glass, at all events.... No one could come -up behind you.... Besides, there was the little -revolver, hanging on the chain that would snap with -a tug....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then, for the space of a full minute, she saw -nothing, knew nothing, lived for nothing but the sight -of her own dark, beautiful face in the glass, lit up into -surpassing loveliness by the scintillating fires about her -neck. There was no movement in the mirror behind -her. Donahue sat motionless at the table, and the cabin -was very still.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>... The first ecstasy subsided, and she turned her -head a little to see the diamonds twinkle....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Donahue's elbow knocked a glass off the table with -a sharp crash. Almost at the same instant two powerful -hands closed on each of Vaiti's ankles, and snatched -her feet from under her. She plucked out the revolver -as she fell, but her hands were caught, whisked behind -her, and securely tied, with a prompt swiftness that -told of frequent experience. In another minute her -ankles were lashed together, none too gently; she -was carried into a small state-room, thrown down -upon the bunk, and left alone in the dark, with the -slam of the door and snap of the lock resounding in her -ears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Most women would have screamed. Vaiti remembered -that they were out in the middle of a wide harbour, -and decided not to risk the infliction of a gag for such -a slight chance of rescue.... Certain ugly scenes on -the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> rose up before her eyes. No; decidedly it -was her only policy to keep quiet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Outside there was the thud of bare feet running -about the deck, the creak of the booms rising on the -masts, the slatting of loose sails—loud orders, long yells -from the native crew, as they pulled and hauled. The -</span><em class="italics">Ikurangi</em><span> was making sail.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then sudden silence, slow heeling over of the cabin, -lip-lap of hurrying water along the hull. They were off. -Where? God—or the devil—only knew!</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="marooned"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">MAROONED</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>There was plenty of time for reflection in the long -days that followed. The greasy-faced old mate came -in and cut the lashings off Vaiti's ankles and wrists, -a few hours after sailing, and she was left free to move -about the cabin, which offered a promenade of exactly -seven feet by three. Meals were handed in to her three -times daily—the usual black tea, tinned meat, and -weevily biscuit of second-class island schooners—and -she was not in any way molested, though the door -was always kept locked. Donahue put in his head once -or twice to look at her, as she sat cross-legged on her -bunk, staring out through the port at the tumbling seas. -He generally had something to say—a jarring, mocking -compliment, or a remark about the time they were -likely to make Sydney Heads—knowing all the time that -Vaiti could estimate the general direction of their -course by the sun, and that there was no southing in it. -If she had ever feared any one, she feared this man—almost.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was not difficult to understand how the capture -had been brought about. A man under the bunk, -another under the sofa opposite—her own eyes watching -only the upper part of the cabin as reflected in the -glass—nothing could be simpler or better planned. The -affair was none the less ugly on that account. Perhaps -it was only Vaiti's burning anger at her utter rout -and defeat in her own business of plotting and intrigue -that saved her from something very like despair, as -the schooner ploughed steadily on, day after day, -carrying her into the great unknown, farther and farther -away from all who could defend her. Yet, despairing -or not, Saxon's daughter never lost her courage. They -had taken her weapons from her as they carried her -into the cabin, but they could not take away her -undaunted spirit. She waited her time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As to the meaning of the business, she trusted, again, -to time's enlightenment. Saxon had many enemies; -so had she. It would all come out by-and-by. -Meantime, it was clear that no one meant to murder her. -What else might be meant she could not tell, and she -did not care to speculate overmuch. Under such -circumstances one does best to save one's nerve against -the time it may be wanted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was on the twenty-third day out from Apia, bearing, -as far as she could discover, in a north-westerly direction, -that she first noted the approach of land. Nothing -could be seen from her side of the ship, but she heard -the long, excited cries of the island crew, and the -thundering of their feet, as they began putting the ship -about with unwonted vigour, to a chorus of native -songs. She strained her eyes eagerly when the ship -came about on the other tack, but the line of the horizon -was unbroken; and it was not for another hour that -she saw, from her low elevation, what the look-out -in the crow's nest had sighted long before—a line of -small black bristles pricking the edge of the horizon -several miles away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti knew the sight at once for the palms of a -low atoll island—evidently some barren, sun-smitten -spot close up to the line—and a ready solution of -the whole puzzling affair at once sprang into her mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marooning!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Most people know the meaning of this term; nearly -every one has heard of sailors captured by pirates in -old days, and left on lonely islands, or even deserted -by their own comrades on some isolated spot, with just -enough food and water to save the marooners' -consciences from the guilt of actual murder. Vaiti knew -both the word and the thing very well-indeed, and she -was almost certain that the </span><em class="italics">Ikurangi</em><span> had gone off the -course on the way to some South American port with -the view of hiding her where she would not easily be -found again. There are many islands in the wastes -of the vast Pacific where a ship may not pass once in -half a century, and these—unlike the typical "desert" -island of stories—are almost always barren, hungry, -shadeless spots, where Crusoe himself would have been -hard put to it to make a decent living. The fertile, -mountainous, well-watered isle is never without a -native population, permanent or occasional, and is very -seldom indeed, in these days, without a trader as well, -and a regularly calling schooner. As for the breadfruit, -oranges, pineapples, the pigs and goats, the sugarcane -and maize of uninhabited islands as known to -fiction, they have no counterpart in real life. All the -valuable food plants and all useful animals are the -product of importation and cultivation, ancient or -modern. It follows, that where there are no people -and no ships, there is nothing worth having.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti knew this very well, and decided that if she was -going to be marooned, she might as well make such -provision as circumstances allowed. She had hunted -over every inch of the cabin—which seemed to belong -to the mate—during the long days of the voyage, and -she knew exactly what it contained. From the stores -put away under the bunk she selected a large new sheet, -which she concealed under her dress; a small stock -of needles and thread, a box or two of matches, some -hooks and line, and a stick of dynamite, evidently -meant for some forgotten fishing purpose. There was -nothing in the shape of a knife, much to her regret; -and there was a good deal of clothing that she would -have liked to carry away; but it would not do to take -more than she could easily conceal. So she made an -end of her preparations, and sat down to wait once more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no moon that night until very late, -and darkness came down so close on the stroke of -four bells that Vaiti felt sure they were very near the -equator. No one came near her, and tea seemed to -be unusually late. The anchor-chain roared home -soon after dark, the ship lay very still, and there was a -good deal of running about on deck. Vaiti was -confirmed in her anticipations of an uninhabited island -by the fact that no boat was to be heard coming off -from shore. Not a sound of any kind, indeed, came -from the island, and there were no lights on the beach. -Some one handed her in her tea by-and-by, and a -little later her door was flung open again by the mate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come on out," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti followed the mate out of the cabin at once, -rather to his surprise. She had made up her mind -that anything was better than the </span><em class="italics">Ikurangi</em><span>, and she -was looking out sharply for a chance—any chance—of -turning the tables.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It did not look at first as if she were to have one. -The dinghy had been swung out when she got on deck, -and a couple of men were standing ready to lower away. -They were islanders, and she knew that they would -befriend her if they could—indeed, their glances showed -as much—yet what could they do?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Donahue was nowhere visible. He had planned -this business with some forethought, and he wanted -to have a chance of casting blame on his subordinate -if any inquisitive Government official should incline -to look the matter up later on. So he stayed down -in his own cabin, pretending to be asleep, and the mate, -rather against his will, had to carry out orders alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just as the boat was ready to lower away, one of -the men let her go with a run, and she struck the water -stern first, with a terrible splash. The mate, screaming -curses, ran over to the falls and began to abuse the crew. -The dinghy was injured, and they had to haul her up -and swing out the whaleboat instead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This took some little time, and Vaiti was forgotten -for the moment—a chance that made her heart beat -with eagerness to profit by it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two ideas held possession of her—that she must -plan to secure a boat, and that she must manage to do -the </span><em class="italics">Ikurangi</em><span> some sort of mischief. Was it to be borne -that Donahue should go unpaid? The blood of a -hundred fierce Island chiefs made answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Concerning the boat, she thought she saw a chance. -They were bound to stay a day for wood and water, -and that should furnish an opportunity. But the other -matter?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If she could only get hold of the ship's papers and -destroy them! That would be satisfactory. She knew, -none better, that a ship's papers are her character, her -"marriage-lines" of respectability. Without them a -vessel is an illegitimate, furtive creature, every man's -hand against her, every official eye turned coldly upon -her. Vaiti would have liked very well to get hold of -the </span><em class="italics">Ikurangi's</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But, careless as Donahue was, the papers were not -to be found in the little deck cabin which he used as -a chart-room. Vaiti, disappointed, took one of the -charts and began studying the position of the ship, -with a view to finding out the name of the island off -which they were lying. The chart was almost a blank, -nothing being marked upon its wide expanse but a -number of reefs and two or three atolls—Bilboa Island, -Vaka, Ngamaru—dotted hundreds of miles apart in -a naked waste of white. Bilboa, an abandoned guano -island, of which she had heard something, seemed to -Vaiti the most likely of the three spots. Ngamaru, -she knew, had a native population, and about Vaka -she could for the moment remember nothing, although -she knew she had heard something once upon a time. -All this part of the Pacific was far removed from the -</span><em class="italics">Sybil's</em><span> haunts, and indeed from the haunts of any -other ship of which Vaiti had ever heard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It did not seem to be a healthy place for schooners; -the reefs round both Vaka and Bilboa were many, -and most were marked "Position doubtful." Donahue -was evidently not familiar with either place, for the -chart was freshly pencilled over with notes and -corrections. Vaiti's heart leaped up as she looked at the -careless work.... She saw a way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were still clearing the lumber out of the whaleboat -on deck. No one was watching.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti took a pencil and rubber, and began to do some -artistic alterations on the chart, helped by her -knowledge of seamanship. In ten minutes she had converted -the innocent piece of parchment into a perfect death-trap, -rolled it up and replaced it, put back the rubber -and pencil, and slipped out again on deck, where she -sat down on a coil of rope and waited.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In another couple of minutes the boat was in the -water, and the mate called rudely to Vaiti. She came -without a word, covering her face with her dress, and -sobbing bitterly. She stumbled as she walked; you -would have sworn she was weak, broken in spirit, and -utterly helpless.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If the mate felt any compassion, he did not dare to -show it. They shoved off, two natives at the oars. -Vaiti, sobbing effectively behind her hands, kept a sharp -look-out with the corner of one eye as they slid across -the dark water, but she could see nothing save a faintly -glimmering line of grey shore, and hear nothing but the -humming of the surf on the reef.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As soon as they reached the shallow water near the -shore, the mate took Vaiti by her arm and roared, -"Out you go!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sobbing afresh, in the most natural and convincing -manner in the world, she obeyed.... It was dark, and -the native who rowed bow oar never knew that she -whipped his knife dexterously out of his belt as she -passed him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why are you marooning me?" she wailed, as she -waded through the warm, shallow water towards the -shore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The mate leaned out of the boat, now fading fast away -into the starry gloom, and shouted as he disappeared:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To pay for Delgadas Reef and the </span><em class="italics">Margaret Macintyre</em><span>!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti, who had reached the shore, almost sat down with -the shock. So that was it! that was it! The pearl-shell -lagoon out of which she, almost unaided, had -"jockeyed" the schooner </span><em class="italics">Margaret Macintyre</em><span>, some -months before, was bringing in a crop other than pearls—of -which last, indeed, the canny Scot who had financed -the working of the place had had very much the larger -share.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, things must be taken as they were found. The -soft tropic night stirred gently round her. The stars -were large and golden; they shone in the still lagoon -like little moons. Palm trees waved somewhere up in -the dusk above, striking their huge rattling vanes together -with the swing of the night-breeze. It was land, safe, -solid land, and the sand was warm and soft, and Vaiti -was tired. She walked a little way up the beach, -stretched herself under a pandanus tree, and went to -sleep....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some hours later she woke, with the dim, mysterious -volcano-glow of the tropic dawn in her eyes, and a curious -feeling of disquiet about her heart. Still half asleep, -she saw the long grey shore sloping down to the silent -lagoon, the ink-coloured pandanus trees standing up -against the dull orange sky, the leaning stems and stumps -of coco-palms, dark and formless in the shadow. She -shut her eyes and tried to sleep again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No use. That nameless disquiet—now almost fear—still -stirred at her heart. She opened her eyes once -more, and looked about. A little more light—the touch -of a glowing finger away in the east—a clearer defining -of the cocoanut stumps, snapped off near their roots in -the last great hurricane.... One of the stumps was -oddly shaped—almost like a human figure. She could -have fancied it was a rude image of a sitting man, only -that the profile, against the lightening east, was -featureless, and there was nothing to represent the hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will not be frightened by a rotten cocoanut tree," -thought Vaiti. "I will sleep again till it is light. Am I -not a sea-captain's daughter, and the descendant of -great Island chiefs, and shall I fear the fancies of my own -mind?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Determinedly she closed her eyes again, and lay very -still. The dawn wind began to stir; the ripples crisped -upon the beach; the locusts in the trees broke out into -a loud chirr-ing chorus. And as the day broke silver-clear -upon the shore, Vaiti, still lying on the sand, felt -that some one, in the gathering light, was watching her -as she lay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wary as a fox, she opened her dark, keen eyes without -stirring her body ... and looked straight into a face -that was bending almost over her ... a face hooded -by a black cloth that hid the head and brow, and only -left to view ... O God! O God! what was it?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The thing was featureless. Nose, eyes, and mouth -were gone. In the midst of a cavern of unspeakable -ruin the ghastly throat gaped vacant. Two handless, -rotting stumps of arms waved blindly -about—feeling—feeling....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Could it hear? Some instinct told the girl that it -could. Softly as a snake she writhed out of the reach -of those terrible groping arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It did hear. It sprang blindly forward—it snatched.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With one leap Vaiti was on her feet. Never looking -back, she fled down the open beach, the sand spurting -behind her as she ran. She heard a dull padding in her -rear at first; it soon grew faint, but she ran on blindly, -long after it had died away—ran, while the sun climbed -over the horizon and cast down handfuls of burning gold -on her uncovered head—ran, while the beach grew -parchment-white and dazzled back the heat into her face like -an open furnace—ran till at last her over-driven body -gave way, and the sand spun round and the sky turned -red before her eyes. Then only she staggered into the -shade and dropped down upon a green mattress of -convolvulus creeper to rest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And now, when she had leisure to think and strength -to cast off the haunting horror of that inhuman face, -she knew what Donahue had done.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was not Bilboa, the uninhabited guano island -that she had feared. This was infinitely worse—it was -Vaka, the leper isle!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She remembered that she had once heard a dim -rumour of Vaka and its ghastly leper people—the remnant -of a plague-smitten tribe long ago forcibly exiled there -from one of the fierce western groups. No ships ever -called at this graveyard of the living; it was supposed -that the cocoanuts and fish of the island provided -sufficient food for the people, and no one cared to run the -chance of their stowing away and escaping, especially -as they were known to be both daring and treacherous -on occasion. Donahue had indeed laid his plans well for -the most hideous revenge that the heart of man or devil -could conceive. A few weeks or months in this charnel-house -of horrors, where the very air must reek of contagion, -and what would it avail her if, after all, some -stray, storm-driven vessel should rescue the castaway? -Better, then, that she should stay and die among the -other nameless nightmare horrors that walked these -stricken shores.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No! Vaiti, sitting cross-legged on the netted vines -and staring grimly out to sea, then and there took resolve -that such a fate should not be hers.... Sharks were -uncertain, if you really wanted them; but the stick of -dynamite she had taken from the mate's cabin was safe -and sure. If she failed in using it for the special purpose -she had planned, she would put it in her mouth and -light the fuse.... There would be no more trouble after -that. And as for the flies—one did not feel them, of -course, when one was dead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All the same, she did not mean to die if she could -avoid it, and, as the first step towards helping herself, -she knocked some nuts off a young palm, and took her -breakfast off the refreshing water and juicy meat. Then -she cut a length of bush rope, looped it round the tallest -palm in sight, and set her feet inside the loop, so that -she could work herself up to the top of the tree, -monkey-on-stick fashion, leaning against the rope. When she -got into the crown of the palm she knelt among the -leaves, holding on tightly, and looked right and left over -the island.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a pure atoll, an irregular circle of feather palms -lying on the sea like a great green garland set afloat. -The inner lagoon was several square miles in extent, but -the land was not more than a few hundred yards wide -at any point, and there was no soil to speak of. The -palms, the scanty, pale green scrub, the mop-headed -pandanus trees, the trailing creepers, all sprang out of -pure white coral gravel and sand. The scene was lovely -as only a coral atoll can be—the jewel-green water of the -inner lagoon, shaded with vivid reflections of lilac and -pale turquoise, the stately circled palms, the wide, white -beach enclasping all the island like a frame of purest -pearl, the burning blue of the surrounding sea, all -combined to form a picture bright as fairyland and sparkling -as an enamelled gem set upon a velvet shield.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Vaiti, while she saw and admired the loveliness -of the scene, also recognised its barrenness as only an -islander could. No fruit, no roots, little fresh -water—nothing, in fact, but cocoanut and pandanus kernels, -eked out by a little fish.... The lepers must often go -hungry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The hot day turned suddenly chill as Vaiti recalled -those blind, snatching, handless arms. They came of a -cannibal race, these Vaka folk. What if she had not -waked? What if, wearied as she well might be, she -slept too long and too soundly in the night that was to -come?</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-turning-of-the-tables"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE TURNING OF THE TABLES</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>She looked narrowly about the island, hoping to discover -the place where the lepers lived. A cluster of small, -miserable huts, on the far side of the lagoon, attracted -her attention. It seemed not more than half a mile -from the spot where she had spent the night. The best -fishing grounds she judged, by the look of the shore, to -be near the village. She was therefore, no doubt, several -miles from their usual haunts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So far, so good. Where was the schooner? It lay -to her left about a mile out at sea, close to a small, -uninhabited, sandy islet. Vaiti supposed that the men were -cutting wood and looking for water. She saw one or -two black dots on the shore, recognisable by their blue -dungaree clothing, and strained her eyes eagerly to see -if the dinghy had been pulled up on the sand, for in -this lay her only chance. If they brought the boat up -on the beach, to repair her where wood could be had -without going to the atoll itself (Vaiti would have wagered -that the </span><em class="italics">Ikurangi</em><span> did not carry a splinter outside of the -galley fuel), then the schooner would probably stop -overnight. In that case she could carry out her plans. -Otherwise ... there was always the dynamite.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The dinghy was ashore, drawn well up on the beach.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She drew a breath of relief, and slid down the tree -again. Now she could wait till night with an easy -mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All day she hid in the tangle of young palm and low-growing -scrub that clustered about the foot of the loftier -trees. Once she saw a couple of the lepers pass by in -the distance, evidently looking for something. These -had eyes, and she crept closer into the shelter of the -scrub till they were gone. Then she came cautiously -out, and plucked long sheets of the fine pale-brown -natural matting that protects the young shoot of the -cocoanut, to cover up her white dress, for the scrub was -dangerously thin, in that staring overhead sun. She did -not venture down to the sea to fish, but fed upon -cocoanuts during the day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Night came at last—night and coolness, with big stars -shining in the lagoon, and a gentle breeze stirring among -the palms. About midnight, as near as she could -guess, Vaiti came out of her shelter and prepared for -action.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She took off her clothes, and fastened about her waist -a petticoat of the dark-coloured cocoanut matting which -she had stitched together during the day. So habited, -with her olive skin and black hair, she knew that she -was invisible in the darkness of the night. She fastened -the dynamite, and a box of matches, into the coil of -hair on the top of her head, stuck her knife into the -waist of her petticoat, and walked down the beach into -the warm, dark sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She knew very well that the outer side of an atoll -commonly swarms with sharks, but the risk did not -trouble her. There was something a good deal worse to -face on the island than any number of sharks. Heading -for the distant light of the schooner, she swam through -the starry water with the low, dog-like island paddle that -can cover such marvellous distances—keeping her head -well out, and quietly taking her time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a long swim, but it ended at last, and the -schooner rose up before her in the water, black and silent, -and shifting ever so little upon the swell of the incoming -tide. The stars made little trickles of light upon her -wet, dark hull. Two boats lay alongside—the dinghy, -freshly mended and watertight, and the whaleboat, -loaded with wood and cocoanuts. After the slovenly -fashion of the </span><em class="italics">Ikurangi</em><span>, they had left the boats until the -morning to hoist inboard, seeing that it was dead calm -in the lee of the islet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was more than Vaiti had hoped for, and it made -her task easy. She cut the dinghy's painter, got into -the boat, and muffled the oars with a strip or two torn -from her petticoat. Then she put the dynamite into -the whaleboat, cut and attached a good long fuse, set -a match to it, and saw that the tiny red spark was steadily -eating its way along, before she pulled off from the ship. -She towed the whaleboat after her a little way, and then -let it go thirty or forty yards from the ship. It was not -her desire to wreck the schooner at Vaka Island, and -possibly let loose her enemies upon the atoll; rather -she wished the ship well out of the way before any -disaster should overtake her. The charts would most -probably ensure that matter. The destruction of the -boat was only intended to secure her own possession of -the dinghy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had scarcely reached the shore before a loud -explosion boomed out across the water, and immediately -after lights began to stir on board the schooner. Vaiti -worked with coolness and speed, knowing that it was -not likely, though possible, that any one would swim -ashore. From her eyrie in the coco-palm she had noted -a deep, narrow creek running up from the lagoon—a -mere crack in the coral, but wide enough to admit a small -boat, taken in with care. There was just enough light -from the stars to enable her to find the place, and -run the boat up on the sand at the end, into the heart -of a tangle of leaves and creepers that entirely concealed -it. For safety's sake, she cut a few more armfuls of -trailing vines from the shore, and buried the boat two -or three feet deep, so that neither from the sea nor the -land could it possibly be seen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As she worked, she could hear shouts and cries, made -faint by distance, coming across the water from the -schooner. She could imagine the scene that would take -place on board when they found themselves boatless. -Some of the native crew—not Donahue or the mate; -they would never face the sharks—would probably -swim ashore to-morrow to investigate. Well, let them!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having finished the concealing of the dinghy, she got -into it herself, put on her clothes again, drew the tangled -creepers well over her, and went calmly to sleep, secure -that no one could find her unless she chose to be -found.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All the same, she was very cautious about getting up -the next morning, and looked carefully between the -leaves before she ventured out of her hiding-place. She -covered up her light dress with the cocoanut canvas, and -then climbed a palm to look about.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>People were moving hurriedly about the decks of the -schooner; something seemed to be going on. As she -watched, she saw two natives, clad only in loin-cloths, -stand up on the bulwarks, ready to dive. In another -moment they had flashed down into the sea, small as -ants to sight at that distance, but perfectly clear to -Vaiti's sea-trained eyes. Then the dark specks began -to make their way across the water. The sun was newly -risen, the sea was still a mirror of molten gold, and the -tiny black heads stood out sharply on its surface. Vaiti -set her teeth as she watched them creeping on. They -were island men, of her mother's own race, and they had -done her no harm. And ... the longer a vessel lies -at anchor in equatorial latitudes, the more certain it is -that sharks will gather round her—even if there has been -no explosion in the water alongside to kill the fish and -collect the tigers of the sea from far and near.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti looked away, and began desperately to count -the nuts clustered among the palm-fronds at her -feet.... How many were there? Ten—fifteen—twenty——</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A long, despairing shriek tore across the water. She -put her fingers in her ears and buried her face in the -leaves. Yet, all the same, she heard a second cry, -short and sudden, and quickly ended. There was -nothing more. She lifted her face again, her teeth set -tight into her lower lip. The two black heads were -gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No one will come ashore to-day," she said, with a -shiver. Something seemed to stab her, as she thought -of that doctored chart in the schooner's deck cabin. -The reefs on the course to South America were hundreds -of miles from shore—the ship had no boats—and the -native crew must suffer with the villainous captain and -mate, if the disaster that she had plotted so carefully -should come about.... There would be sharks there, -too, when the ship broke up....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The crystal-gold of the sea turned dim before Vaiti's -eyes. It was only a mist of tears that lay between, but -to the girl's excited imagination it seemed like the -spreading and darkening stain of blood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Careless of whether she was seen or not, she slid down -the tree and rushed into the scrub, where she sat down -upon the sand and cried like a mere nervous schoolgirl. -The sun was past the zenith when she lifted her head -again; the schooner had put out to sea, and lay, a far-off -snowy speck, upon the blue horizon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti stood up, flung back her hair, and cast the -trouble from her. She could not afford to grieve over -the inevitable now; there was too much to do. The -boat had to be prepared and provisioned, and that was -not the work of a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She husked and opened a number of large cocoanuts, -and removed the insides. She then cut a quantity of -young palm-leaves, and plaited them into baskets, which -she filled with the cocoanut meat. Afterwards she cut -down dozens of young green nuts for drinking, husked -them to save space, and slung them together in bunches -with strips of their own fibre. This done, she hid the -provisions in the boat, and set about her own supper, -as it was almost dark.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nourishing food she felt she must have, if she was to -get through with her enterprise, but she dared not -attract attention to herself by going out torch-fishing on -the reef. However, there were certain holes in the -ground about the roots of the palms that to her -experienced eye promised something better than fish.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She dug a fire-hole in the gravel at the end of the gully -where she had hidden the boat, lined it with stones, and -made a fire, looking well to it that no gleam should be -visible from above. When the stones were beginning to -heat, she took a piece of palms-leaf in her hand, hid herself -in the bush, and waited, still as a rock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By-and-by there was a faint scuffling among the roots -of the trees, and a shadowy thing began climbing up -the trunk of a palm. Vaiti waited till it had disappeared -in the crown of the tree, and then climbed after it to a -point about ten feet from the top, where she tied -her strip of leaf round the trunk and came down -again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thump! thump! Two cocoanuts fell to the earth. -The crab (for it was a cocoanut crab of the biggest and -fiercest kind) was getting his supper. Now he would -come down the tree, rip open the nuts with his formidable -claws, and enjoy the contents.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Slowly he began to back down the palm, his sensitive -tail ready to tell him when he had touched earth and -might safely let go. And now it was that Vaiti's trap -(a well-known native trick) proved his undoing. The -belt of dry leaflets round the tree tickled his tail, he -promptly let go, and fell with a crash seventy feet through -air on to the pile of coral lumps that Vaiti had heaped -up at the foot of the tree.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl picked him up, badly injured and unable to -use his claws (which were big enough to crack her ankle), -and put an end to him with a clever stroke of her knife. -He proved to be two feet long in the body alone, and of -a fine blue and red colour, as seen in the dim light of the -fire. She put him on the heated stones, wrapped in -leaves, buried him until cooked, and then enjoyed a hot -supper that an epicure might have envied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Strengthened by the good food, she worked on late -into the night, catching more crabs, whose meat she -hoped she could dry in the sun, making a rough sail out -of the bed-sheet she had carried away from the schooner, -twisting sinnet plait out of cocoanut husk for ropes, -cutting and trimming a small pandanus for the mast. -She had all her plans laid, and knew what she meant to -do. Her present position was about five hundred miles -from the Marquesas, and the south-east trades would be -in her favour. With lines for fishing, a beaker full of -fresh water on board (she had found that in the dinghy -when she took it away), cocoanuts to help out with, and -plenty of crab to dry, she hoped that she might manage -to reach the islands before her strength or her food gave -out. Greater voyages had been done many a time in -mere canoes, and the dinghy was a large boat of its kind, -strong, well built, and new. If she failed—well, any -death, any horror that the wide seas could hold was better -than Vaka Island.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All being ready, she lay down and slept till dawn—a -somewhat restless sleep, for it was full of wandering -dreams, and all the dreams took one shape: Donahue's -schooner, snared by the lying chart, rushing helpless -to her end, with the green-eyed tigers of the sea hovering -ever about the reefs, and waiting ... waiting....</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"I don't think the patient can see any one," said the -nurse doubtfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The big, yellow-haired sailor took off his hat and -stepped up on to the verandah. It was a very beautiful -verandah. You could see most of Suva Bay from it, -and half the tumbled purple peaks of Fiji's wonderful -mountains lying across the harbour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you could stretch a point, ma'am," said the -sailor, "it might be as well for him. I've got good -news."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"About his daughter?" asked the nurse. She, like -every one else in Suva, was deeply interested in this -especial patient's story. He had come to Suva in his -own schooner, the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>, several weeks before, furious -with rage and despair at the loss of his daughter, and -eager to demand assistance from the High Commissioner -of the Western Pacific, although it seemed by no means -clear in what manner Her Majesty's representative could -aid him. Before the matter had even been discussed, -however, he had fallen seriously ill of sunstroke and -excitement combined, and had been sent to hospital, -with rather a bad chance of recovery. He was just -turning the corner now, and the nurse—who could not -but admire his rather weather-beaten good looks and -romantic history—regarded him as her most interesting -patient.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, it's about his daughter," answered the sailor. -"I'm the mate of the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>, ma'am; Harris is my name. -Perhaps you'd kindly read this."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He held out a long slip of printed paper, containing -a </span><em class="italics">résumé</em><span> of the cables for the day—Suva's substitute -for a daily paper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The nurse took it, and read:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The missing daughter of Edward Saxon, owner and -master of the trading schooner </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>, has at last -reappeared. Her fate has excited much interest and -conjecture all over the Pacific. She arrived in Sydney -yesterday on board the cable-ship </span><em class="italics">Clotho</em><span>, by which -she was picked up on the 2nd instant, in an open boat, -alone, and two hundred miles from any land. She had -experienced bad weather, and was much exhausted -for want of food, but declared herself capable, if it had -been necessary, of reaching the nearest island group -unaided. She had been carried away, as was surmised, -by the captain of the island schooner </span><em class="italics">Ikurangi</em><span>, who -marooned her on a remote leper island, Vaka, and then -sailed for South America. Revenge for the loss of a -pearl-shell bed of disputed ownership is said to have been -the motive of this unparalleled outrage."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He shall have it at once," said the nurse cordially. -"It'll do him more good than our medicines."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The story was a popular one in the hospital for months -after, and it had not been quite forgotten when, towards -the close of the hot season, a Sydney paper furnished -the last chapter of the tale. Saxon's late nurse read it -aloud to the others at afternoon tea, and they all agreed -(not knowing how Vaiti's fingers had cogged the dice of -chance) that it was a wonderful Providence and a real -judgment. The item read:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>"THE LAST OF AN OCEAN ROMANCE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"News comes via Tahiti from Nukahiva, Marquesas -Islands, of the arrival of a shipwrecked crew on a raft, -six weeks ago. They were the survivors of a disaster -that destroyed the notorious schooner </span><em class="italics">Ikurangi</em><span> whose -master, it will be remembered, kidnapped and marooned -the daughter of a British captain some months ago. The -schooner, after leaving the island, sailed for Callao, but -was wrecked on an uncharted reef three days east of -Vaka, and went to pieces. The crew escaped on a raft, -and underwent great suffering in their efforts to reach -land. The captain and mate were drowned."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"And serve them right, too!" said the audience.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-white-man-of-nalolo"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE WHITE MAN OF NALOLO</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"By Jove! it's a white man," said Saxon, checking -like a pointer on the threshold of the low dark doorway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly. Very pleased to meet you," observed -the figure on the mats. It was sitting cross-legged, clad -only in a waist-cloth, and the house was a Fijian -chief-house in a mountain village three days' journey from the -nearest white settlement—but the thing squatted on -the mats was undoubtedly white, and—English? Well, -no; Saxon thought no. The phrase was American in -flavour. He stepped across the threshold, and came a -little way in, relieved in mind. When you have been -dead and buried among the islands for a quarter of a -century it is much pleasanter not to run the risk of -meeting other ghosts (with university accents, tea-coloured -families, and a preference for modest retirement on -steamer days) who may possibly have been alive together -with you before...</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before.... The word means much in that vast -Pacific world, sepulchre of so many lost hopes and -forgotten lives. We do not, in the Islands, cultivate -curiosity as a virtue, since it would be likely to bring -rather more than virtue's own reward after it. We do -not ask cross questions, because the crooked answers -might involve questions of another sort. And when -overfed, sanguineous passengers from smart liners -happen along and tell us, as a new and excellent joke, -that the proper formula for receiving an introduction -in the Islands is: "Glad to meet you, Mr. So-and-so; -what were you called </span><em class="italics">before</em><span>?" we smile an acid smile, -and pretend we are amused....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Saxon was very tired, having walked thirty miles -that day, and very hungry, being out of luck, and more -or less on the tramp. But I think, tired as he was, he -would have found another village to rest in if the derelict -white on the mats had spoken with the shibboleth of his -own class and country.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As things were, the look of the house pleased him, -and he came in and folded himself up on the mats. The -other man noted that he selected a "tabu kaisi" mat -(a kind strictly forbidden to all but chiefs or whites), -and that he looked hopefully towards the kava bowl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not the first time you've stopped under a pandanus -roof, I guess?" he remarked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Saxon. "Whose house is this?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mine," said the stranger. "Make yourself at home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a handsome chief-house of the best Fijian -type, forty feet from mats to ridge-pole, the walls -covered with beautifully inlaid and interwoven reeds, -the roof bound together with exquisite sinnet work in -artistic patterns, of red, black, and yellow, and towering -up into a dark, cool cavern of pleasant gloom. The -floor was overlaid with fine parquetry of split bamboo -at the "kasii" or common-folk end, and piled deep -with fine mats in the "chief" part. A Fijian bed, ten -feet wide and three feet high, ran like a dais right across -the end of the house. It was covered by mats prettily -fringed with coloured parrot feathers. There were three -great doors, east, west, and south, each framing in its -dark-set opening a different picture of surpassing -loveliness. Nalolo town (its name is on the map of Fiji, but -it reads otherwise) stands very high on the sheer crest -of a pointed green hill that is just like the enchanted -hill in the pictures of a fairy tale. There is a little -round green lawn on the top, and all about it stand the -high, pointed beehive houses of the town, each perched -on its own tiny mound like a toy on a stand. Sloped -cocoanut logs run up to the doors of the houses, and -quaintly coloured crotons cluster about them. In the -deep, soft grass golden eggs from the guava trees lie -tumbled about among fallen stars of orange and lemon -blossom, and everywhere the red hibiscus shakes its -splendid bells in the soft hill-winds. About the foot -of the peak a wide blue river wanders, singing all day -long; and from every door of every house, high perched -above the cloudy valleys and hyacinth hill ranges, one -can see pictures, and pictures, and pictures almost too -lovely to be true. There are not two places in the world -like Nalolo.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The White Man of Nalolo, however, was only interested -in the fact that the river provided excellent crayfish; -and that taro grew very well indeed on the slopes below -the town. He had once been young, but he was not -young now, and did not matter any longer. Therefore -he had become particular about his dinner and indifferent -to scenery. I will not tell you the story of the White -Man of Nalolo, or why he, of all men, rebelled so fiercely -against the common lot of "not mattering any more," -that he came away to the wilds of the Pacific and the -highlands of Fiji, and never went back again, because, -like many true stories, it cannot be believed, and therefore -had better not be told. Besides, this is the story -of Saxon and his daughter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Saxon was down on his luck. He had a charter for -the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>, but she was not able to undertake it at present, -for, trying to pilot her into Suva harbour himself, he had -contrived to run her on a reef, and damaged her so -seriously that she was at present careened on the beach -in front of the local boat-builder's, undergoing repairs. -The builder, knowing something of Saxon's reputation, -had insisted on cash in advance, and the captain, in -consequence, found himself so nearly out of funds that -he was unable to stay in Suva pending the repairs to -his ship. He had therefore started with Vaiti for the -interior of the great island of Viti Levu, intending to -live on the real hospitality of the natives for a few weeks, -and tramp from village to village.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He explained something of this as he sat on the mats -enjoying the grateful coolness of the house. The other -man nodded gravely, watching the door. He offered -a curious contrast to the Englishman's coarse red fairness, -being lean, sundried, and grizzled, with expressionless, -boot-buttoned eyes, and a straggling "goatee" beard -that dated his exile from America back to long-ago days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where's your daughter?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Coming. She stopped to tidy up at the river."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The doorway was darkened at that moment by Vaiti -herself, balancing lightly up the cocoanut log to the -threshold. She wore a white tunic over a scarlet -"pareo," her wavy curls, sparkling with the water of -the stream, fell loose upon her shoulders; her lips were -as red as the freshly-plucked pomegranate blossom behind -her ear. Something like life stirred in the boot-button -eyes of the White Man of Nalolo as he looked at her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Afi!" he called to a Fijian woman who was sleeping -on the mats at the "kaisi" end of the house, "go and -hurry the girls with the supper, and make tea for the -marama (lady). Quick!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he turned to Saxon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stay here as long as you like, both of you," he said. -"Let her sit there sometimes, where I can see her and -fancy.... I'll show you something."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He rose slowly and stiffly, and limped across to a -Chinese camphorwood box that stood in the corner. -In a minute he returned with a faded photograph in a -gaudy frame.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My daughter," he said. "The only child I ever -had. She was Afi's. She died a long time ago. Afi's -a chief woman: she was as handsome as Andi Thakombau -when she was young, and the girl took after her. Your -girl's mother was chief too, I guess. Do you see any -likeness?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti and her father craned over the photograph. -The pretty half-caste girl, was certainly like the -stately, slender creature who gazed at her pictured -face, though the fire and spirit of Vaiti's expression -were wanting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm growing old," went on the White Man. "I've -no children. Stay a bit. I'll be glad to have you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you; delighted, I'm sure," drawled Saxon, -with a pathetic resurrection of his long-forgotten "grand -manner," And so it was settled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti, listening and thinking as usual, with her chin -in her slender fingers, approved of what she heard, and -smiled very pleasantly at her host. It seemed to her -that he could be very useful just now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The four weeks that followed after glided away -agreeably enough in the silent hills. Nothing happened; -no one came or went—the Fijians, men and women, -went out to the yam and taro fields in the morning, and -returned in the afternoon; and after dark there would -be long, monotonous chanting, and interminable sitting -dances, on the mats inside the high-roofed houses. Saxon -stupefied himself with kava most of the time, in the -absence of stronger drink, and almost got himself clubbed -once or twice on account of his too impulsive admiration -for the beauties of the village. His host, however, was -no censor of morals, and troubled very little about him. -On Sundays the Fijians dressed themselves in their -brightest cottons, stuck up their hair in huge halos, and -went five times to church, under the auspices of the -native Wesleyan teacher; while Saxon and his host -smoked, slept, drank kava, and played cards. The -village provided plenty of yam and taro, kumara, -cocoanut, and fish; and there was tea and sugar in -the Chinese box, and now and then the White Man -killed a pig or a fowl. It was very pleasant on the -whole.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a month's time, however, Saxon girded up his loins -to leave this mountain Capua and descend to Suva once -more. The </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> would be ready, and his charter to -convey ornamental Fiji woods to San Francisco would -not wait.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They said good-bye to their host, and walked a mile -or two across the river-flats below the town before either -spoke. Then Vaiti put her hand into her sash, and drew -out something small and shining.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See, father, what the White Man gave me, because -I was like his daughter," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Saxon took the object, and turned it over in his fingers. -It was a small seal, shaped like an eagle standing on a -rock. The eagle was gold, the rock amethyst.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A pretty thing, but not worth more than two or -three pounds," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he turned it over and looked at the device. -There was a curious crest on the face of the seal—a wolf -with a crescent moon in his jaws; underneath, a motto -in a strange foreign character.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Saxon's red complexion paled as he examined the crest. -In other days and scenes, among ice-bound rivers and -grim mediæval fortress-castles, he had seen that crest -light up the crimson panes of old armorial windows—had -read the motto underneath—"What I have, I hold"—of -nights when he and the wildest young nobles of the -Russian court were dining together under the splendid -roof of one of Moscow's greatest banqueting halls. For -a moment he felt the keen cold air of the ice-bound streets -blow sharp on his cheek; heard the jingle of the sleigh-bells, -drawing up before the marble steps where the -yellow lamplight streamed out across the snow. -The fancy faded, swift as a passing lantern picture that -flashes out for a moment and then sweeps away into -darkness. He saw the burning sky and the crackling -palms again, felt the furnace-heated wind, and knew that -it was all over long ago, and that he was ruined, exiled, -and old. Yet there remained a thread of indefinite -recollection, a suggestion of something half-remembered, -that was not all unconnected with the present day. -What was the story belonging to that crest—the story -that the whole world knew?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where did the fellow get the thing?" he asked his -daughter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti told him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The White Man of Nalolo, it seemed, was one of the -numerous South Sea wanderers who believe in the -existence of various undiscovered islands, hidden here -and there in the vast, untravelled wastes of sea that lie -off the track of ships. Thirty years before, there had -been wondering rumours of an island of this kind, touched -at once by a ship that no one could name, found to be -uninhabited, and never revisited; indeed, no one was -sure where it was within a few hundred miles. Years -went by, and the White Man, who had always taken a -special interest in the story, found himself -shipwrecked—the sole survivor of a boatful of castaways—on the -very island itself. But fortune was unkind, for the -morning after his arrival, when he was trying to sail -round the island, a sudden storm blew him out to sea -again, and he had drifted for many days, and all but -perished, in spite of the fish and nuts he had obtained -from the island, before a mission schooner happened to -see him and pick him up. He had examined most of -the island while ashore, and had seen no inhabitants -or traces of cultivation. Nevertheless he had always -been convinced that there was something mysterious -about the place, for two reasons. One was the presence -of common house-flies, which he had never seen far away -from the haunts of human beings. The other was the -discovery of an amethyst seal, lying under a stone on the -shore. It was dirty and discoloured, but he did not think -so small and heavy an object could have been washed -up on the shore from a wreck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Where mystery is in the air, most men's minds turn -naturally to thoughts of hidden treasure, and the White -Man of Nalolo had ever since cherished a hope that there -was treasure on the island. For several years he had -fully intended to go and look—some day—but as he -could only guess at the latitude and longitude, and as -he had little money to spare, he never succeeded either -in hunting the place up himself or in persuading any one -else to do so. Now he was old and half-crippled, and -did not care any more about anything; so he wanted -Vaiti, who reminded him so much of his dead daughter, -to have the seal. It was a pretty thing, and perhaps -it would make her think sometimes of the poor old White -Man of Nalolo.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Saxon listened attentively to the story, and heaved -a sigh of disappointment at the end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's nothing in it, my girl," he said. "No proof -of treasure there, eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No; no treasure," said Vaiti, looking at the ground -as she walked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What then?" asked Saxon curiously. He saw she -had something in reserve.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti suddenly flamed out in eloquent Maori.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What then, my father? Am I one who sees through -men's heads, that I can tell what was in the mind of you -as you looked at the jewel, and turned yellow and green -like a parrot, only to see it? What then? I do not -know. I walk in the dark, and the light is in your hand, -not in mine. As for you, you have made your brain dull -with the brandy and the kava, so that you cannot see -at all. What then? Tell me yourself, for I do not know. -I know only that there is something to be told."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't be rough on your poor old father," said Saxon -pathetically. "I'd have knocked the stuffing out of -any man who said half as much, but I spoil you, by Gad, -I do. I don't know—I can't think, somehow or other. -But there was a story about the Vasilieffs—the johnnies -who had that crest—people I used to stay with when I -went to——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He broke off, smashed a spider-lily bloom with his -stick, and began afresh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Junia Vasilieff—what was it she did? Big princes -they were, and much too close to the throne to be safe -company.... Junia Vasili—I have it! Yes—the end -of the story was in the Sydney papers, time you were a -little kid. I remember. They were to have married -her to the Czarewitch, just to make things safe. Her -claim to the throne was big enough to have started a -revolution any day, if it had been asserted.... Poor -little Junia!—only sixteen when I knew—when the -marriage was talked of—and such golden hair as she -had! She hated the whole thing; courts and ceremony -weren't in her line. But she was a gentle little creature, -and I never thought she'd have had the spirit to do as -she did."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned the seal over in his fingers, as if reading the -past from its glittering surface.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There was a young lieutenant of Hussars, a Pole—you -don't know what that is, but the Russians don't -like them, I can tell you—a noble, but a very small one; -not fit to black Junia's boots, according to their notions. -Well, he bolted with her. It was in the Sydney papers, -time I was in the Solomons; the paper came up to -Guadalcanar.... She must have been twenty then; -just the year the marriage to the Czarewitch was to have -come off.... They bolted—cleared out—never seen -again. All Russia on the boil about it; no one knew -but what they'd hatch up plots against the throne, she -having a better claim than any one else, if it hadn't -been for the law against empresses. The secret police -were after them for years, but they were never traced, -though most people knew Russia'd give a pretty penny -to know where they were——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"O man with the head of a fruit-bat, do you not see?" -interrupted Vaiti at this juncture. "They hid on that -island—they may be there still. It is worth a hundred -treasures!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Pole was a great traveller, and had a sort of a -little yacht," said Saxon thoughtfully. "It might be -true, of course—if there is an island, and if the Nalolo -Johnnie had any idea of where it was, and if nobody -found them out and split years ago. Plenty of 'ifs.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think him all-right good enough," averred Vaiti, -returning to English and prose. "By'n-by we finish -F'lisco, then we go see, me and you."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-lost-island"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE LOST ISLAND</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Some two or three months later, the schooner -might have been seen, like a white-winged butterfly lost -at sea, beating up and down before a solitary, low, -green island lying far east of the lonely Paumotus. -Vaiti, sitting on the top of the deck-house, was examining -the land through a glass. The native crew were all on -deck; also Harris and Gray, the mate and bo'sun. -Captain Saxon was not to be seen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The old man always do get squiffy at the wrong -time, don't he?" commented Harris, rather gleefully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gray spat over the rail for reply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're ratty because you don't know nothing, -ain't you?" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you?" asked the mate curiously. Harris had -not much notion of the dignity of his office, and dearly -loved a gossip at all times.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"More nor you, havin' eyes and ears that's of use to -me occasionally," replied the bo'sun dryly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Harris considered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll give you my grey shirt to tell," he said -persuasively. "There's sure to be something up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Ow much does we ever get out of it when there -is?" asked Gray sourly. "I could do with that shirt -very well, though. There ain't much to tell, except -that the old man he thought there was an island -hereabouts not marked on the chart that nobody knew -about; and Vaiti she allowed that was all —— rot, -because, says she, this part's been surveyed, and though -the Admiralty surveys isn't the for-ever-'n-ever-Amen -dead certainties the little brassbound officers thinks -them, still they don't leave whole islands out on the -loose without a collar and a name round their necks, so -to say. So, says she, let me work out the length of time -they ran before the hurricane, says she, and the d'rection -of the wind, which the old boy remembered right enough, -says she; and then look it up on the chart, and I'll be -blowed, says she, if you don't find something for a guide -like. So by-and-by she looks, and says she, ''Ere's -something; 'ere's a reef marked P.D., and it is P.D.,' -says she, 'for you and I knows there's nothin' there,' -she says. 'But we'll look a bit more to the north'ard,' -she says, 'where it's right off the' track of ships, and -maybe we'll find somethin' and maybe we won't,' she -says. 'But I think,' she says, 'that somewheres not -too far off from that P.D. reef we'll maybe get a sight -of what we're lookin' for,' she says, 'because sometimes -reefs is put down for bigger things by mistake,' she says, -'especially if you 'aven't been to see.' Then she comes -on deck, and I makes myself scarce, for it ain't healthy -on this ship to listen at no cabin skylights, not if she -knows you're there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, whatever the game is, I don't suppose it'll -line our little insides any fatter, bo'sun. We don't -count on this ship anything like as we ought to when -there's shares goin'. I wonder that I stick to her, I do! -Old man as drunk as a lord half the time—me doin' his -work as well as my own—a blessed she-cat running the -blooming show——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ready about!" sang Vaiti from the deck-house, -and the mate and bo'sun sprang across the deck. There -was something about the orders of the "she-cat" that -enforced a smartness on the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> rare on an island -schooner, even when heavy-fisted Saxon was not about.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Half an hour later, Vaiti had rowed herself ashore, -curtly declining Harris's polite offers of assistance, and -had landed on the beach. As she did not know who she -might be going to see, she had provided for all emergencies. -Her revolver was in her pocket, and she wore a flowing -sacque of lace-trimmed white silk that made her feel she -was fit to meet any Russian princess, if such were indeed -on the island. It was a gratifying thought that the said -princess, if she had been a celebrated beauty, must now -be well into the forties, and consequently beneath all -contempt as a rival belle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her father's absence did not trouble her. He had a -nasty trick of starting a drinking bout just when he -was most needed—in fact, it was the one point in -Saxon's character on which you could absolutely rely. -Vaiti, therefore, had grown used to doing without him, -and rather liked to have a perfectly free hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had fully grasped the bearings of the case. There -was possibly a very great chief's daughter from Europe, -with a rather insignificant chief who had stolen her -away, living there in hiding. The people of her country -would pay a great deal to know where she was and -bring her back. Or, if there seemed any lack of safety -about this proceeding (Vaiti had long ago learned that -her father was not fond of putting himself within the -reach of principalities and powers of any kind), the -couple themselves must be made to pay for silence. -It was all very simple.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The fact that the island was supposed to be uninhabited -did not trouble her. She meant to investigate -that matter after her own fashion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She walked all round it first of all. It took her about -an hour. There was a nice, white, sandy beach, with -straggling bush behind it. There were a good many -cocoanuts—all young ones—also a large number of -broken trunks, apparently snapped off by a hurricane.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This set Vaiti thinking. It seemed to her that the -damage was rather too universal and even to be natural. -Yet why should any sane human cut short all his -full-grown cocoanuts?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She crossed the island twice at the ends, noting -everything with a keen and wary eye. Fairly good soil; -nothing growing on it, however, but low scrub and a -few berries. In the centre of the island the scrub -thickened into dense bush, impenetrable without an -axe. No sign of life anywhere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti stamped her foot. Was it possible she had -been mistaken? Was this indeed just what it seemed, -a commonplace, infertile, useless, little mid-ocean islet, -let alone because it was worth nothing, and incorrectly -described as a reef because no one had ever troubled -to examine it? Things began to look like it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And yet ... she thought—she did not quite know -what, but she was very sure that she did not want to -leave the island just yet. She would at least climb a -tall tree and take a general survey before she gave -it up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nothing simpler—but there was no such tree.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All the palms were young, or broken off short; all the -pandanus trees were in the same condition. There was -no rock, no commanding height. She could not get a -view.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti's cheek flushed crimson under its olive brown. -The spark was struck at last!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Somebody had cut short those trees—to prevent -anyone from climbing up and overlooking the island. -The encircling reef would not allow any ship to approach -close enough for a look-out at the mast-head to see over -the island, except in a very general way. There was -something to conceal. What, and where?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Only one answer was possible. The mass of apparently -virgin bush in the centre of the island—several acres in -extent—was the only spot where a cat could have -concealed itself. The scent was growing hot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With sparkling eyes Vaiti began to circle the wood, -watching narrowly for the smallest trace of a pathway. -The branches were interlocked and knitted together as -only tropical bush can be. Many were set with huge -thorns; all were laced and twined with bush ropes and -lianas of every kind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nothing larger than a rat could have won its way -through such a rampart. Vaiti walked swiftly on and -on, striking the bushes now and then with a stick, to -make sure that there were no loose masses of stuff -masking a concealed entrance, and keeping a sharp -eye for traces of footsteps.... It was with a -heart-sinking shock that she found herself once more beside -the low white coral rock that had marked the commencement -of her journey, and realised that she had -been all round, and that there was most certainly no -opening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sun was slipping down the heavens now. She -had been exploring half the day, but she was not beaten -yet. The unexpected difficulties she had met with only -sharpened her determination to enter the thicket at all -costs. Harris, suffering acutely, as usual, from -suppressed curiosity, was nearly driven mad by the sight -of the "she-cat" suddenly reappearing on the ship, -picking up an axe, and departing as silently as she had -come, with a countenance that did not invite questions. -She had taken off her smart silk dress, and was in her -chemise and petticoat, arms and feet bare, and waist -girdled with a sash into which she had stuck her revolver. -She dropped the axe into her boat, rowed silently away, -and disappeared on the other side of the island.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sun was still some distance above the sea when -she let the axe slip from her torn, scratched, and aching -hands, and stood at last, tired but triumphant, in the -heart of the mysterious island's mystery. She had won -her way, with the woodcraft that was in her island -blood, through the dense belt of bush, hacking and -slashing here, stooping and writhing there, until the -light began to show through the tangled stems in front, -and a few swift strokes cleared the way into the open. -Yes! there was a space in the centre, after all—a -clearing over an acre in extent. There was grass here, -and a few overgrown bananas, and a tangle of yam and -pumpkin vines. Passion fruit ran in a tangle of wild -luxuriance over the inner wall of the thicket; -pine-apples rotted on the ground and fig-trees spread their -wide leaves unchecked and unpruned.... In the middle -of all was a house—a one-storied little bungalow, -iron-roofed, with a tank to catch the rain. There was a -long, low store behind it, and something that looked -like a pig-sty, and something that might have been a -fowl-run. But....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But everything was rotten, ruined, overgrown, hardly -to be distinguished in the thick tangle of vegetation -that had overflowed the little retreat like a great green -wave let loose upon a low-lying shore. Vaiti knew what -she was going to see before she had reached the door -of the bungalow—a rotten floor, with green vines -shooting up between the crevices, and bush rats scuffling -and squeaking under the boards—a rusted iron roof, -where pink convolvulus bloom peeped in under the -rafters, and lizards sunned themselves in the airy blue -furniture unglued and decayed fast sinking into one -common mass of ruin—door aslant, and thresholds -sunken. Everywhere silence, emptiness, decay. There -needed no explanation of the vanished pathway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Maori blood owns strange instincts. Again Vaiti -knew what she was going to see before it came—knew, -and walked straight over to a certain corner of the -enclosure, as if she had been there before.... It was -under a scarlet-flowered hibiscus tree that she found -it—a long, low grave, fenced round with a wall of coral -slabs, so that the overflowing bush had surged less -thickly here, and one could see that there was something -lying on the mound, only half hidden by creeping -vines—something long and white and slender.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti dragged away the creepers.... Yes, it was a -skeleton, bare and fleshless, with bony fingers and black, -empty eyes. There was a splintered gap in one temple, -and close to one of the hands lay a mass of rusted steel -that had once been a revolver.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On a flat white stone, standing at the head of the -grave, a long inscription had been carved with infinite -care in three different languages. Two of them Vaiti -did not understand, but the third was English. She -pulled the growing ferns off the stone, and, wiping its -surface, read:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>"Here is buried Junia, of the race of Vasilieff. -<br />Died 20th June, 1889.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>"Here is buried Anton, son of Junia Vasilieff -<br />and her husband, Alexis, Baron Varsovi, -<br />Born 20th June, died 21st June, -<br />1889.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>"Here rests Alexis, Baron Varsovi. Into the -<br />unknown thou didst follow me: into the -<br />Great Unknown I follow thee. -<br />Reunited 21st June, 1889."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Vaiti, descendant of cannibal chiefs and lawless -soldiers, more than half a pirate herself, and hard of -nature as a beautiful flinty coral flower, was yet at -bottom a woman after all. What passed in the breast -of this dark, wild daughter of the southern seas, as she -stood above the strange, sad record of loves and lives -unknown, cannot be told. But in a little while, with -some dim recollection of the long-ago, gentle, pious days -of her convent school, she knelt down beside tie lonely -grave, and, crossing herself, said something as near to -a prayer as she could remember. Then, still kneeling, -she cut and tied two sticks into the form of a cross, -and set them upright in the earth of the mound. The -sun was slanting low and red across the grave as she -turned away.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"What'd she give you?" asked Harris eagerly, as -the bo'sun stepped across the gang-plank on to the -quay. The lights of San Francisco were blazing all -about, the cars roared past, there was a piano-organ -jangling joyously at the corner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fifty dollars for the two of us," said Gray, his acid -face sweetened with unwonted smiles.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Crikey! Honest men is riz in the market at last! -What in h—— can she have got herself?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Might as well arst me what she got it for. Don't -know, and don't care, so long as we've got the makings -of a spree like this out of it. I see her comin' out of -the Rooshian Consulate this mornin' lookin' like as if -some one 'ad been standin' treat to her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know she don't touch anything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm speaking figuryative; she looked that sort of -way. And coming' back to the ship, she says to the -old man, she says: 'Why, dad, better dead than alive!' -she says. And he laughs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't sound 'olesome," observed Harris thoughtfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, don't you get to thinkin', for you ain't built -that way, and you'll do yourself a mischief," said the -boatswain warningly. "And let's be thankful to -'eaven for all its mercies, say I, that we've got such a -nice, warm, dry, convenient night for to go and get -drunk in."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="what-came-of-the-paris-dress"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER X</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">WHAT CAME OF THE PARIS DRESS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The effects of Saxon's illness in Fiji were a long time -in wearing off. It was many weeks after Vaiti had come -back to the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>, flushed with importance and with -the lionising she had received on the cable-ship—many -weeks after the voyage to the unknown island and the -visit to San Francisco—that he took ill again; not very -seriously, but badly enough to prevent his going to sea. -Of course, the time was an awkward one. They were -off Niué, and there was copra waiting to be taken to -Raratonga for the steamer—copra which would certainly -be secured by some other schooner if Saxon did not -take it at the promised date. Neither Harris nor Gray -knew enough to be trusted with the ship, and he did -not much care about letting Vaiti sail her—not because -he doubted his fiery daughter's ability or desire, but -because, rash as he was himself at times, he knew her -to be still worse. He had seen her run the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> in the -trough of the very last swell alongside a barrier reef for -miles, sailing all the time so close to the wind that the -shifting of a single point would have meant destruction. -He had heard her raving about the deck in half a gale -as they swept up to the iron-bound coast of Niué, -abusing Harris in the strongest of beach talk because -he had not another main topsail in the locker to replace -the two that had just carried away one after the other -and battered themselves to ribbons—the principal -ground of her complaint being apparently the fact that -she considered herself labouring under a social -disadvantage of the most mortifying kind because the -schooner was obliged to come up to Niué for the very -first time without all sails set. He had seen her perform -tricks of steering, getting in and out of Avarua in -Raratonga (a perfect death-trap of a port at times, as -all old islanders know), that "fairly gave him the -jim-jams," to use his own phraseology.... No, on -the whole he thought he would rather miss that fright -than lie idle in the trader's house at Avatele, and think -daily and nightly of the cranky though light-heeled -</span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> out upon the high seas in Vaiti's sole command.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This being so, it was natural and inevitable that Vaiti -should set her heart upon going and carry out her -desire. She did not make any trouble about the matter; -neither was she at all unkind to the invalided owner of -the ship. On the contrary, she paid the trader's wife -more than that kindly woman wanted, to take good -care of her father while she should be away, bought him -everything decent to eat that the island contained -(which was saying very little), indulgently presented -him with a demijohn of whisky, and then informed him, -in the coolest manner in the world, that the copra was -all loaded, the stores and water on board, and the -schooner ready to sail next day, under her command.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Saxon swore at large first of all, then stormed at -Vaiti, and finally began a pathetic lament over his own -helpless position and the heartlessness of his only child. -Vaiti, sitting cross-legged on the end of his bed, smoked -a big cigar through it all and looked out of the window. -When he stopped at last, fairly run out, she laughed -and handed him a weed out of her own case and a match.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You take'm that, no speak nonsense. You know -me, what?" she demanded; and Saxon, who was not -in reality nearly as ill as he thought himself, laughed, -and allowed himself to be won over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having gained her point, Vaiti went off again to the -schooner through the wonderful pink dusk that wraps -a South Sea island at sunset, and left the captain to hold -commune with his demijohn and sleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As she walked down to the shore, she heard a sound -of laughing and the rustle of many dresses among the -palms close at hand. Now in Niué it is an important -matter that brings people out of evenings, because, -although the island has been Christianised long ago, -like all the rest of the Eastern Pacific, it still suffers from -a perfect plague of heathen ghosts that no amount of -Sunday church-goings and week-day pious exercises -seem to affect in the least. So the natives are afraid -to go out of their houses after sunset, lest uncanny -things should rise out of the forest to spring upon the -wayfarer's back unseen and choke him. This Vaiti -knew, so she suspected something of interest in the little -crowd, and turned aside to look. If she had not, there -had been no story to tell about Niué and the happenings -there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She saw a curious scene, so nearly hidden by the -growing dark that no one but an island resident could -have taken in its full significance. A group of islanders, -men and women stood round the door of a big white -concrete house with a pandanus roof—the finest native -house in the village. They seemed to be waiting for -something—something both amusing and exciting, to -judge by the explosions of giggles that continually burst -through the dusk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently the door of the house swung open with -considerable violence, and a large mat was thrown out -by an invisible hand. Then the door was slammed, -and the giggles redoubled. Within the house now -sounded something very like a struggle. There were -loud sobs and cries of a shrill, theatrical kind, scuffling. -banging, and a dragging sound.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tck, tck, tck," went the tongues of the outsiders -delightedly. The interesting moment was at hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It came without warning. The door burst open with -still more violence than before, and out upon the mat -was shot by some invisible agency a very solid young -woman in a white loose gown, weeping somewhat -mechanically, but with much effect. She fairly rolled -over with the force of the shock that had ejected her, -and before she could pick herself up the door was closed -once more with a slam that shook the whole house. -Then the waiting group rushed upon her with cries of -joy, and bore her away in their midst, singing as they -went.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A wedding," said Vaiti to herself. "It must be -Mata's; that is their house. And it will be a big -wedding, too. I did not know that it was to be so -soon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She fell into a fit of musing as she wandered -shorewards among the leaning palms.... The palms of -Niué sweep downwards to the gleaming sea like a band -of lovely maidens hurrying with sweet impatience to -meet their lovers on the coral shore. Of a moonlight -night, when all things are possible, and nothing seems -too wonderful in an air that itself is wonder, it needs -but little for those white, slender stems, and tossing, -plumy crowns, poised high above the shadowy beach -they curve to meet, to change themselves into South -Sea dryads of a new and lovely race, and rush down, -at long last, upon the calling sea, where Tangaroa, the -king of ocean, has his dwelling. Under the palms of -Niué, when the blazing white moon has risen so high -in the heavens that a perfect star of jetty shadow is -rayed about the base of every tree—when the wandering -sea winds are held close by the breathless spell of -midnight and nothing wakes on all the lonely shore but the -long, long song of the droning coral reef—under the -wonderful palms of Niué, loveliest and strangest of all -the islands in that dreamy world of "perilous seas and -fairylands forlorn"—nothing is too strange to be true, -no fancy too wild to hold, when the moon is up and the -palms are alone with the sea....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Was Vaiti thinking of visionary palm-maidens and -sea-foam kings as she went down the winding path to -the bay, through a wondrous afterglow of russet-rose -laced through with opal moonrays? Perhaps—or of -kindred fancies. I who knew her cannot say, for no -one ever knew her altogether. It is more likely, -however, that less poetic thoughts were in her mind just -then. The scene she had witnessed in the palm-grove -was the usual ceremony that takes place in Niué the -night before a wedding, when the friends of the -bridegroom come to the house of the bride's parents, and -the latter go through the symbolical form of casting her -out and closing the door, so that the bridegroom's people -may take her over and guard her until the wedding -morning. Vaiti liked a wedding above all things (next -to a funeral), and the hint of great doings on the morrow, -offered by the ceremony she had witnessed, decided her -to stay another day. Why not? The copra was -loaded, and no rivals were in sight. Besides, she had -a motive for staying—the strongest possible motive. -She wanted to wear her Paris dress.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yes, it had been acquired at last. That day in San -Francisco, when she had come out of the Russian -Consulate with more money in her pocket than any one -of her adventures had ever brought before, she had been -able to restrain herself no longer. And thereafter, in -Madame Retaillaud's elegant and exclusive Parisian -emporium, replete with the choicest imported wares -(I quote the lady's own description of her goods), there -took place a scene that is remembered to the present -day by those of Madame Retaillaud's young ladies who -survived the earthquake year.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti, dressed in one of her waistless muslin gowns, -with a broad-leafed island hat on her head, a long-bladed -sheath-knife stuck quite visibly in the breast -of her dress, and her wavy hair falling loose over her -shoulders, stalked into the shop among the smartly-gowned -San Francisco ladies who were turning over -Madame's stock, and demanded to see—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One dress belong Palisi, pretty dam quick."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They are used to all sorts of strange nationalities along -the water-front in San Francisco, but not, as a rule, in -the milliners' and modistes' well-bred establishments. -Vaiti concentrated the whole attention of the place upon -herself at a single stroke. She did not care about that -in the least, but Madame's hesitation stung her, and she -pulled out a thick wad of notes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look 'em alive, my hearties!" she ordered -impatiently in her quarter-deck voice. "Lay aft here -with that goods. I want um Palisi model, all sort."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The customers were nearly in hysterics by this time, -and the assistants were all a-giggle. Madame herself, -however, grasped the situation in a twinkling, and -frowned down the girls. Whoever and whatever this -pirate queen might be, she certainly had money, and -Madame would have welcomed Lucrezia Borgia or the -Witch of Endor, under like circumstances, as pleasantly -as an Anglo-American duchess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps Madame will come into a private room. -Madame would like, no doubt, to look at our most -exclusive goods, and we do not bring them into the -outer shop," she said in her most honeyed voice. And -the door of the lift closed upon the pair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What Vaiti underwent in that fitting-room in the -course of getting into Madame's latest model promenade -gown, built for a typical French figure, will never be -told. Early in the proceedings a message came down -to the showroom for the strongest pair of Paris corsets -in stock, and a little later Madame herself, very red and -overheated, ran down to select a fresh silk lace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, but she has courage, that one!" she declared, -as the lift received her again. "Never, no, -never!—jamais de la vie! ..."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The lift went up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was almost an hour before a wonderful vision sailed -slowly through the show-room and out into the street—slowly, -not alone for pride, but also because it could -scarcely move or draw its breath. The vision, as -described in the receipted bill that went with it, was -made up of the following elements:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One promenade costume (model, Doucet & Cie.) -composed of chiffon velours, couleur poussière de roses, -inlet with motifs of point d'Alençon, hand-embroidered -with lilies of the valley in French paste. Mounted on -chiffon bleu-de-ciel, with full volants edged lace and -chiffon ruching. Made over foundation of glacé silk, -couleur citron d'or.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One set silk underclothing to match.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One Corset Ecraseur, patent laces.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One pair bronze promenade shoes, Louis XV. heels, -extra height. Stockings to match.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One parasol composed peau-de-soie rose fanée and -chiffon bleu-de-ciel."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To which may be added—one young woman, suffering -horrible agony and quite intoxicated with happiness.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was this marvellous possession that Vaiti yearned -to show off at the wedding. She had not had a chance -to wear it since the day when she had walked through -the streets of San Francisco, with an admiring and -amused crowd at her rear, and found it quite impossible -to get on board the schooner, when she reached the water -front, until she took off her voluminous skirt and handed -it up over the side—afterwards climbing the rope-ladder -in a storm of applause and a pink silk petticoat. -Now the occasion for getting full value out of the -wonderful thing had come at last, and she could not—no, -she really could not—miss it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rather late next morning, when the bride and -bridegroom—the former in a gorgeous gown of yellow curtain -muslin, the latter in a thick tweed suit from Auckland -that caused him to stream at every pore—were sitting -on opposite sides of the little white church, enthroned -on chairs all by themselves, and listening decorously to -a long preliminary address from the native pastor—Vaiti -swept in, and at once brought the ceremony to a -momentary pause. The pastor stopped in his address -and gaped, the women exclaimed audibly, the bridegroom -fixed his eyes on the apparition and sighed in a manner -that the bride evidently resented as a personal slight, -for she grew still darker in the face than nature had made -her, and stared penknives and scissors at Vaiti. Wild -titters of delight swept indecorously through the church. -The entry was indeed a success—the native pastor -found it necessary to address his flock directly, and to -tell them that they would undoubtedly all go to hell -if they did not behave better in church, before order -was restored.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is not necessary to relate at length how Mata and -Ivi were made one, how they walked out of the church -nonchalantly by different doors, and were subsequently -so deeply interested in the killing of the pigs for the -marriage feast, and the preparing of the various cooking-pots, -that they did not meet again all afternoon. It -was a commonplace wedding enough, and this history -is not interested in it, other than as it concerned the -affairs of Vaiti. These, indeed, were fairly notable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For with Vaiti pride very literally brought about a -fall that day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had had a terrible time getting into her dress, and -the whole ship's company had shared in the trouble. -First, the native A.B.'s had to fetch her a big looking-glass -from the nearest trader's, and secure it to the -bulkhead of her cabin. Then the cook had to deliver -up all the hot water in the galley—at seven bells, with -dinner just coming on!—and the boatswain must needs -broach the cargo for some special scented soap. Matters -were only beginning, however. When the dress was -disinterred from its many wrappings and finally put on -it became immediately apparent that the bodice could -not possibly be made to meet. Perhaps the coming of -the bread-fruit season had caused the young lady's -waist to expand—perhaps the practised art of Madame -Retaillaud had exceeded anything that a mere amateur -could compass in the way of lacing. At any rate, it -was not till Vaiti had passed her corset laces out through -the port and ordered two of the strongest sailors to tail -on to them—not till Harris, agonising with laughter, -had directed this novel evolution from the poop for at -least five delirious minutes, during which Vaiti several -times thought she was dying, but remained none the -less determined to die rather than give in, that the -deed was accomplished at last, and the "Kapitani" of -</span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> was enabled to look at herself in the glass and -know heavenly certainty that she was the best -dressed woman in the Pacific at that instant, whoever -saw or did not see.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The natural result of all this was that in the very -hour of her triumph she fainted dead away in the -church, for the first time in her life, and had to be -carried out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ceremony was just over by now, and the bride, -still burning with jealousy of the woman who had dared -to eclipse her on her wedding day, was among the first -of those who crowded round like bees going after honey, -to stare at the beautiful creature lying senseless on the -sunburnt grass. The bridegroom had sped away hot-foot -in the direction of the village, whence certain -enticing yells indicated that the pig-slaughter was now -going on; but Mata was not a bit appeased by his -indifference to the visitor. That dress—and oh, how -wonderful it was!—still rankled in her soul.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mata was a teacher's daughter, and she knew something -of white people's lore. A brilliant thought darted into -her mind as she pressed and struggled in the crowd -about the deathly form on the grass....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ai, ai! she is surely dead!" wailed the people. -"Ai! the-great chieftainess will rise no more!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Daughters of a turtle!" said Mata contemptuously. -"I will show you if she is dead. It is nothing at all but -that she is vain, and wanted to make herself a middle -like the 'papalangi' women, who all look like stinging -hornets. Give me a knife, someone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A knife was given, and Mata, with horrid joy, half -lifted Vaiti and slipped the keen point into the back of -the dress.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rip went the silk with a hideous splitting noise, and -the delicate underwear swelled out through the opening -like a bush lily bursting its sheath. Mata felt for -the stay-lace, and cut that too. The tension on the -bodice increased frightfully—the seams gaped and -strained....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She will die, I think, if I do not cut it off," said -Mata hastily, feeling Vaiti reviving under her hand, and -anxious to finish her work. Two more cuts of the knife -did it. The Paris dress was, speaking sartorially, no -more; the owner, lying on the ground, was opening her -eyes to the outrage that had been done; and Mata, -shrieking with malign laughter, was fleeing wildly through -the palms in the direction of the pig-killing, peace in her -heart again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Peace was very far indeed from Vaiti's heart when -she revived and found out what had been done. The -crowd drew away from her in fear when they saw her -flashing eyes and set, furious mouth, though she said -never a word. Confronted by that Medusa-head, they -were almost too terrified to find words; but one or two -stammered out a hasty explanation that freed the -present company from blame by inculpating Mata.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti did not doubt it—she had seen the bride's face -during the ceremony. Still silent, but flashing looks of -sheet-lightning all about her, she drew together her -garments as best she could, and walked off in the direction -of the ship. As she did so, a little ugly man with red -hair slipped out from behind the trees, and looked -narrowly at her retreating figure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the white man from the bush!" cried the -girls. "White man of ours, why did you not come -down for the wedding?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I didn't, my little dears," replied the -newcomer in English, still looking after Vaiti. He stood -well in the shade, and did not make himself unnecessarily -conspicuous.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's a fine girl, that Mata," he added by and by. -"A smart girl. I should like to know Mata."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti put off her going for yet another day. She had -business to attend to.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was very simple business, and it was characterised -by the directness that attended all the proceedings of -Saxon's daughter. She merely went up to the bride's -new home, that was so handsomely stocked with trade -goods and imported furniture, while the wedding party -were making merry in the village after dark, and set -fire to it with a torch in about a dozen places. It was -very dry weather, and there was a strong wind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was scarce a stick of the cottage left when she -marched into the village with a blazing torch in her -hand, and calmly told the assembled revellers what -she had done. Then she left them, seething in a tumult -of excitement that almost drowned the hysteric screams -of Mata, and went to bed and to sleep with a quiet -mind, ready for an early start next morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The men came on board late and very drunk, but -they did come. They were afraid of Vaiti, and so was -Harris, who would very well have liked to extend his -revels in the village for another twelve hours, but did -not dare to do so. He thought, as he stumbled into his -bunk, that the sounds proceeding from the forecastle -were a good deal odder than usual—he could almost -have sworn that there was one person, if not several, -crying in there. But he had good reason for mistrusting -the evidence of his senses just then, so he flung himself -down and went to sleep.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-dead-man-s-revenge"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A DEAD MAN'S REVENGE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When one is well on the right side of five-and-twenty, -with a good ship underfoot, a fair breeze setting steadily -from the right quarter, and a pleasant goal ahead, it is -hard to be unhappy. Vaiti's sense of bereavement at -the loss of her cherished dress faded considerably before -the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> had fairly cleared the land, and was gone -altogether by the next day. She had done what she felt -to be the right thing by Mata; the score was even. -Vaiti did not like loose ends of any kind, and she had -not left any behind her. She smiled as she thought of -it, and paused in her official-looking walk across and -across the poop, to revile a native A.B. for leaving the -end of a halyard trailing on deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You d—— lazy nigger," she said. "What sort -ship you thinking you stop? You thinking one mud -scow" (</span><em class="italics">Mud cow</em><span> was her pronunciation), "one pig-boat, -one canoe belong dam man-eating Solomon boy? I -teaching you some other thing pretty quick. Suppose -you no flemish-coil that halyard, keep him coil all-a-time, -I let 'em daylight inside that black hide belong you, -knock 'em two ugly eye into one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She plucked a belaying-pin out of the rail and sent it -flying at the sailor's ear. Vaiti was a straight thrower, -but the crew seldom failed to dodge; they had every -opportunity of becoming proficient. On this occasion, -however, the sailor made not the least attempt to escape, -and the pin struck him fair and square at the angle of -the jaw, and knocked him over. He was hurt, but not -stunned, and sat up immediately on the deck, gazing at -the tall white figure on the poop with lack-lustre eyes -that scarcely seemed to comprehend what they saw.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bring 'em that pin," commanded Vaiti, still in what -stood for English with her. She never addressed the -crew in the tongue that was native to both.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man crept slowly aft, and handed it to her. She -motioned to him to replace it neatly in the rail, and -then pointed to the trailing halyard. It did not escape -her, as the sailor made his way down to the main deck, -that there were tears in his large black eyes, and that -his pareo was tied with a carelessness unusual among -Polynesians, and significant of trouble and depression -when seen. But she put the one down to the swelled -and reddening bruise that marked all one side of his face -and the other to the orgies of the previous night. If -the men chose to make brutes of themselves on bush-beer, -they need not expect that she was going to slacken -their work for them on that account. No, not if she -broke the head of every man in the ship. She was -not Saxon's daughter for nothing, as they very well knew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was small wonder that Vaiti was not popular with crews.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She went on pacing the deck, in the joyous crystal-clear -sunlight of the sea. The trade wind ran through -the sky like a warm, blue river, the rigging sang, the sails -drew steadily. It was a good day, a happy day, a -pleasant day to be alive. The girl felt pleased with -the world. She took the wheel from the sailor who -held it, for the sheer pleasure of feeling the flying vessel -answer to the touch of her own light hand. All the -force and fury of those roaring sails overhead seemed to -concentrate itself here in her fingers, as the power of a -great dynamo passes through a single wire. It was -almost as if she drove the ship herself. The </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> -went as steady as an albatross; once or twice the -spokes fairly shook in her hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The wheel is laughing to-day," she said in Maori, -using the island sailor's expression.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dinner-time came round soon, and she descended -to eat with Harris alone. Saxon himself did not -particularly care whether he dined with his bo'sun or not, -if it happened to be convenient to leave Harris on -deck; but Vaiti would have run the ship as strictly -as a man-of-war at all times, if she could have had her -way. Indeed, she would have liked to dine in solitary -state, like the captain of a cruiser, had she not had too -much good sense to fly in the face of merchant service -custom by excluding the mate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As things were, she graciously condescended to order -Harris down to the cabin with her, and they discussed -together the inevitable curried tin of Pacific cookery. -It was wonderfully light and bright in the little cabin, -which was large for the size of the ship, and had plenty -of berth and locker space, besides its neatly fitted trade -shelves. The bulkheads were painted white picked out -with blue (they were satinwood and bird's-eye maple -underneath the paint, a thing which had astonished -and perplexed more than one ship's carpenter in the -past quarter of a century), and there was a pretty -bird's-nest fern in a basket hanging from the skylight, and the -seats were covered with the neatest thing in blue and -white trade prints that Auckland could produce. Vaiti's -taste was evident everywhere, and Vaiti herself, hair -freshly combed and held back with a bright ribbon, laces -and frills dainty and immaculate as ever, looked, as she -demurely poured out tea (you will seldom find the teapot -absent from the table of a colonial ship), quite the last -sort of person by whom a native A.B. might expect -to be knocked into the scuppers. Yet, truth to tell, -the unlicked Harris, wolfing his food at the opposite -side of the table, was very much better liked by the crew, -even though he was heavy-handed enough at times; -and he certainly understood more about the five A.B.'s -and one ordinary seaman who inhabited the forecastle -than did Vaiti, who was half one of themselves, and -therefore thought them beneath consideration as a rule.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of this fact he proceeded to give an illustration when -the curry and the tea and the fried bananas were almost -done, and nobody's dinner could be spoilt by unpleasant -news.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Think you're in for a good time, don't you, Cap?" -he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti, the economical of words, merely nodded. But -her face spoke for her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Harris was never quite sure whether he liked Vaiti -in an uncomfortable, indefinite way, or heartily hated -her. To-day the balance perhaps inclined in the latter -direction. He watched her face with some interest -as he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's where you spoils yourself, Cap. You ain't. -And if you want my advice, which you never do, I'd -tell you that the sooner you 'bouts ship and back to -Niué the better."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti bit slowly through the piece of bread she was -eating and deliberately chewed it, eyeing the mate all -the time, before she condescended to answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mph!" was all she said at last. She had never -studied diplomacy, but she knew how much more you -learn in general by letting the other person lead the -conversation than by talking yourself. And it occurred -to her that Harris wanted to make himself important -by hinting and patronising over some ship business -which might, or might not, be in his department. Well, -let him. She would not give him a lead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Harris, on his part, got angry at once, and blurted -out what he had meant to keep a good deal longer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, very well," he said. "You can do just as -you likes, of course, but where you'll find yourself -when it comes to a question of mutiny, that's another -two-and-six. Musling curtains on the ports, and white -table-cloths, and ropes all flemish-coiled on deck is -going to help you a lot then, ain't they? And if ever -I've seen signs of trouble in a crew, I seen them to-day, -and you knows it—ma'am."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The last word came with a jerk, screwed out, as it -were, by an ominous flash of Vaiti's eye.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti herself was thinking very quickly indeed, but -you would not have imagined it if you had seen her -slowly scooping out the inside of a mummy-apple, and -as slowly eating it. She was obliged to acknowledge -to herself, now Harris had spoken, that there had been -something unusual about the demeanour of more than -one of the men since their departure yesterday. But -mutiny? Nonsense! Indigestion from too much pork, -more likely. She did not believe for an instant that any -crew once handled by her father and herself would have -an ounce of mutiny left in the lot, if you ran them -through a stamp-mill and assayed the result three times -over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So she merely remarked, between spoonfuls:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You talk plenty nonsense. You keep those men -work, they no squeak. Suppose you finish eat, you go -tell Gray he come down ki-ki."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right!" said Harris meaningly, trying to make -an effective and tragic exit. He was really not at all -easy in his mind, and Vaiti's attitude did nothing to -relieve his apprehension of what might be about to -follow. The men had never dragged on the rein as -they had done these two days past, and he felt it in his -bones that there was more than met the eye in the -matter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti, for her part, was so much incensed by the tone -of his remonstrance that she would not even listen to -the conviction which began to force itself upon her own -mind, next day, that there was really something astray. -Luck in general seemed to have deserted them. With -a fair wind the schooner should have made the run to -Raratonga in three days, but on the afternoon of the -second day a dead calm had fallen, and they lay helpless -in the trough of the sea by four o'clock, three hundred -miles from anywhere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All-a-time I saying no good trust those trade winds, -when that (adjective) Cook Islands be near," sighed -Vaiti, scanning the horizon vainly right and left. Like -a true sailor, she was generally cross in a calm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish we was out of this, ma'am, I do," remarked -Gray, who was busy spinning sinnet at her feet on the -deck. For some odd reason, the sour old bo'sun generally -found her more approachable than the others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?" asked Vaiti, almost amiably.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because, ma'am, of that, for one thing. And hothers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He pointed forward, and Vaiti saw what she had -not noticed before, the ship's carpenter, a powerful -young Mangaian, lying flat on the foc'sle head and -obviously weeping.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They've been at that game, one and another, off -and on, ma'am, all to-day," he said. "And you know -yourself 'ow we've been put to it to get the work out of -them. Darned if I knows what monkey tricks they's -up to, but I allow we're liable to understand all about -it before very long, for that sea-lawyer of a fellow, -Shalli, he's bin speechifyin' down in the foc'sle 'alf -of this watch, like a bloomin' 'Yde Park sosherlist, -he has."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti glanced at her watch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Make him eight bell," she ordered, scanning the -foc'sle hatch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, ay, ma'am," said Gray readily, passing on the order.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The watch below were prompt enough about turning -out, but Shalli the forlorn could not, it seemed, find -energy enough to get up and turn in. Instead, he beat -his curly head upon the planks and began to sob. Vaiti -took no notice of him whatever, but just strolled -nonchalantly for a minute into her cabin, and reappeared -with a slight projection in the bosom of her muslin -dress that had not been there before. Harris and Gray -looked at each other significantly, and the former cast -a swift glance about the vacant horizon. No, not a -shred of sail, not a trail of smoke. Only the glancing -flying-fish, and the oily, glittering swell, and the hard, -pale, empty sky.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The men, who had all been standing in a bunch by -the hatch, now signalled to Shalli, who put off the rest -of his weeping to a more convenient season, and got -upon his feet. Then the six began advancing slowly -and uncertainly to the break of the poop. They were a -good-looking crew in their way, all Eastern Pacific men, -with bright eyes and well-featured brown faces, and -their dress—the brilliant red or yellow "pareo" of -the islands, gaily figured with enormous white flowers, -and the bright cotton shirt or coloured jersey—lent a -distinctly operatic air to the little scene. Vaiti and -her officers, however (like Molière's </span><em class="italics">bourgeois</em><span> who had -talked prose all his life without knowing it), had lived -in the midst of picturesque and extraordinary things -most of their lives, and therefore took no interest, as -a rule, in anything save the sternest practicalities.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And it was stern enough in all conscience, this fact -with which they were confronted. The men were -mutinous, beyond doubt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti's mind rapidly ran over all possible causes -for the trouble, even while Shalli was stepping forward -and opening his mouth to speak. It could not be rough -treatment, because, as a matter of fact, the men were -no worse handled on the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> than on most other -island schooners, and an occasional knock-down blow -is not the sort of thing that a Pacific native will -seriously resent. It could not be any objection to go -to Raratonga—the crew were mostly Cook Islanders -themselves, and glad of a chance of seeing their homes. -Nor could it be dislike to her command, for a chief -rank counts tremendously among Polynesians; and -islanders who were ruled at home by a queen of her -family would be most unlikely to strike against the -authority of one of the Makea race, unless for some -very grave cause. It was, of course, possible that they -had planned to seize the schooner and run off with it.... -She put her hand up to her bosom, and played -with the laces that lay over that hard substance under -the dress....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Shalli was speaking now, in answer to her sharp -query as to what they wanted there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had a good deal to say, and he said it with flashing -eyes and much eloquence, using his slender, pointed, -brown fingers a good deal to emphasise his remarks, -and turning dramatically from his mates to Vaiti, -and back to his mates again. Harris listened anxiously, -catching only a stray word here and there, for his -knowledge of Maori was confined to the few phrases -used in running the ship. Shalli was certainly saying -that somebody was going to die—that somebody had -got to die, and immediately—to judge by the emphasis -with which he spoke.... The mate was, as Vaiti had -once told him, rather chicken-hearted underneath his -great bulk and strength. He felt himself turning -chilly, for all the burning sky. What the devil did that -fiend of a Vaiti mean by standing there listening as -calmly as if they were paying her compliments on her -eyes? Perhaps there was no particular trouble after -all; but her demeanour was no guarantee, for she would -have looked like that if they had all been on the verge -of drowning, or burning, or hanging together, any day -of the week.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gray, on the other hand, did not trouble to try and -make out anything, but cut a large quid and chewed -it at leisure, idly looking on. He did not know if the -men meant mutiny or not, and he did not particularly -care. They were three whites against six niggers, -and there were firearms on their side. And he had seen -mutinies in his time beside which any little amusement -that could be got up by half a dozen amiable Cook -Islanders would seem a mere Sunday-school tea-party. -Let them mutiny if they liked. It would not mean -the interruption of the work for half a watch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Shalli went on talking as if he never would stop, -and the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> rolled ceaselessly on the idle swell, and -the useless sails slapped rhythmically upon the mast. -And Vaiti, standing on the poop above the group -of men on the main-deck, listened with an unmoved -countenance until quite the end of Shalli's long -speech.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he had finished he turned his face away, and -instantly began to weep. And the five other men, -exactly as if a tap had been turned on, also began to -weep at the same moment, howling loudly and lifting -their hands to heaven.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If this isn't a bloomin' mutiny, it's a bloomin' -lunatic asylum," declared Harris quite inaudibly in -the midst of the hideous noise from the main-deck. -It is not a common thing, even in that world where all -things are possible, the wide, strange Pacific Ocean, -to see a whole ship's company shedding tears in concert -on a calm and peaceful afternoon, with nothing more -alarming in sight than a handsome young woman in -an expensively pretty frock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ow-ow-ow!" went Shalli, getting quite beyond -his own control.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ey-ah, eyah!" screamed a plump lad from Aitutaki, -fluttering his hands like frantic pigeons.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For God's sake, Vaiti, tell us what's up," called -Harris, sending his bull-like tones through the confusion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then Vaiti spoke, shrieking at the top of her voice -in order to be heard. Her face, its hard calm broken -up at last, was black with rage, and she had pulled out -her revolver, and was holding it in her hand, though, -strange to say, none of the men took the least notice of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That ——, —— witch-man belong Niué, he curse -them, they say they die!" she screamed. "By'n-by -I cut him liver out!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What witch-man?" bellowed Harris. "Don't -understand. That white bloke—him with the red hair -and the scar on his nose—who dresses native, and lives -native up in the bush? Saw him lookin' at you like as -if he'd like to knife you, from behind Mata's house."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, pig-head! no white man got 'mana' for make -die that way," shrieked Vaiti, shaking her revolver -without effect at the men. "Niué witch-man. What -man you mean? I not see——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she did see at that moment, and to Harris's -utter dismay she dropped the revolver on the deck and -flung her skirt over her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My Gord! she's mad now," cried Harris. The -crew paid not the least attention, but continued to -weep with lungs of brass. The mate's head went round. -He felt as if he was going out of his senses, too. Gray, -who seemed to be the only normal person left on board, -went up to Vaiti and plucked her dress off her face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, ma'am, keep 'er 'ead to wind," he remonstrated. -"What's got 'old of the Capting? Blest if -we ever saw you afraid before."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti turned on him like a tigress.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You think me frighten, you parrot-face, bal'-head, -humpback pig-monkey! Think some more those thing, -and I shoot some hole in you lie-making tongue, learn -you talk to me. I tell you——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The hubbub on deck was calming down a little now, -and subsiding into lost and homeless wails. It was -possible to make oneself heard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I tell you, that thing Alliti see 'long Niué, he one -dead man. Captain schooner </span><em class="italics">Ikurangi</em><span>—same I making -tart [chart] all wrong, so he go drown, he and him mate. -You think it good thing one dead man he go walk along -Niué, looking me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A cat may look at a king," said Harris, who had -realised that no fighting was afoot, and therefore was -very brave just now. "Besides, that red-head man -wasn't no ghost—he borrowed a pouchful of tobacco -off of me, and never paid it back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What sort that man?" demanded Vaiti. "He -small, all same Gray, he ugly all same you, got red hair, -cut 'long him nose, tooth all break?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's him," agreed Harris.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti took a turn across the deck, and fell silent, -angrily chewing a lock of her hair. The horrid vision -of Donahue risen from his ocean grave, and wandering -about the islands as a malignant ghost, bent on avenging -his death, had struck her as such a fancy could only strike -an islander, and almost paralysed her active mind. -Now she realised that it was merely a case of mistaken -newspaper report, and that Donahue had somehow -escaped from the wreck of his schooner, and was once -more roaming the islands in the flesh—at the very lowest -ebb of fortune, it was evident, but probably none the -less dangerous for that. She was quite certain that he -was in some way at the bottom of this business of -cursing the crew, although no doubt the witch-doctor -and Mata had been intermediary. And it was no trifle. -Sheer mutiny she would have much preferred.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wot's it all about?" asked Gray, who had not -been so long in the islands as the mate. "Wot's the -odds if a lot of bally niggers thinks they've been cursed? -Seems to me anythin' the witch-doctor could do wouldn't -be likely to harm a crew that's been salted by our old -man in the cursin' way. There ain't no witch-what-d'ye-call-'em -about the islands that can lay over 'im -for language."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, shut up! You don't know anything about it," -said Harris with irritation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Suppose you tells me," suggested Gray, tucking -another quid into his cheek, and looking dispassionately -at the crew, who were now lying on deck rolling about -with the motion of the vessel, and looking half dead -already. "Doesn't seem as if we was goin' to have -much bother with that lot.... And you gettin' as -white at the gills as a flounder, thinkin' they was goin' -to take charge. Go 'ome and learn a ladies' dancin'-class, -Mr. 'Arris; you ain't fit to 'andle men."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll handle you if——" Harris was beginning -roughly, when Vaiti, whose temper had been badly -ruffled by the events of the last half-hour, stepped across -the deck and delivered two stinging blows, one on -Harris's right ear and one on Gray's left.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You take'm that," she said. "Alliti, you speak -bo'sun about Maori 'mana.' Glay, you lemember -Alliti mate, no give cheek."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Want to know if I've got any left for myself, before -I start givin' it away," observed the bo'sun ruefully, -rubbing his face. "But better be slapped nor neglected -by a pretty girl, hany day, says I."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti did not smile, but leaned over the rail, and -began staring at the crew. She was in no mood for -flattery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, if you want to know, it's like this," said -Harris. "These native blokes, they thinks some of -their chiefs has got what they call 'mana.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wot's that mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pretty near any thin', take it by and large, but -one meanin's all we want, and that's the notion they -have that these chiefs can sort of blast 'em with a -curse, so's they'll go away and die. Like as if I was a -chief, and you was a common man, same as you are, -anyhow, and I was to say, 'Gray, you go off out of this -and die next Thursday at four bells in the afternoon -watch.' And you says to me, says you, 'Ay, ay, sir,' -says you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Blowed if I would," ejaculated the bo'sun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, you would, you chump, because you'd be a -bloomin' native, and they always does. So off you'd -go, and when Thursday come you'd lie down and die -at four bells, wherever you happened to be."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wot of?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothin'—you'd run down like a watch—sort of -'stop short never to go again' business, like the -grandfather's clock—and when you was dead you'd stay -dead. That's all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I never 'eard worse rot in all me days," said -the bo'sun disgustedly. "Think I'm going to believe all -that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who cares what you believes or what you don't?" -demanded Harris, "You'll —— well see all about it -soon enough. Vaiti she says they says Mata went to -the witch-doctor, who they're as much afraid of as any -chief in Niué, for all they're by way of bein' Christian, and -he cursed them up and down and inside and out, worst -style, and says they're all to die by sunset, to-night. -And if I knows anything of natives they'll do it. I'll -lay you, we got to work the ship up to Raratonga -ourselves—if we ever get there. Of all the low-down, -mean skinks that ever walked, them natives are the -worst. They haven't a blessed scrap of consideration -in them for anyone but themselves. Here we are with -every man-jack of these fellows got an advance on his -wages, and they says they're going to die! Die! I've -no patience with them. I do hate selfishness and -meanness."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="breaking-the-mana"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">BREAKING THE MANA</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Vaiti all this time had been steadily watching the -men as they lay about on the main-deck in various -attitudes of limp resignation. One or two—notably the -emotional Shalli—were already beginning to look ill. -Matters looked badly enough for the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>. It was in -the hurricane season, and signs were not wanting that -the calm would break up with energy when it did -break. If the crew persisted in their dying, other -people who had not been in any way subjected to the -witch-doctor's operations might find it incumbent on -them to die too. She did not for a moment doubt -the Niuéan's power to slay. Had she not more than -once seen the queen, who was her own cousin, politely -dismiss some offender with the significant remark, -"I wish I may never see you again after to-morrow" -(for the queen was always courteous, and would never -have used the crude terms of a Niuéan witch-doctor); -and had not every one on the island known that with -the next evening's sunset the wretch would lay him -down and die as surely as the dark would fall? These -men were doomed, and the ship would miss the steamer -and the cargo would not be sold, and possibly the -schooner would be lost in the blow that was creeping -up, and none of them would ever go home any more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus the native side of Vaiti spoke. But now the -white side woke up and demanded its innings too. -Was it endurable that the red-headed rat of a Donahue -(for she was as certain that he had been at the bottom -of the matter as only a woman with no direct evidence -to go on can be) should win the last move in the deadly -game they had been playing this year and more. -Was she to get into difficulties, and perhaps lose the -ship, the very first time that she had taken off the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> -all alone? The fact that such a disaster would include -the losing of herself did not trouble, as it did not console, -her. She would leave her reputation behind her, and -people, when they spoke of Vaiti of the Islands, would -say——</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No, they wouldn't, and they shouldn't. The white -blood was up now. It was impossible to prevent the -"mana" from working. Well, let it be. She would -do the impossible. She had done the impossible before, -in many ways; it was the only sort of thing really -very well worth doing, in the opinion of Vaiti of the -Islands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whatever was to be done must be done quickly. -The storm was not far away, and the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> was rolling -in the trough of the increasing swell with every rag of -sail set.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What you goin' to do?" asked Harris hopelessly, -as he saw her move. "Give them medicine? It -ain't any good."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, give 'em medicine—you and Gray, you giving -it plenty by'n-by," said Vaiti calmly, beckoning the two -men over to her. The crew continued to lie on the deck, -giving no sign of life but an occasional groan. The wind -was beginning to cry a little among the rigging, just -whimpering, like a chidden child. A glassy tinkling of -foam sounded about the keel. The sun was almost down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You listen me," said the girl, her handsome, -hawk-like features looking curiously sombre in the orange -light. "I speak those men in Maori. I tell them some -thing—thing not belong 'papalangi.' You no -understan'. Wait."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, with a look on her face that the white men -had never seen there before, and were never to see -again, she stepped swiftly down the ladder, crossed -the main-deck, and stood in the midst of the prostrate -crew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As though struck themselves by a spell, Harris and -Gray remained motionless on the poop, only swaying -with the unconscious movement of the sailor to the roll -of his ship, while they watched with fascinated eyes -the scene upon the lower deck. The crew at first lay -still as logs, while Vaiti stood and looked at them—only -looked. Presently they began to open their eyes -and roll over, and the weeping, which had apparently -ceased, began again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Vaiti, suddenly flinging her arms high above -her head, with her light muslin dress fluttering in the -wind and all her magnificent hair falling to her knees, -burst into such a flood of speech as made the two -hard-bitten Englishmen on the poop open eyes of stolid -amaze. There is no language in the world so full of -eloquent possibilities as the Maori tongue—even in the -somewhat debased and altered type that is current -among the islands. And, hidden away somewhere in -the strange nature of this strange thing in woman's -shape, there was more than a touch of the true witch -wildness and fire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lord!" said Harris, in a tone of awe. "She's the -devil himself!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked it, as she stood there in that livid light, -her arms stretched high to heaven, her voice—was there -ever a voice so full of passion, prophecy, command?—ringing -out, now high, now low, now in tones vibrating -with some subtle suggestion of horror that caused even -the uncomprehending whites upon the poop to feel a -cold shudder about the region of the spine. Upon the -crew the effect was marvellous, yet, from Gray's and -Harris's point of view, unsatisfactory as well. The -limp figures sat up, it was true, wept afresh, and even -rose to their feet before long; but it was only to rush -wildly up and down the heaving deck, driven, it seemed, -by the sting of an agony greater than any they had -suffered yet. Above the loose sails thundered and the -wind wailed wickedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gray, at a motion from the mate, went to the idle -wheel and grasped the spokes. The </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> would want -watching soon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Strike me pink if this isn't the craziest ship's -company outside a lunertic asylum from Yokohama to -the 'Orn," muttered the bo'sun to himself. "Now, -what the 'ell is </span><em class="italics">that</em><span>? Ho, Jemmy Gray, why don't -you look for a berth as a bally stoker in a bally Red Sea -liner, or a supercargo on a Chinese pirate junk, and -'ave a quiet life at your age? Here, Mr. 'Arris, you -going to let 'er shoot 'erself before your heyes?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti had plucked out her revolver again, but instead -of threatening the crew with it, she was holding it close -to her own curly head, all the time pouring forth a -river of eloquent Maori, strongly charged with adjurations -and threats. It needed no translation to understand -so much, not to see the abject if inexplicable -terror of the crew, who cowered and howled in an -extremity of distress every time she raised the pistol to -her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Vaiti, Vaiti! What're you doing, Cap?" yelled -Harris. "You'll shoot yourself! Are you crazy? -What are you givin' 'em, for Cord's sake?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti turned round, and cried angrily at him:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hold 'm tongue! You no leave me myself, very -quick I shooting you. I tell those men I great chief, -no one can take 'um curse away, but can come 'long -all those men myself, suppose they die—go Raratonga -when 'um night come, an' all those man soul he running -quick, quick, all a-cold, 'long those mountains top -Raratonga where 'um dead man he go to jumping-off -place. A—a—h! I put one bullet in head belong me, -very quick, suppose those men they got dam cheek go -an' die. I coming, very dead, very angry, I go 'long -that soul, all a-time; no let 'um rest, no let 'um see -woman fliend, die long time ago—I take big club belong -chief, make 'um run, cry, all-a-time—no sleep, no eat, -no lie down! A—a—h! no go heaven, no go hell, -all-a-time, for ever'n ever, Amen. I pay him out for -going die!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She stormed through the brief speech like a hot-season -squall, and instantly returned to the natives. -Harris, struck dumb by the entirely unprecedented -nature of the situation, could find no vent for his feelings -save in plucking off his cap and casting it under his feet. -She was threatening the crew that she would kill herself -if they died; follow them to the land of shades (the -entrance to which was popularly supposed to be over -the edge of a certain desolate, far-up mountain precipice -in Raratonga), and make it so hot for them in the -"otherwhere" that they would certainly wish they -hadn't dared to die.... What on earth was a man to -do in a ship commanded by a thing—he could not call -it a woman—that talked like that—with night coming -on, too, and something very like a bad blow unpleasantly -near?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti did not leave him long in doubt as to what he -was to do. The crew, driven previously to the verge -of frenzy by her gruesome threats, became entirely -frantic during the eloquent peroration that followed -her address to Harris. They ran up and down the deck; -they shrieked, they prayed, they besought. Vaiti, with -the eye of a hunter watching a quarry almost driven to -bay, kept a keen look-out through all her fiery eloquence, -and just at the moment when the men seamed driven -to the highest point of human endurance, turned to the -mate with a triumphant cry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Alliti! he all right by'n-by: I no shoot -myself, I think. You and bo'sun you get rope's end very -quick, give 'um order shorten sail, make 'um go. I -think he go; he too much plenty frighten die 'long me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Too much plenty frighten" the men were indeed. -The threat that Vaiti had made—for the carrying out -of which they doubted neither her ability nor her will, -any more than she did herself—was so much more potent -than the curse of the witch-doctor that the terror of -the one paled before the terror of the other. For the -moment, they felt that they might not be able to live, -but they certainly must not die; and it was right in -the middle of this illogical state of mind that the mate -and bo'sun came in with their rope's ends and settled -the matter once for all. An hour ago, red-hot irons -only would have moved them to hurry up with their -dying. Now a couple of ropes' ends, laid about among -the six with a will, drove them howling up the masts -and out along the yards, where, with Gray and Harris -still after them, and Vaiti threatening from below, -they succeeded in getting the sails stowed and the vessel -snug in very little over the ordinary time. The blow -that followed kept all hands busy the night through, -but it came from the right quarter, and the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> fled -before it at such a speed that morning found her only -half a day's run from Raratonga, with the wind quieting -down to a pleasant breeze, the schooner uninjured, and -the crew as cheerful and busy as they had ever been -in their lives.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti caught the steamer, sold her copra, and saw it -on the wharf ready to load. Then she went back to -the schooner, and waited till the last of the men -returned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Suppose you like go die now, plenty time for you," -she said. "Plenty good sailor-man stop Raratonga. -You go 'long die; I no want."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The men looked at her sheepishly, and Shalli, the -spokesman, scratched his head and surveyed a heap of -tributary pigs, fowls, and fruit that lay on the deck of -the schooner before he answered. The crew had many -relations about Raratonga, and the relations had done -them very well this trip.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Many thanks, great chieftainess," he said at last, -in his own tongue. "We are much obliged to you, but -we have changed our minds, and now we do not ever -mean to die at all."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-game-played-out"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE GAME PLAYED OUT</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Every one in the trader's had gone to bed, and Vaiti, -barefoot and dressed in dark cotton, had just got out -of her room by the window, and was gliding noiselessly -down the back verandah.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The moon was down, and the thick darkness under -the trees of the village covered her safely as she slipped -along at the backs of the little white, palm-thatched -houses. It was not at all likely that any native would -be about in the middle of the night, but one could never -reckon on white men, of whom there were several in -the little town—and Vaiti, being engaged as usual on -"urgent private affairs," did not want any inquiries.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She got away from the village without remark, and -then struck into one of the narrow grass roads penetrating -the bush. Everything was asleep. The little green -parrots were hidden deep under heavy leaves, each -with its noisy head tucked under its wing. The lizards -that had been darting and flickering all day long about -the path now slept, chill as little stones, among the roots -of the trees. There was a cold, dewy smell in the air, -and the palm-tree plumes were motionless as drawings -in Indian ink against the violet gloom of the sky. Very -far away the immemorial music of the reef beat softly -in the dark.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti girded her dress high, and walked swiftly. She -had a long way to go, and she wanted to be back in her -neat, white, mosquito-curtained bed, sleeping the sleep -of the innocent, before the trader's wife should come in -with her morning cup of tea. Vaiti was a past mistress -in the art of avoiding useless comment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Three miles, five miles, seven miles.... It was -right at the other side of the island, past mile after mile -of tangled bush, acre after acre of sparsely planted, -rocky, open ground, grove after grove of tall, plumy -cocoanut, heavy with fruit. Oranges grew by the track -here and there; broad green banners of banana leaf -blotted out whole sections of the stars, and slim, quaint -mummy-apple trees stood up among the prickly coral -rocks. Vaiti had no time to stop, but she snatched a -little refreshment on her way from time to time, as the -wayfarer may always do in the kindly South Sea climate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She struck at last into a narrow track leading off -the main pathway—so small that in the dusk of the -starry night it must have been invisible save for a mass -of pointed rocks that stood up just beside the overgrown -entrance and made a landmark. Afterwards came a mile -or two of tangled walking among clumps of pink and -scarlet and yellow hibiscus, all reduced to a common -blackness by the levelling night, and through thorny -lemon-trees, and over rocky knolls where there was -scarce footing for a goat.... A lonely God-forsaken -region this; not a village, nor even the gleam of a -solitary white-washed hut. What had the "Kapitani" -of the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> to do with such a place?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti knew very well indeed what she had to do. She -had gathered in the town that the mysterious white -man who "lived native" in the bush had his dwelling -about this lonely neighbourhood. It was very well -known to her, and she meant to find the man's -dwelling-place, and see him with her own eyes before...</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, that was still to come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It took her rather longer than she had expected, but -she did at last succeed in finding the tumble-down little -palm-leaf shanty, built against the side of a rock, that -she had heard described. It was a miserable place, -so far as her cat-like eyes could judge it in the purple -gloom, not more than three or four yards long, and -looking like nothing so much as a heap of dead leaves -and rubbish piled against the rock. She trod noiselessly -round its three sides, and listened here and there. -The door, as she ascertained by feeling, was a heavy mat -hung up from the eaves, and it was tightly fastened across -the opening. There was a faint sound of slow, heavy -breathing from within. The man was evidently asleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti climbed up on the rock above the hut, and pulled -away a piece of the loose grey coral of which it was -composed. Then, sheltering herself behind a clump -of hibiscus growing in a cleft, she raised her voice in -a fearful squealing cry, exactly reproducing the yell -of a wild pig wandering in the bush at night. At the -same time she cast a lump of coral with all her strength -down the side of the big rock, whence it landed with a -crash in the middle of a mass of brushwood, burying -itself completely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The double noise, as she had anticipated, brought -out the owner of the hut, very cross and sleepy, clad -only in a pareo, and angrily anxious for the safety of -his patch of yams. He carried a torch in his hand, -made of blazing candlenuts strung on a stick ("Must -have run out every bit of credit at the stores," thought -Vaiti parenthetically), and he was, beyond all shadow -of doubt, against all common probability, the -red-haired master of the </span><em class="italics">Ikurangi</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If looks could ever blast, those black eyes behind -the hibiscus boughs would have slain him where he -stood. Vaiti quivered with rage as she watched him -shambling sleepily about, looking, with his long, matted -red hair, bloated, evil face, and half naked body, infinitely -lower than any coloured native on the island.... He -had not prospered since he escaped the wreck of the -</span><em class="italics">Ikurangi</em><span>—how or where she did not care to know. -He looked as if he had been living on the natives -and half drinking himself to death, as was indeed the case.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Vaiti was not in the least mollified by his -unprosperous case. In her opinion, he ought to have been -dead long ago. There could be no peace of mind for -her while he was still drifting about the Pacific, ever -on the alert to do her an evil turn. She was not equal -to actual murder, and, in any case, Niué was a -British-owned island, with a resident Commissioner and a -regular nest of missionaries, where you had to be very -careful of what you did. But if any accident—a safe, -convenient accident—should befall him by-and-by, -why, it would certainly be an advantage to the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> -and her owners. Well, that might come about, and -without introducing Saxon into it either. In such a -delicate matter Saxon's interference would very likely -have acted much as a charge of dynamite might act -in the destruction of a wasps' nest—something more -than the wasps would probably come to grief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She waited until the ugly creature had rolled back -into his cottage and shut the make-shift door. Then she -slipped down from the rock once more, and began -the second part of her errand. Neither then, nor at -any other time, did she trouble to find out the manner -of Donahue's escape. If she had, she would have heard -that he had been picked up by a native canoe, floating -about on a piece of wreck the day after the disaster -that destroyed the </span><em class="italics">Ikurangi</em><span>, and that, he had spent a -good many months on a neighbouring island before a -stray schooner had consented to accept his watch for -passage money and convey him as far as Niué—the -only place near their course where a penniless -beachcomber would have been allowed to land. As things -were, he was more or less smuggled off, and thought -best to take refuge in the bush at once. The moneyless -adventurer is not encouraged in islands belonging to -the British Crown.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is easy, therefore, to understand why Donahue, -living under an assumed name in the far interior of -the island, had not been recognised, and was not likely -to be, by any one save the person whom his presence -most concerned. His malice against Vaiti had by no -means evaporated with the events that took place on -Vaka. He did not, as it happened, suspect her of having -actually caused the loss of the </span><em class="italics">Ikurangi</em><span>, but he was of a -darkly superstitious nature, and laid down his ill-luck, -first, last, and all through, to the fact of her influence. -She had been a "Jonah" of the worst kind to him, and -he would have been very glad indeed to serve her any ill -turn of any kind that might be possible. But only the -small piece of spite compassed through Mata had, so far, -lain within his power.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti had still a mile or two to go, and it was waxing -very late, or rather, early. She almost ran along the -winding rocky path, following it as easily as if broad -day or full moon had surrounded her instead of star-lit -dark. Now the sound of the sea, unheard for the last -hour, broke out again, and a cold salt breath from the -beach cut through the heavy perfume of the forest track. -In another minute she was out of the wood and fairly -running down a sloping, sandy track that led to a little -white house standing alone on the shore.... She -laughed as she ran—it was such a soft, clear night, and -the sea called so pleasantly down in the dark, and she -did so dearly love an adventure—especially when all -the world imagined her to be sleeping quietly in her -mosquito-netted bed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no secrecy about this matter apparently. -The house had a good wooden door, and she rapped -loudly on it with a stone, calling at the same time, -"Sona! Sona! Wake up!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a brief interval, in which the rollers tore -at the beach and the palms swung and crashed overhead, -uninterrupted by other sound. Sona was evidently -asleep. She struck loudly on the door again. This -time some one answered in a drowsy voice, and a slow, -shuffling foot came to the door. The hinges creaked, -and in another minute a small, bent, feeble figure appeared -on the threshold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tck! tck!" it clucked. "Is there magic in -the air, and have I grown fifty years younger, that the -lovely maidens come to my door in the starlight once -more? Is it my beauty that has struck you to the -heart, chieftainess Vaiti; or do you want a charm -to catch the love of some one less deserving than -myself?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A fit of coughing interrupted him; he crept out to -the open air, and clung to the door-post, shaking all over -with the violence of the paroxysm. There was more -light here, down by the foaming rollers; one could see, -if one had been walking half the night in the dark bush, -that the man was very small and hairy, very decrepit, -and very, very old. Indeed, the personal appearance of -Sona, solitary recluse of the Avarangi beach, good -Nonconformist Christian on Sundays, and heathen -witch-doctor out of business hours, was a very important -item of his stock-in-trade. He looked his part to -perfection, and knew it. His very name was a piece of -business, even though, rightly pronounced and written. -it was that of the godly man of Nineveh. When Shark-Tooth -of Avarangi had consented, largely for reasons of -policy, to join the mission fold a good many years -before—the last straggling heathens on the island having -been then "brought in" by the exertions of a determined -and energetic missionary—he had selected the -name of Jonah for his baptismal title solely because, so -far as he could ascertain, the original bearer of the name -was proverbial for bringing bad luck to his enemies—and -that was the sort of reputation that Shark-Tooth -especially coveted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti had not met him before, but she knew him well -by reputation, and was very sure that he knew all he -cared to know—probably a good deal—about her. -It was, she thought, a case for going straight to the point, -so she went very straight indeed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me in, Sona," she said in his own tongue. "I -want to talk with you, and I want to buy you; for you -and I are wise people, and I know that there is nothing -that may not be bought."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Crah—crah—crah!" cackled Sona, in a feeble -old man's laugh, tacking a joke to the end of it that -might well have raised a blush on Vaiti's cheek if she -had been capable of such a weakness. He led the way -into the house, still cackling, lit an ill-smelling kerosene -lamp, and sank down upon the mats, a mere heap of -crumpled cotton clothes, old bones, and ancient wickedness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti pulled out her cigar-case, tossed the old creature -a cigar, which he clutched at eagerly, and lit one for -herself. Then she squatted down on the mats, her back -against the wall, and puffed for a minute or two in -silence. Old Sona watched her eagerly with his glassy -little eyes. He saw that she was not angry at the part -he had played in the late unpleasant occurrence upon the -schooner, or at least that she did not mean to resent it. -He had heard all about the strange happenings of the -voyage, and was a good deal awed at the power of the -woman who had actually broken the spell of his curse—in -which, be it observed, he believed most fully himself, -with excellent reasons for doing so. And he was really -very anxious to know what she wanted now, and -especially what he was going to make by it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti pulled at her cigar vigorously for a minute to -make it draw well, and then, with a leisurely puff, -remarked in Sona's own tongue:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mata gave you a gold ring to curse my sailors -that they should die—all the village knows of it, so -you need not deny it, old man with the face of a scavenger-crab. -Was it not foolish of you to set yourself against -Vaiti, the great sea-princess—very foolish to run into -danger, and for so little?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes, so little," repeated Sona, in a kind of -wail.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now I come to buy you for myself," went on Vaiti, -puffing between words (she smoked like most women, -very hard and fast). "I buy like a great chief's daughter, -and you shall feed and drink well for a long time if you -are faithful to me. If not, I shall split you open with -my knife as one splits open a fish on the beach, and -leave you out on the strand, so that the crabs may come -and eat you before you are dead. That is what I shall -do to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I belong to the high chieftainess, soul and liver," -quavered Sona nervously. Vaiti, hardly looking at -him, pulled something out of her dress and flung it -down carelessly on the mat between the two. Sona's -eyes glittered, for he heard the chink of gold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Take it, old pig of the woods," said Vaiti -contemptuously, and he clutched eagerly at the little -parcel of rag. It contained a roll of gold coins. Sona, -panting with mingled delight and fear lest his visitor -should change her mind, scuttled away to some hiding-hole -in an inner room, and concealed the packet with -breathless haste. Then he returned to the lamp-lit -room, where Vaiti sat smoking and waiting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am yours, high chieftainess; I am yours," he -repeated, rubbing his hands together and cackling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is this thing they tell about a devil that -stays upon the road to Mua, and comes out at night-time?" -asked Vaiti carelessly, looking over Sona's -head at the wall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sona shut up his eyes very tight, and shook his shaggy -little head from side to side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you ask the good misinari doctor, he will tell -you," he answered. "As for me, I have nothing to do with -devils. I am a very old man, and I want to go to heaven.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will go to-night, old scorpion-head, if you do -not tell me everything I want to know," remarked -Vaiti. Her tone was pleasant, but there was a flavour -of something else below the pleasantness that caused -Sona, literally and figuratively, to sit up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I tell, I tell, high chieftainess," he stammered -eagerly. "The thing is known to all the people on the -island—even the white people. It happened only last -year, and it is as true as the Good Book. It was the -foolish man from Mua way, whom they called a -witch-doctor—and every one knows that such a thing does not -exist, high chieftainess; but they said he was that thing, -and he said so himself, because he was proud and mad. -Now, we all know that there are many devils on Niué, -and that the misinaris never were able to drive them -all away. And there is a very bad devil on that road -to Mua, right where the six palm-trees stand up by -themselves among the graves. It is powerless in the -day, but at night there is no Niué man who would dare -to go there. Sometimes the white traders will ride -past the place coming home in the dark, but it is a true -thing that their horses will often shy and bolt when -they come near to the home of the devil, and no man -can say why; indeed, the devils, for the most part, do -not have power over the 'papalangi.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So this witch-doctor, as he called himself, said that -he did not fear the devil, and he would go and stay the -night among the graves, thinking that because of that -all the people in the island would believe in him, and -give him many pigs and yams for fear of his 'mana.' So -he went to the devil-place, and all night he stayed, -but in the morning he did not come back at all. And -by-and-by all the people of his village went together -to look for him. And they found him lying on the -road, all dead, and his face was black and his body -twisted up. So the people brought him to the misinari -doctor, and he said that he could not make him alive -again. And the traders said, 'What is the kind of this -death? We do not know it, though we are white men -and know everything.' But the misinari doctor did -not know. And they buried him, and that is all, high -chieftainess."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti smoked thoughtfully. She had heard something -of the tale before, and Sona's story did not vary from -the version that was generally current about the island. -She thought, on the whole, that she believed in it. -There was no doubt that many of the white people gave -it credit, though a few of them declared the man must -have died in a drunken fit. A paper in Australia had -published an account of the mysterious incident, and -the spiritualistic set in Sydney were so deeply interested -in it that a letter of inquiry from a psychical research -society had been sent up to the island, inquiring into -the matter. But it happened that the trader to whom -the letter was addressed had committed suicide a good -many months earlier, and excellent onions and pumpkins -(much appreciated by his successor) were growing green -upon his grave by the time the letter reached the island. -So the inquiry was never answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yes, on the whole, Vaiti thought she believed the -story. That a similar result would follow in the case of -a "papalangi" (white man) who followed the deceased -magician's example she did not, however, believe. -She thought it very likely, however, that mischief of -one kind or another would result.... And if the worst -should chance to come about....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti took another cigar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What does your misinari say?" she asked. "He -is not the right sort of misinari, it is true, but still, -he should know more about devils than the traders."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Our good misinari was not here when it happened," -replied Sona in a pious tone. "It was the doctor -misinari. Our own good misinari says that devils -cannot do harm to any but bad men."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti reflected, her eyes on the floor. She really -had some respect, in an odd, upside-down kind of way, -for missionary opinion. It is bred in the bone with the -younger generation of Eastern Pacific islanders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Donahue was certainly a very bad man. She did not -think she had ever met any one much worse. Perhaps -the badness, balanced against the whiteness, might -swing down the scale. At any rate....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hear me, Sona!" she said, in a voice of command. -"I have bought you to-night, and you belong to me. -There will be more to pay by-and-by if you do as I tell -you. But I would warn you to be careful, for you will -not find it pleasant lying on the shore down there, with -your inside hanging out like a gutted fish, and the crabs -coming running to eat you before you are dead, as you -will if you make any mistakes. Listen, then, very -carefully."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I listen, I listen!" cried Sona.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="how-the-witch-doctor-got-his-money-back"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">HOW THE WITCH-DOCTOR GOT HIS MONEY BACK</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When the trader's wife came in next morning with -Vaiti's cup of tea, she was touched to see how deeply -her pretty lodger was sleeping.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor young dear," said the good woman, "lying -there so sweet and innocent, sleeping like a baby! -It's only the good heart that rests like that. I don't -believe a word of the silly lies they tell about her. Here, -dear, wake up," she called gently. "Your good papa -is ever so much better this morning, and looking for -you to come in. And it is Sunday morning, and a nice -cool day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, Mrs. Smith," said Vaiti politely, broad -awake at once. "May I asking you one little hot -water? I like get up and go to turch."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Church, attended for reasons religious or otherwise, -was not one of the amusements patronised by the -nameless white man of the bush. Indeed, his amusements, -such as they were, were so far confined to the -native villages of the interior that very few of the other -whites had seen him. He was not good for trade, -having no money and possessing no credit—that was all -they knew, or for the most part wanted to know, about -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was all the more astonishment, therefore, in -the shanty owned by the Mua trader, away up in the -bush, when the unknown man walked into the store -that Sunday night, and demanded some tobacco, at the -same time showing a sovereign he held in his hand. He -was dressed in a pitiful mass of rags, none too clean, -but he looked well pleased with himself, and was more -than half drunk. Fortune had apparently found him -out at last.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Mua trader was an honest man, but he did not -see why he should not have a share in anything good -that happened to be available about that lonely and -unprofitable district. So he welcomed the stranger in -with much cordiality, and asked him to stop for supper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The newcomer had no objection in the world to come -in and share the trader's good tinned meats and new -yeast bread, and he made himself very much at home -without pressing. The trader, who had a private -store of consolation in his own back kitchen, plied the -spirits freely. He was curious, and he believed in the -old saw of "Wine in, truth out." A couple of friends -who had ridden over from Alofi, the capital, and were -equally curious about the derelict's sudden access to -fortune, did their disinterested best to help, and the -bottle went merrily round. The Niué traders are a -sober, decent set of people enough, but Donahue had -mixed with them so little that he did not know this, -and consequently was not put on his guard by the unusual -conviviality. Indeed, he was by no means the same -active, crafty villain who had set that successful snare -of the diamond necklace in Apia many months ago. A -white man cannot "live native" without going downhill -very fast, and Donahue was nearly at the bottom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So he drank, and laughed, and told evil tales, and grew -quarrelsome, and pathetic, and finally affectionate and -confidential, in well-defined stages, while all the time -the other men kept sober, or nearly so. The Mua -trader in particular hardly touched his glass. But -Donahue, once so wary, never saw, and chattered on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before midnight the trader had sold him some gay -calico for the native' girls, and a little tinned meat and -flour, and half-a-dozen various trifles that brought -the score up to about a pound. Here the guest came -to a pause and fingered his coin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, well, if that's all you have, you won't get any -more goods to-night. Thanks," said the trader, putting -out his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The visitor, however, declined to hand over the money. -He would pay to-morrow, he said. He was not going -to leave himself without money again—not if he knew -it—and he would have lots to-morrow: and if the trader -wouldn't send up the goods without the cash to-night, -why, he might keep his condemned rubbish, and his -customer would go elsewhere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rather than lose the order, the other gave in, and -sent a boy away with the stuff. It would always be -easy to bully him out of it afterwards, he thought, and -there was no arguing with a drunken man's whim.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he set himself, in company with all the rest, to -find out where the money had come from.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Donahue, who by now was far gone, responded -readily. It was the silly old chap who lived down on -Avarangi beach, he said; an old fool who was an uncle -of a girl who was a friend of his. The old chap had a -notion that there were some Spanish doubloons hidden -somewhere on the island, but in a place he was afraid -to touch, so he had forked out a good British sovereign, -and offered it to Donahue to go in his place, and share -the money with him. Donahue was to keep the earnest -money for his trouble, if nothing came of it, and if -anything did turn up he was to take half. So he was -going, that very night—the sooner the better. Natives -were—well, natives; but as for him, he was afraid of -nothing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thasser-sort-er-man I am," he finished thickly, -looking round for applause.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not get it. The traders one and all burst -out laughing. The story of the doubloons, they told -him, was a very old one in the island, and only the -newest of new chums thought of believing it. It was -quite true that the natives, who were perfect magpies -for hoarding, did possess among them a certain number -of doubloons, which came from God-knows-where—for -the coinage used in the island was British—and true -also that the trader would get a doubloon from one of -them every now and then in the course of business, -always with some mystery attached to it, and some -reluctance to part with the coin. But the Resident -Commissioner, who knew the island pretty well, and the -missionary too, had long been certain that the store was -merely the remains of some ship-wrecking raid of past -days, about which the Niuéans were now ashamed to -speak. They were great misers, and it would like enough -be another generation before all the hoarded coins -had come to light and passed through the traders' -hands. But hidden treasure in Niué! Pf! If old -Sona had been giving away money, he must be either -going mad with age or (more likely) up to something. -He was the cutest old fox on Niué, and that was saying -something. Why, when he had come into that very store -to buy a darning-needle a few hours ago (what a man -who lived in a waist-cloth and nothing else wanted -with a darning-needle he hadn't explained), it had -been all the trader could do to prevent his picking up -half-a-dozen odds and ends. That was what he was -like if one ever took an eye off him; and he wouldn't -even pay for the needle, either, till the trader had -threatened to hammer him unless he forked out. Take -his word for it, if Sona had been giving away money, -he meant to have it back—somehow. And the treasure -was poppy-cock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Donahue had now passed into the quarrelsome stage, -and he rose with tipsy dignity from his seat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I considdle you no gennlemen," he said scornfully. -"For half a Chile dorrer I'd" ... He mentioned -what he would do, in gross and in detail, to the assembled -company for the small sum mentioned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Kick the dirty brute out," said the Alofi trader -disgustedly. "It's easy to see what sort of company -that carrion has kept."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Donahue was gone, however—gone with surprising -agility, and lurching rapidly up the forest pathway -towards his house. His legs were always the last thing -to fail him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He knew very well that he had had too much, and -when he reached his hut he proceeded to sober himself -by dipping his head repeatedly in a bucket of water. -Then he brewed himself a powerful jorum of black tea, -drank it, and set off considerably sobered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a long way to the clump of palms, and he -stumbled badly now and then as he went over the -graves that lay thick about the edges of the path. -Burial along the high-road is very popular in Niué, -where they like to keep an eye on their dead and see -that they are lying quiet in their graves—a thing that -no one considers at all a matter of course. Some of -the graves that Donahue passed had felt hats laid upon -them; others had plates, bowls, bottles of hair-oil, -fans—all to amuse the ghost and keep it quiet; and one -or two looked ghostly enough to scare a nervous person -as it was, with the wraith-like mosquito curtains -thoughtfully suspended over the tomb by mourning and anxious -relatives. Every grave was completed by a solid mass -of concrete, weighing anything from several hundredweight -to a ton. It was not the fault of any Niuéan -if his dead relatives "walked."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Donahue as he went chuckled to himself at the -thought of his keenness in over-reaching the old -witch-doctor. He had used him for his own purposes through -the girl Mata before, and though that had not worked -out too well, it was the witch-doctor who bore the -discredit, not he. He would use him again now, and in -another way. It was in the daytime that Sona had -arranged to meet him at the palm-tree clump. At night, -he said, it would be certain death; and even in daylight -no one would linger there who could help it. He at -least would never dare to disturb the big tomb in which -the money was hidden and call down the anger of the -devils on himself, unless he had a white man with him -who feared nothing. So next morning, very early, the -white man who was so brave would meet him, and they -would open the big, cracked tomb together—the tomb -that no Niuéan had ever dared to lay a finger on before, -though there were one or two besides himself who -suspected that it was just there the mysterious foreign -coins had come from years ago, and that there were a -good many left.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus the witch-doctor. And Donahue had assented -eagerly, and gone off with his earnest money. And, -on arriving at his hut, he had looked out an old axe -that he possessed, and cleaned up his lamp, and begged -a drop of oil from the nearest native house. For he -meant to go that very night, and take everything there -was for himself. Who was to prove it?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Which was just the course of action that Sona had -calculated very confidently on his taking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It poured furiously in an hour or two, for it was in -the hot season, and the great rains were out. Donahue -could not light his lamp when he came to the clump -of palms, which he knew well enough to recognise almost -in the pitch dark. It thundered soon after, and the -sky was split from pole to pole by corpse-blue flashes of -lightning. In one of these, Donahue, feeling about -the cracks of the tomb, thought he saw something -moving against the gloom of the bush near at hand. -It made his throat turn dry, for all the wet, and he felt -his hair prickle curiously. But he went on groping. -Another flash ripped up the sky; it was a smaller one, -but for one horrible moment he thought he had been -struck, for something stinging streaked across his face -and gave him an ugly thrill. But it passed immediately, -and he began groping again—groping with both hands, -in a frantic hurry, trying to make out the best place to -apply the axe—tearing and grasping and scuffling like -some deadly graveyard mole, breathless, with beads of -warm sweat coursing down his face through the streams -of chilly rain.... He was fighting—fighting he knew -not what and knew not why—but he was fighting, -for all that, fighting hard, with the stone falling away -from his nerveless hands, and the breath in his body -sinking down under some nightmare oppression, and -the sound of the thunder now almost continuous, blending -itself with another and far louder sound that was -battering madly in his ears. He was fighting -with—— Christ!—it was Death!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The thunder passed, as tropic storms do pass, suddenly -and completely. The dawn shot up in the east, wet -and red, and cast long, black, ghostly shadows, set -shaking by an icy wind, low down upon the -palm-trunks and the grave. But Donahue did not want -the light. The axe lay untouched beside him; and -he lay over the tomb, dead. And his face was black -and his body was all contorted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was barely daylight yet when something small -and slow crept out of the bush, and began hunting -carefully near the corpse. It could not find what it -wanted, seemingly, and this distressed it, for it whimpered -pitifully in a thin old voice, and looked long before -it desisted. Then it put its claws into the dead man's -pockets, and hunted through them, before it finally -disappeared down the road.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Mua trader was at his door when a howling -procession of natives came into the village, carrying the -white man's corpse to his home. The Alofi trader, -who had found the body, stepped aside to speak. After -the tale of the finding had been told, the Mua trader -asked slowly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you think of searching his pockets? A dead -man's a dead man—and I'd not be sorry to have the -money he owed me, for the natives will have taken the -goods by this time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They were empty when I found him. Queer, for -I was the first to see him," said the other. "I found -this thing on the road close by, though. Do you -recognise it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the trader's darning-needle, stuck neatly into -the end of a tiny, arrow-like reed, and stained at the -point with some dark sticky stuff.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Mua trader took it in his hand, smelt it and looked -at it closely. Then he walked to his kitchen, and, -watched by the Alofi trader, threw the thing into the -fire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's what I think of it," he said. "My boy, I -traded in the worst of the Solomons for three years. -I'm the only man on the island that knows that thing, -bar one—and he was a plantation hand in the Solomons, -in the black-birding days. There's no wanderers like -the Nuié men."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think——" began the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think," said the Mua trader, "that old Sona has -got his money back."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The schooner </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> had no reason for staying longer -in Niué, for the business of the ship was done, and the -captain was quite well again. A picture of perfect -beauty the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> made, as she stood out of Alofi roads -in the golden afternoon, every sail set and every inch -of cloth straining to the merry breeze. Niué was sorry -to part with Vaiti, for she had interested the island -considerably, and her beauty had, as usual, won her more -admiration than her temper deserved. Every one, on -parting, expressed a courteous wish to see the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> and -her owners again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For all that, and all that, the schooner came back -no more. Vaiti had won the game at last, but she never -willingly mentioned Niué again.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-calamity-of-coral-bay"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE CALAMITY OF CORAL BAY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The wide, still waters of Coral Bay were turning glassy -pink under the sunset afterglow. The </span><em class="italics">Sybil's</em><span> boat, -rowing rapidly towards the schooner, left as it went -a long, ugly flaw upon the stainless crystal of the -sea. It was very still, and the night was coming -down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Even in that uncertain twilight the colour of the boat -as it cut through the pale-hued water stood out strange -and sinister. Most boats are white in tropic seas: the -</span><em class="italics">Sybil's</em><span> had always been snowy as her own graceful hull. -Now they were vivid scarlet, and the ship herself had a -wide band of scarlet round her counter and flew a scarlet -flag at her masthead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Any islander could have told you at a glance what -these things meant. The schooner was "recruiting"—conveying -natives from the wild cannibal islands of -the New Hebrides to the Queensland sugar plantations. -Ten pounds a head was paid for the men on their arrival, -and it was politely supposed that these ignorant heathen -had one and all been duly engaged under a contract -to serve three years, at a wage of five pounds a year. -How much they understood of contracts, times, and -wages—where and what they thought Australia might -be—and what were the means employed to get them on -board the ship, nobody asked. Saxon was not the man -to answer, if any one had.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Why he had temporarily deserted the pleasant, peaceful -islands of the Eastern Pacific, and gone "black-birding" -in the wild and wicked and fever-smitten groups of the -West, was Saxon's own affair. Doubtless he had his -reasons; possibly they were satisfactory. But there is -reason to believe that about Apia and Papeëte at this -time he was characterised as a (double-adjectived) -liar, and an (impolite expression) villain, who was running -away because it was (adverbially) unsafe for him to -stay and risk his (past participled) neck among (adjective) -men. This is not the history of Captain Saxon; at -least, not all of it—from such a recital as that may the -eleven thousand virgins of Saint Mudie, and the Blessed -Young Person of Sixteen, deliver us! It must therefore -be enough to say that, for sufficient reasons, -he decided to shift his headquarters to the New -Hebrides, and immediately did so, leaving behind him -certain unsettled scores with which this tale has nothing -to do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was not new to the islands or the natives, having -been one of the most notorious of the sandal-wood traders -in years gone by. The sandal-wood was gone, and -of the money he had made by it not even the memory -remained. But there was still something in the labour -trade, and Saxon liked the lawless atmosphere of the -place.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti remembered the islands well, though she had -only been there as a child, and she was glad to have the -excitement of the change. When the recruiting boat -left the schooner (guarded by a companion, full of armed -men) and drew up on the beach to negotiate with the -islanders, she always sat in the stern, with a very smart -little Winchester rifle across her knees, and took -command, if her father was not there. Very often he was -not; for the New Hebrideans have long memories, -and there was many a spot where Saxon had run up -so many bad, black scores in the sandal-wood days that -he could not hope for success—or safety, if he had -minded that—in going ashore. Harris usually took -command of the covering boat, a post of comparative -security that suited him very well, while the dauntless -Vaiti managed all the real business, and seldom came -back with an empty bag.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had good luck, on the whole, and not many -narrow escapes. Coasting round the notorious island -of Mallicolo, or Malekula, they succeeded in obtaining -about forty natives in a week or two. Saxon was well -pleased, and began to count up his profits. Also he -began to drink again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then it was that trouble came, as trouble generally -does, out of a fair-seeming sky.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Half-a-dozen natives had been given up to the missionaries -on the far side of Malekula, to hand over to the -British gunboat </span><em class="italics">Alligator</em><span>, which at that time was -cruising about the islands, intent on punishing the -Malekulans for a more than usually atrocious murder of -whites. The tribes to whom the culprits belonged had -taken fright, and were anxious to save themselves at -any cost. The missionaries, when asked by them, -consented to take charge of the prisoners, but refused to -keep them any longer than could possibly be helped, -since they did not consider themselves judges or gaolers. -At this point the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> turned up, and the missionaries, -hearing she was bound for Parrot Harbour, where the -</span><em class="italics">Alligator</em><span> was certain to call, put the men on board, -and engaged Saxon to hand them over to the Parrot -Harbour mission, receiving from the missionaries there -the price of their passage, which the man-of-war would -doubtless refund.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Saxon, understanding that he had not to meet the -</span><em class="italics">Alligator</em><span>, undertook the job at a rather excessive rate, -and brought the prisoners over as agreed. But, finding -that the Parrot Harbour mission refused to pay the -passage money until the man-of-war arrived, he went -into a towering rage and abused everybody. Wait for -the </span><em class="italics">Alligator</em><span>? Not he! He had something else to -do, and he wouldn't have any condemned gunboat -that ever sailed the sanguinary waters of the Pacific -poking her nose into any of his business. He had been -promised the money as soon as he arrived, and the money -or its equivalent he meant to have or know the reason -why. Off he went, with much more whisky in his brain -than was compatible with sober judgment—off out to -sea again, taking with him the whole six prisoners, -and openly declaring his intention either to hold them -for ransom or run them down to the Queensland -plantations, as seemed most convenient.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next day the </span><em class="italics">Alligator</em><span> appeared, and her commander -was informed of the occurrence. Saxon, master of a -miserable labour schooner, had run off with prisoners -of war belonging to a British gunboat, defied the Imperial -Government, and offered open disrespect to the Crown! -The commander, an iron-faced, flinty-eyed disciplinarian -of the toughest school, and a first-class pepper-pot into -the bargain, nearly choked with rage and indignation. -Out went the </span><em class="italics">Alligator</em><span> again, full steam ahead, making -the captain's dainty suite of cabins tremble like an -ill-set jelly in the stern as the ship forged along at thirteen -knots an hour, blackening the crystal sky with trails -of smoke, and looking implacably about for the offending -</span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>. That delinquent of the high seas was farther -off than might have been supposed. The wind, though -light, was in her favour, and she had managed to get -round the far end of the island, and down the other side -to Coral Bay, eighty miles off, before the </span><em class="italics">Alligator</em><span> came -up with her, late in the afternoon. Once caught, her -shrift was short. The prisoners were at once transferred; -Saxon was arrested and taken, still half drunk, -on board the man-of-war, and his ship was confiscated, -"just to learn him," as Gray (who had viewed his -captain's proceedings with sour and silent disapproval -throughout) was heard to remark, not without a little -I-told-you-so satisfaction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so it came about that Vaiti, returning with -the boat from an unsuccessful recruiting expedition, -and not in the best of humours to begin with, -was met on her arrival with extremely unpleasant -news.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We're took, cap'n; we're took, ma'am!" shouted -Gray over the bulwarks, as the boat nosed along the -side of the schooner. He added a rapid account of -the calamity, in which he was careful to suppress his -personal feelings of triumph.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The smart young lieutenant who had been left in -charge of the ship came and looked down at the boat. -He wanted to know what sort of person it might be -who was addressed with this extraordinary hail. He -had been under the impression that the "captain" -of the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> had been left two hours ago—sullen, -swearing, and not at all sober—in the cells of -H.M.S. </span><em class="italics">Alligator</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What he saw was a red-painted boat, manned by four -stalwart native seamen, and steered by an extremely -handsome, olive-faced young woman, who looked up -at him with eyes that seemed to dart black lightning -under their beautifully drawn brows as she listened to the -boatswain's story. She wore a dainty, lacy white -muslin frock, and carried a Winchester rifle in her -lap.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Second Lieutenant Tempest, who had been cursing -his luck up to that moment, suddenly became reconciled -to the uninteresting job in which he was engaged. It is -just conceivable that his commander might have selected -another officer to perform the duty if he had been aware -of its possible alleviations; for Mr. Tempest was -notoriously given to scrapes with a </span><em class="italics">soupçon</em><span> of petticoat -in them, and had already imperilled his career more -than once after this fashion. But Commander the -Hon. Francis St. John Raleigh had not seen "Captain" -Vaiti; so he sent Mr. Tempest to take possession of the -</span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>, and slept the sleep of the well-conscienced and -well-dined, that evening, in his velvet armchair.... It -might have seemed somewhat less perfectly stuffed to -him, had his dreams been concerned with what was -happening a few hundred yards away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Tempest, smiling like the godmother beast of -his own ship, offered his hand to the sullen beauty as she -swung herself up the </span><em class="italics">Sybil's</em><span> side. Vaiti tossed it -indignantly away, favoured him with another black-lightning -glance that reduced his susceptible sailor -heart to pulp, and stalked aft like an offended Cleopatra. -Tempest, persistently following, poured out explanations, -apologies, smiles, consolations, promises. Vaiti -began to think that civility might possibly avail her -something, and began to melt by carefully calculated -degrees. Before very long she was sitting on the main -hatch, with Tempest beside her, holding her hand -unreproved and continuing his consolations. The -commander was very angry, no doubt, but he was a -good sort at bottom, and perhaps he would not really -seize the ship. She would be sent to Fiji, no doubt, -and Saxon might possibly be imprisoned, but it would -all come out all right, trust him! And he would -take very good care of the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> and her charming -"captain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti, still smiling sweetly, dug her nails into wood -of the hatch at her side. Underneath all this verbiage -she foresaw the reality of serious trouble. Why had -her father been such a fool? What could be done to -save the ship? There seemed no way of helping Saxon -himself. If the commander proved implacable, to -prison he must go. Well, that would not break any -bones; but the loss of the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>—if such a disaster was -indeed possible—must be averted at any cost. She did -not believe Mr. Tempest's smiling assertion. The -commander had threatened to confiscate the ship, and -most probably he would. At any rate, the risk was -too great to face. The schooner must not be taken to Fiji.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The wily brain was hard at work, as she sat on the -hatch, listening, with a gentle smile and soft, downcast, -maidenly eyes, to Tempest's love-making, and answering -now and then in her pretty Polynesian "pigeon-English"—so -much simpler and less grotesque than the </span><em class="italics">bêche-de-mer</em><span> -talk of the Melanesian Islands.... If he could be -got out of the way, and the marines suddenly -overpowered, the schooner might slip off round the corner -of the headland in the dark, and get nearly a hundred -miles away before daylight, with the steady wind that -was blowing outside the glassy, landlocked harbour of -Coral Bay. There was just enough air stirring at this -farthest point to allow her to get out, and once off, she -could show her heels in a way that would astonish -even a British gunboat. Of course, the latter would -easily overhaul her in an open chase, but Vaiti did not -propose any such folly. There was many a perilous -inlet and passage among those dangerous, ill-surveyed -islands where the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> could safely go, but where the -</span><em class="italics">Alligator</em><span> could not venture. Let them only gain a day, -and who was to say whither they had flown into the -wide wastes of the Pacific? Once beyond pursuit, -paint and other disguises would so alter the ship that -no one could identify her; her name could be changed, -and the </span><em class="italics">Mary Ann</em><span> or the </span><em class="italics">Nautilus</em><span> would innocently -sail the seas formerly polluted by the presence -of the naughty </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>.... It was certainly worth -trying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for Tempest, she had a plan concocted to get rid -of him almost as soon as the matter entered her mind. -She left him, by and by, solacing himself with fresh -turtle steak and excellent champagne in the cabin for -the loss of his own dinner, while she went into the bows -with Harris and Gray, and rapidly explained her plans. -The marines had been accommodated with eatables -and drinkables after their own hearts, on the cover of the -main hatch, and were too much engaged to notice -anything in the thick darkness that was now lying -heavily on Coral Bay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti's plan was simple and effective. Tempest was -to be enticed into leaving his duty and going ashore—she -would see to that. Four of the New Hebridean -crew, stripped of their ship clothes, and attired in their -aboriginal paint and plumes, were to be concealed on -the beach. They would capture him, and carry him -off to a bush village near the coast, where the people -were not ill disposed to the whites, and leave him there, -scared no doubt, but safe until the morning, when he -would be let go. Vaiti would come back to the ship as -soon as the capture was effected, and the four native -sailors would hurry down from the village as quickly -as possible. Meantime, it would be easy for Harris -to drug the marines' drink and make them helpless. -They would be set adrift in one of the boats, as soon as -the schooner was clear of the land, so that they should -tell no tales. With good luck, everything should be -over, and the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> far out to sea, in less than a couple -of hours.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Of the disgrace of Lieutenant Tempest—of his temptation, -his struggle, and his fall—there is no need to tell -at length. The decline of a British officer from duty -and honour—his desertion of a post which every -professional instinct should have compelled him to keep -is not a happy subject, as (fortunately) it is not a common -one. Vaiti, in brief, invited the officer to leave the ship -unguarded, and slip ashore with her, to sup at a -neighbouring trader's shanty, where she said there would be -drink and dancing, and every kind of fun. There was -no such place, but Tempest did not know that; and if -he had known, he might not have cared. Half-crazed -with love and champagne, he thought only of the beautiful -half-caste girl, and was ready to follow her to the -mouth of hell, if she had asked him. The dinghy was -got out softly and cautiously, and, with muffled oars, -they slipped away unheard. So far out of his mind -was the lieutenant that he did not even note the -disappearance of his men, who were all lying, very ably and -completely Shanghai'ed, in the hold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In less than half an hour Vaiti came back, swimming -the stretch of black water that lay between the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> -and the shore, to leave the boat ready for the men. -Dripping, sparkling, and laughing, she stood up in the -dim light of the deck lantern and told the mate and -boatswain how the capture had been managed. Tempest, -with a sack over his head and his hands and feet bound -to a pole, was at that moment being carried up in the -dark to the bush village. The inhabitants of the place -were to have ten pounds' worth of trade goods promised -them to keep him there all night and let him escape -in the morning, when they themselves would go off -and hide in the impenetrable forests until the man-of-war -had sailed away again. In half an hour or so the -four natives would be back on board, and they would -all sail away round the headland, and leave no evidence -of any kind to connect the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> with this last -unpardonable outrage; for Tempest could not but suppose that -the natives who so neatly bagged him as he was philandering -along the dark beach with the innocent Vaiti were -ordinary hill tribesmen. And, in any case, his sacred -person would be taken good care of.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then he ain't to be damaged, the little darlin'?" -inquired Harris. The question was not an idle one. -Every one on board the schooner knew that Vaiti was -capable of ugly things at her worst.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl laughed—a low, gurgling laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. No kill him, no hurt him. I not like," she -said, tossing back her wet, wavy hair, with a coquettish -gesture that told Harris the woman in Vaiti was fully -awake that night, despite the rough and ready adventure -on which she was engaged. Harris was no fool, if he -was something unsteady in character, and more or less -he admired Vaiti himself, which tended to sharpen his -sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good job the dandy leftenant </span><em class="italics">is</em><span> out of the way," -he growled as Vaiti disappeared into the cabin to -change. "'Twouldn't take much for 'er to get fancyin' -his silly face, after all, and then the fat would be in the -fire."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, if you hask me, I don't like none of the 'ole -thing from beginnin' to hend," declared the bo'sun, -jamming a wad of tobacco viciously into his pipe. "Not -the keepin' of the bloomin' niggers, not again runnin' -to Coral Bay, nor again this business. Wy? Because -I don't, and because it make me smell dirty weather. -Give us a light."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Overhead the stars in the velvet sky began to twinkle -here and there as the breeze rose and the clouds melted -away. An odour of hot, wet jungle drifted out across -the bay from the invisible land, and a locust with a -rattle exactly like a policeman's whistle burred loudly -among the trees. It might have been half an hour, and it -might have been more, before something else became -audible—something that sounded like a frightened -wailing on the shore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A—wé! A—a—wé!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti came out of her cabin and stood on deck, -listening intently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sound went on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A—wé! A—wé! A—wa—wé!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Harris, watching Vaiti's face in the light of the -lantern, saw it change and harden, but she said nothing. -There was another sound now—a dinghy shoving off -from the beach and the rattle of carelessly handled oars.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the —— fools makin' such a —— row -for?" asked Gray. "They'll 'ave the </span><em class="italics">Halligator</em><span> on -to us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Still Vaiti said nothing, but stood like a statue on -the deck, listening and looking into the darkness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The boat rammed the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> in another minute with a -shock that made her quiver, and then drifted aimlessly -along her sides. Three brown naked figures lifted up -their arms from below, and cried despairingly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Kapitani! Kapitani! A—wé! A—wé!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Get those fellows on board, too much quick, and -bring him cabin," ordered Vaiti. Harris and Gray -hauled them in with small ceremony, and dumped them -down the companion into the cabin, where they stood -in the light of the lamp, painted, feather-bedecked -creatures, fierce enough in appearance, but in reality -abjectly frightened and a-shiver.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What thing you been do?" demanded Vaiti sharply. -"Where you make other sailor-man? What you do -Tempesi?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One of the men was beginning his wail again. She -seized him by the shoulder, pulled a pistol from among -her draperies, and shook it in his face. The man, -with a yell of terror, twisted himself out of her hold. -Harris, who was rather frightened at her demeanour, -got him away, forced a dram of spirits into his mouth, -and tried to extract the terrified creature's story from -him by degrees.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-fate-of-the-lieutenant"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE FATE OF THE LIEUTENANT</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was not a gratifying tale. Half a mile from the beach, -the captors had been overtaken by a party of wild -hillmen from Ranaar, one of the worst of the inland -cannibal towns, and had been set upon fiercely in the -dark. Aki, one of their own party, had been clubbed, -and his body carried off. The other natives had escaped. -As for the lieutenant, the Ranaar men had seized on -him with cries of joy, exclaiming that now indeed they -had a chance of "making themselves strong" before all -Malekula. Then they had carried him away, slung -on a pole between two men, and the </span><em class="italics">Sybil's</em><span> people, -half dead with fright, had run down to the beach again; -and here they were, begging the Kapitani to have mercy -on them, for indeed it was not their fault, and no one -could have known that the Ranaar men would venture -so near the coast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti, Harris, and Gray all looked grave at this -recital. They knew only too well what was implied -by the phrase "making strong," and what virtues -the hill tribes of Malekula ascribed to the eating of -white man's flesh. The rude play of the capture had -turned into most serious earnest, and Tempest's life -was worth just so many hours as it might take the -cannibals to reach their mountain stronghold and go -through the preliminary ceremonies of the feast. No more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was silence for a minute or two, while the -schooner rolled gently on the swell of the incoming -tide, and the smoky kerosene light flickered to and fro -upon the strange, wild scene: Vaiti's beautiful, angry -head standing out above the weather-beaten faces of -the two English sailors, the three naked New Hebrideans, -squalid and monkey-faced, cowering before her; the -remnants of Tempest's dinner, some one's greasy pack -of cards, and a couple of Saxon's empty whisky bottles -decorating the table. The natives were badly frightened -still. They did not understand that the Kapitani's -plans had been entangled beyond all hope of setting -right by this disaster, or that the </span><em class="italics">Alligator</em><span> must have -been alarmed by their noisy return; but Vaiti's -countenance was enough to warn any one who had ever seen -the unpleasant things that happened at times on board -the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> that hurricane weather was ahead. But -before she had time to speak again, a loud hail from -outside made every one look towards the deck. In -another moment the first lieutenant of the </span><em class="italics">Alligator</em><span> -had framed his smart white and gold personality in the -dark oblong of the companion, and demanded, loudly, -and authoritatively, to know where Mr. Tempest was, -where the marines were, and what the deuce was the -meaning of all this.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti, motioning aside the mate and bo'sun, swept -to the front and spoke straight out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All your sailor, he too much drunk, sleep 'long hold. -Tempesi, he been go shore. Men belong Ranaar, they -catch him, take him away. Pretty dam quick they eat him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Great Scott!" said the officer. Facts were falling -very thick and fast, and there were evidently more -facts behind them which for the present he felt -obliged—most reluctantly—to neglect. People think quickly -in the navy, and Lieutenant Darcy realised instantly -that this strange, wild, handsome creature was speaking -the truth, and that it must be acted on without delay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stepped out on deck, and gave certain orders to -his men. A sharp little midshipman and half the boat's -crew followed him on board, and planted themselves -about the ship. The rest remained in the boat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This officer will stay here and take charge, and you -will come with me to the </span><em class="italics">Alligator</em><span>," said the lieutenant, -addressing Vaiti.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I speak captain. Very good you let me see -him quick," said the girl imperiously; and the -lieutenant, guessing that there was more still to be told, -hurried the boat away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He delivered his report to the commander, and -concluded by saying that the girl was in waiting, and had, -in his opinion, something more to say about the matter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bring her in," said the commander shortly. The -gravity of the affair had darkened his face a trifle, but -he made no comment. It was not a time for talk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti entered with the light step and carriage of the -woman who wears neither shoes nor stays, and stood -silently before the commander, fixing his hard grey -eyes with her inscrutable dark stare.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can sit down," said the officer. "I want to -ask you some questions."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti drew herself up a little higher.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No time for sit," she said curtly. "Suppose you -no want Tempesi ki-ki [eaten] pretty quick, you listen me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Young woman!" began Commander the Hon. Francis -St. John Raleigh sternly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I tell you, no time talk!" interrupted Vaiti. "I -savvy all right you very big sea-chief; I savvy my -father been made bad work, made bad work myself. -Let him go all-a-same that; by-'n-by we talk those -thing. Now you listen me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right; sit down," said the officer in a more -conciliatory tone. Vaiti sat, and leaning across the -table with her chin in one slender hand, and her eyes -blazing out from under the mass of damp waves on her -forehead, she said her say.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You no savvy Malekula man; I savvy plenty. -Suppose you do what I telling you, Tempesi he come -back, I think. Suppose not, Tempesi he eat. Ranaar, -he ten, eleven mile up 'long bush, plenty bad way. -You take some sailor; he go too much sof', too much -quiet, all-a-same cat. Time we coming along Ranaar, -one half-mile, sailor he all stop. I go myself Ranaar. -Maybe I get Tempesi; we coming back to sailor, go -home all right."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, nonsense! how are you going to get him, if -the men can't?" demanded the commander. He -saw that he had a remarkable personality to deal with -in this strange half-caste beauty, but he did not -comprehend her very clearly, and he thought she was -"gassing" a little.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti frowned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I tell you, you no savvy Malekula," she said scornfully. -"Sailor belong you, all the man hear him when -he walk 'long bush. Ranaar man he hear; he run away."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, so long as we rescue Mr. Tempest——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No you talk, I say; you listen, you Kapitani with -um wooden face!" spat Vaiti.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The lieutenant turned his head away, and choked a -little in his pocket-handkerchief. The commander -stared, then burst out laughing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go on, you she-cat," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ranaar man he run away; very good. He leave -Tempesi; very good. No want Tempesi tell some tale, -so he leave him dead. Break him head, all same pig, -very quick, then run away. Now what you think?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think you are a very plucky young lady, and that -you have something more to say about it," replied the -commander politely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good. Suppose I going 'long bush; savvy -plenty the way. I been 'long Ranaar recruit; savvy -all-a-road. No walking all same white man, walking -all same one snake, all same one mice. No white man -he walk that way. I come up Ranaar, all-a-dark, -I stop 'long one small place; see the man he dance, he -sing, he make ki-ki. Bushman, he plenty frighten -something he no savvy. Savvy gun, dynamite, but -no savvy big blue-light signal thing you got 'long ship. -I take one, two blue-light thing; I throw. Bushman -he think one big devil stop, no think man-of-war come; -run away too much dam quick, not stop kill Tempesi. -By'n-by he coming back, but I cut rope before he come. -I bring Tempesi 'long me, 'long sailor-man; we go back -quick. Tempesi all right. Savvy?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I do savvy; seems a neat plan, on the whole. -But what's going to happen to you if they catch you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eat," said Vaiti succinctly. "Now you listen me. -I no do all this thing for nothing, see?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"H'm; yes, I do see. How much do you want?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Two thing," said Vaiti, eyeing him narrowly. -"One. My father say he plenty sorry, no do any more -bad thing. You let him go, let schooner go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well—yes, I'll promise that," answered the -commander rather stiffly. The girl was taking her life in -her hand to serve the interests of the British Crown, -and it was not a time to stick at trifles, or, indeed, -larger things.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Two," went on Vaiti. "Tempesi he seen leave -ship, go 'long shore with me. You tell him all right, -you no punish."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, by Jove! that's too much," snapped out the -commander. "No, Miss—Miss What's-your-name, I -can't promise any such thing. I can't have you or -any one else interfering with the discipline of my ship. -Mr. Tempest's conduct is a very serious matter, and -he must take the consequences, by Gad he must, if he -comes back alive to take them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti had had a good deal to do with men-of-war, -and their officers, during the course of the schooner's -many wanderings. She did not need to be told that -Tempest's career might be ended, and his life disgraced, -if naval justice took its course. A few hours ago she -would not have cared. But Mr. Tempest, like all men -notorious for getting into scrapes with a petticoat at -the bottom of them, had a "way with him," and it -happened to be a way that appealed to this daughter -of the Islands more than she would have cared to allow. -Besides, it was not her custom to give in to a defeat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right," she said calmly. "I savvy all thing -about Englis' officer. Tempesi he no like court-mars'al, -make break, make longshoreman, all the people laugh. -Tempesi, he like die, I think. All right. I let him. -Good night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The commander held out his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good night," he said politely. "Mr. Darcy, you will -see about getting a native guide who can show the way to -Ranaar, at once. We will do our best to surprise them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A low, sarcastic laugh came from Vaiti.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You wooden-faced Kapitani, you think you savvy -Malekula!" she said. "Where you get guide?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Darcy did know a little about the New Hebrides, -and he saw that they were beaten.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She's right, sir," he said. "Take my word for it, -no native would dare to guide you. There's no mission -here; they're a very bad lot, and all at war."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a bitter moment for the commander, but he -surrendered like a gentleman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've got the best of me, Miss—Miss Saxon," -he said. "Very well. You have my promise. -Mr. Tempest shall be pardoned, if we get him back alive. -You know nothing about this matter, you will remember, -Mr. Darcy. Miss Saxon, you're a very brave young -lady, and I wish I had met you in circumstances of -which I could more honestly approve."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No one need tell me," he said afterwards, "that -that old vagabond we had in the cells wasn't a gentleman -once. It comes out in the girl; blood will tell, even in -a half-caste. But Providence ought rightly to have -a down on the man who is responsible for any one of -them, for there seems no right place for them, either in -heaven or earth."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Neither the bluejackets of the </span><em class="italics">Alligator</em><span>, nor the -officer appointed to command the column, ever forgot -that night's march through the mountain bush of -Malekula. The air was like hot water, and not a breath -of wind was stirring. The track was but a few inches -wide, and as slippery as butter, so that the men slid -and fell continually when struggling up the endless -sides of the innumerable gullies. Mosquitoes settled in -bloodthirsty hordes upon their faces and hands, roots -tripped them up, saw-edged reeds slapped them in the -eyes, and thorny tangles of bush-lawyers fished for and -successfully hooked them. At any moment a huge -soft-nosed bullet, cruel as a shell, might come singing -out of the darkness; or a poisoned arrow, freighted with -sure and agonising death, might whirr across their -path. When the officer in command, irritated by the -stumbling and falling of the men, ordered them to -remove their boots and march barefoot, Vaiti told him -that nothing of the kind must be done, for poisoned -spear-heads were in all probability set here and there -in unsuspected places, ready to pierce the unwary foot. -She herself seemed invulnerable and untiring; she led -the column at a pace that caused more than one to fall -out, and never hesitated nor faltered through all the -three hours of the worst and most intricate march that -the </span><em class="italics">Alligator</em><span> men had ever known.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last she told the officer to call a halt, and on no -account to make the slightest noise or advance his men -until he should see a blue light burning about half a mile -ahead. Then she vanished into the darkness, lithe and -noiseless as a lizard, and silence, dead and oppressive, -settled down upon the bush.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Lieutenant Tempest was a man and a British sailor, -and he was not afraid of death. But he thought there -might be pleasanter ways of dying than that which -actually stared him in the face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Memory plays strange tricks when the dark is closing -down about her doors. Lying there on the damp -earth, bound hand and foot to a pole, with the hideous -howls of the cannibal dancers in his ears and the glare -of the cooking-pits in his eyes. Tempest could think of -nothing but a fragment of verse out of a half-forgotten -poem read somewhere long ago:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<!-- --> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"It isn't the fact that you're dead that counts.</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>But only—how did you die?"</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>How was he dying? Not as an English officer might -gladly die in the cause of his country and in loyal -obedience to orders. Not even as a man, with a sword -in his hand, facing the foe. He was dying an unfaithful -servant, false to his trust, and suffering because of -that falseness, as a slaughtered brute struck down with -a club like a bullock, and afterwards....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The red remains of the luckless Aki, jointed and piled -in a ghastly heap, told the rest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tempest did not look at that ugly pile any more than -he could help. He wanted all the nerve he could muster -for he was haunted by a deadly fear that he might cry -out for mercy when it came to the last, and he did not -want to add cowardice to the tale of his many -shortcomings. If he could have died here as a prisoner of -war—as a captured scout, a fighting enemy, taken in a -skirmish—the death, hideous as it was, would have -been honourable, and his pride of country would have -upheld him. But it seemed as if his courage had -nothing to stand on now, and he was almost—almost, but, -thank God! not quite—afraid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Malekulans had been dancing for full two hours, -ever since they had brought him to the valley and flung -him down upon the ground. In the middle of the open -village square were three huge idols, carved out of -entire tree-trunks set upright. They had black, empty -sockets for eyes; their mouths were curved upwards into -a ghastly wrinkled grin, and their tongues hung -mockingly out. On the head of each was perched a huge -black wooden bird, with beak bent down and gloomy -wings outspread—the very spirit of Nightmare herself. -Round and round these devilish things, in the red glow -of the fires, danced the cannibals ceaselessly and -untiringly, fleeing with heads down and outspread hands, -wheeling and turning, circling with measured steps; and -all the time the huge hollow idols, beaten with heavy -clubs "to make the spirits speak," thundered death -and doom. It was plainly a religious ceremony which -must be fully enacted down to the last detail; but -Tempest thought, as clearly as he could think in such a -place and at such a time, that it could not last much -longer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A fellow ought to say his prayers," he thought; -but the thunder of the drums and the wild, shrieking -song of the dancers bewildered him, and his swollen -wrists and ankles hurt him so much as almost to confuse -his mind.... What could he say? Only one prayer -remained clear in the turmoil of his brain—just the -old, old prayer that he had prayed at his mother's -knee. Well, it would serve—and up above he hoped -they'd understand how sorry he was ... for lots of -things....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Our Father Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy -name. Thy kingdom come...."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was coming, indeed! The dance had stopped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thy will be done...."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What came next? He could not remember—and -the savages were advancing across the square.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Forgive us our trespasses ... and lead us not into -temptation, but deliver us from evil...."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was </span><em class="italics">now</em><span>! The women were hiding themselves in -the houses, and two of the men, armed with clubs, were -stepping forward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was only conscious of one feeling—joy that he -had the courage to look the cannibals in the face as -they advanced, and meet his fate "game." He hardly -knew that he was still praying—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"... For Thine is the kingdom, the power, and -the glory...."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Death!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It came with a blaze of light—a sound as of a wild, -deep shout and the rushing of many waters—then——</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Was this the end? Was it indeed death? He had -felt nothing—but a man does not feel the blow that -kills—and his eyes were so dazzled with a strange, blue -glory that he could not see.... The rushing sound -continued; it was like the thunder of hundreds of -flying feet.... The light burst forth again, and yet -again, and then died away, and there was a great -silence. Tempest saw the hideous faces of the idols -standing out in the empty square, and began to -understand. He was not dead—but something had -happened. What was it? He tried to break loose and sit -up so as to see all round.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stop um little bit," said a voice, and some one drew -a sharp knife across the lashings that bound his limbs, -and lifted him into a sitting position.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The blinding light had almost died away now, and he -could see the whole square. There was no one in it. -The cannibals were gone, and the beautiful half-caste -girl who had brought about his downfall—innocently, -as Tempest of course supposed—was squatting beside -him and putting a flask to his lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Drink a little bit whisky," she said. "Good -whisky; he make strong. No good stop here, you -Belitani sailor-man; more better we go away too much -quick."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The spirit cleared Tempest's head and put some life -into his limbs. Vaiti poked him unceremoniously in -the ribs as soon as she saw that he was reviving.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Show um leg there, lively!" she ordered, dragging -him by the arms. Rather to his surprise, Tempest found -that he could walk, once on his feet. He wasted no -time in getting away, after Vaiti's brief explanation -of the blue-light stratagem, and the probable return of -his enemies before very long. At something as near a -run as his cramped limbs would allow, he followed -her down the pathway that led away from the village—narrow, -wet, and dark as a wolf's gullet—and into the -comparative security of the bush, towards the advancing -relief column from the </span><em class="italics">Alligator</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It would have been no more than fitting if Vaiti, -like a true heroine of romance, had vanished silently -into the forest when they encountered the man-of-war's -men, leaving Tempest to "turn to thank his preserver," -and "find that she had disappeared." But Vaiti, -as it happened, was born under the Southern Cross, -where the poetry of the footlights does not flourish. -So she gave the men her company on the way down -as a matter of course, asked the officer in command for a -cigar, smoked it and accepted half a dozen more out -of his case, and made herself wonderfully pleasant—for -Vaiti. She had further driven Tempest to distraction -by starting a flirtation with a handsome petty -officer, eaten up two emergency rations, "borrowed" -some one's gold tie-pin, and very soundly boxed the -ears of a leading seaman who tried to kiss her in the -dark, before the long roll of the surf on the barrier reef, -and the welcome glimmer of the </span><em class="italics">Alligator's</em><span> riding lights, -told the tired-out party that they were safe back again. -Then, like the mysterious heroine, at last she disappeared, -and slipped off to the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> in a native canoe, for the -reason that she did not want to be seen on board the -man-of-war in a very untidy and dirty dress, without -any flowers in her hair, or fresh scent on her laces. -Tempest had found time to "thank his preserver" on -the way down, haltingly enough; but the preserver, -instead of accepting his thanks after the fashion he -would have preferred, had laughed wildly and somewhat -wickedly, and gone on walking right in the middle of -the column, without a glance to spare for him.... -Still—he thought he knew women—and.... Time -would show.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The rest of the wardroom did not envy Mr. Tempest -his interview with the commander. It took place -immediately after his return to the ship, and he came -out from it with a countenance of entire inexpressiveness -and extreme whiteness. One sentence—the last—was -unavoidably heard by the lieutenant who followed -immediately after Tempest, to deliver his report.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Finally, Mr. Tempest—this Miss—a—Saxon—has -risked her life to save your life and reputation. I think -there is only one way in which you can repay her—by -never seeing her again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tempest's answer was inaudible. But—he never did.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="invaders-in-tanna"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">INVADERS IN TANNA</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"What a beautiful girl! Is she one of the heathens, -I wonder?" said Lady Victoria Jenkins, leaning on the -rail of her yacht.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Alcyone</em><span> floated on a sea of living silver. The -coral reefs forty feet before her keel showed like a -pavement of pale turquoise in the searching splendour -of the tropic moon. Close at hand loomed the dark -woods and cliffs of Tanna, and above them, blotting out -half the crystal broidery of the stars, rose the cone of -the great volcano, crowned by a canopy of fire. So, in -the days of Bougainville and of Cook, stood this -southward sentinel of the wild New Hebrides, a pillar of -cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. So it stands -yet, its deathless fires unquenched, its awful voice -breaking the forest silences hour by hour—as the dead -and gone discoverers of these distant lands saw and -heard it long ago, and as those who follow us will find -it in the days to come, when we and our thoughts and -hopes, and adventures and loves are but a whisper in the -homeless winds and a handful of dust blowing about -on long-forgotten graves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There are few volcanoes in the southern hemisphere -more famous, and none less frequently visited, than -the fiery cone of Tanna. The island lies thousands of -miles away from everywhere, and the inhabitants are -known to be almost all heathen, cannibal, and hostile -to whites, although the expression of their hostility -has been kept considerably in check of late years. But -Lady Victoria Jenkins, daughter of the late Earl of -Wessex, and wife of Mr. Abel Jenkins ("Jenkins's -Perfect Pills"), is well known as a romanticist and a -lover of all things unusual and strange. Mr. Abel -Jenkins's income is only exceeded by that of two other -commoners in England, and Mr. Abel Jenkins's ugliness -and ill-temper are not exceeded by the ugliness and -ill-temper of any one known to polite society. If the -reader will piece these detached facts together, and -consider them, he will readily understand why Lady -Victoria was enjoying a tour round the world in her -celebrated steam-yacht, the </span><em class="italics">Alcyone</em><span>, why she had -come to look at Tanna, and why, including a good deal -of miscellaneous company, the travelling party somehow -was not miscellaneous enough to include Lady Victoria's -husband.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The yacht had come in that afternoon after a -somewhat stormy voyage from Sydney ("They call it the -Pacific Ocean," said Lady Victoria plaintively, "instead -of which, I have not really enjoyed a meal since we -cleared the Heads"), and had instantly, by the mere -fact of her dropping anchor in Sulphur Bay, denuded -the whole seaboard of its population. This was because -the conscience of Tanna is never quite clear, and the -Tannese, struck by the conviction of sin, thought the -</span><em class="italics">Alcyone</em><span> was a man-of-war. Only two kinds of ships -were known to the islands, outside trading schooners: -British and French warships, and the lazy little monthly -steamers from Sydney, which strolled round the group -once a month, picking up copra, and conveying missionaries -and traders about. The </span><em class="italics">Alcyone</em><span> was not a schooner; -she was certainly not the well-known "B.P." steamer; -therefore she must be some new variety of man-of-war. -As it happened, there was a little matter of a murdered -trader on the conscience of Tanna just at that time—he -had been very annoying, but a British man-of-war -is prejudiced about these affairs. So the Tannese of -the coast, like the modest violet of the poem, concealed -their drooping heads in the shady vales of the interior, -and coyly hid from view. Like the modest violet, -too—only with a difference—you might, if you wished, -have located them by their—— But no; this is a -polite history, and the Tannese are a very impolite -people. Let us change carriages.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti and her father, who had come up from Queensland -with an empty ship and a full money-bag, and -were just starting a fresh recruiting trip, regarded the -appearance of the yacht with hearty disgust. What -were the good old islands coming to if this sort of thing -was to be permitted? Not a bushman would come -near the beach as long as the </span><em class="italics">Alcyone</em><span> stayed, and the -sprinkling of mission natives who were not afraid of -the yacht were worse than useless, for they neither -recruited nor encouraged their heathen friends to do so. -Besides, the airs and graces of the </span><em class="italics">Alcyone</em><span> were sickening. -Late dinner with low dresses and jewels; piano tinkling -all the evening; clothes that looked as if they had been -run hot on to the wearers, as icing is run on to a cake; -sparkling glass and brasswork all over the ship, and -dainty brass signal cannons, pretty as toys, and a little -funnel all cream-colour and blue, and great sails white -as trade-wind clouds, and a hull that sat the water like -a beautiful sea-bird settled down to rest—all these -unnecessary and disgusting affectations made a smart -schooner like the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> look no better than a mud-scow -in a marsh, for all that she was the beauty of the South -Seas and the most famous ocean adventuress from -'Frisco to Hobart Town. Besides, Saxon would not -stir out of his cabin while the yacht was there, having -developed the lumbago that always attacked him -whenever English society folk loomed on the horizon—Vaiti -knew that lumbago!—and he might really have -been of use about Sulphur Bay, where, for a wonder, no -one had any old scores against him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was all most abominable, thought the "Kapitani," -and she cast an unfriendly glance on the luxurious -</span><em class="italics">Alcyone</em><span>, as her boat shot past the yacht in the moonlight, -returning from a fruitless hunt along the coast for any -stray bushman who might have heard the recruiting -signal—a stick or two of dynamite set afloat on a board -and exploded—and come down to the coast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Victoria's comment on the "beautiful girl" -did not soften her in the least, coupled as it was with -the unspeakable assumption that she was "a heathen." Probably -she was, in one sense, having long ago given -up all but the merest rags of religion, but it was not the -accusation of moral deficiencies that galled her: it -was the idea that she, Vaiti, daughter of a great -Polynesian princess and a white sea-captain, should have -been "evened" to the black, monkey-like, naked hags -of Tanna. The resentful spirit of the half-caste burned -hot within her as she steered the boat through the moonlit -water. She could see Lady Victoria and her friends, a -brilliant flower-show of coloured dresses and sparkling -gems, leaning over the rail, and watching her as -impersonally as if she were a porpoise or a shark. She -could catch their comments, loudly and carelessly -spoken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose she is one of them. But she looks quite -nice. See her pretty dress. She is quite decently -clothed, isn't she?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wonder is she a cannibal? She does not look -dangerous. I would like to ask her on board, and give -her some tea and cake, and things of that kind, and talk -to her. Just to try and reform her from their own -horrible food, you know," said Lady Victoria angelically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That would be so dear of you," chimed in her special -sycophant and foil, a plain and elderly young woman -who knew when her bread was buttered on both sides, -and why.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But here the rowers—urged by a signal from Vaiti -who thought she had heard about as much as she could -stand without exploding—gave way vigorously, and -pulled the boat out of earshot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was not a happy evening for any one on board -the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>. Vaiti would not give out any grog for supper -though it was a settled custom on the ship; would not -have singing in the cabin, gloomed like a hurricane sky -over the mate and boatswain's sociable game of cards -until Gray, out of pure nervousness, dropped a greasy -ace upon his knee, and was thereupon accused by Harris -of cheating, and coarsely threatened by him with an -operation usually confined to sufferers from appendicitis. -At this Vaiti rose and walked out of the cabin with the -air of a convent-bred princess who had never so much as -heard a jibbing donkey "confounded"; and went to sit -on deck near the wheel, where she stayed so long, smoking -so many thin black cigars, that every one but the night -watchman turned in and left her, and only the dead, -dark hour of two o'clock, when the spongy heat of the -island night stiffens for a while into fever-bringing chill, -shook her out of her sulks and into her cabin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Vaiti sulked it was usually observed that things -happened before very long. But on this occasion the -exception seemed to rule. The disgusting yacht stayed -all the next day, and the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> lay quietly at anchor on -the other side of the bay. Some of the yacht people -went ashore in the afternoon, and roamed timorously -about the beach, wondering at the hot springs and tasting -everything in the way of fruit they happened to see. -(It was nearly all inedible, but none of it, by a fortunate -chance, happened to be poisonous.) Lady Victoria was -disappointed with her day on the whole. The natives -from the mission, who had officiously attended them all -day long, were unromantically clothed, clean, and -English-speaking. The wild savages did not appear; -and there were one or two other mishaps of an entirely -unromantic kind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How did you enjoy it, darling?" asked the plain -young woman of Lady Victoria, when the daring -pioneers returned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Jenkins's partner shook out her soiled tussore -silk disgustedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was untidy and ugly and nasty," she declared; -"and when I sat down under a great pineapple tree all -covered with fruit, and said that I was realising one of -my dreams, Jack de Coverley laughed at me, and said it -was only a pandamn-us, or something else profane, and -that pineapples grew on the ground. And when we -started to walk among the palms, and I was saying that -I had always dreamed of wandering softly by a coral -strand and seeing the cocoanuts drop into my hands, -something as big as a horse's head suddenly thundered -down like a bombshell from a hundred feet high, and -buried itself in the sand at my feet with such a fearful -shock that I jumped a yard away and screamed like -anything! So then the missionary came out, and said -he wondered I wasn't killed; and if you'll believe me, -it was nothing but a horrible nut! And the coral -strand was pretty enough, all over little bits of branching -coral stuff; but why doesn't anyone ever tell you that -coral strands burn all the skin off your nose and blacken -you into a nigger? We're going up the volcano -tomorrow—the missionary says it's quite safe—and I'm -sure I hope it's true, but one never knows. Darling, -if I die, see that the new Lafayette photo is sent to the -papers—not on any account the other; and I like -Latin crosses on graves, I think; Carrara marble, very -thick, and just one short text, something nice, like -'They were lovely and pleasant in their lives'—you -know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>... "'And in death they were not divided,'" -finished the plain young woman with mechanical piety.... -"Darling! dearest! what have I said? What is -the matter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now you </span><em class="italics">have</em><span> done it!" roared Mr. de Coverley, -who was rather a well-bred, but sometimes rather a -vulgar young man. "Not divided! Oh, great Scott! -Oh, my eye! Oh, I'll die of laughing! Hold me up! -Never mind, Vic; I'll see you aren't divided, or cooked -either—trust to me!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Vaiti was still in a speechless state of sulks when she -started off the next morning into the interior, to recruit -on her own account. It was not a very safe thing to -do, but the bushmen would not come down to the coast, -and the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> could not hang out indefinitely, since the -doubtful character of her methods had given the French -and English Commissioners of the islands a nasty habit -of asking questions about her. Saxon, who had -relinquished his lumbago to go off into the hills at a safe -distance from the yacht, wanted to make his daughter -accompany him; but Vaiti simply laughed at him, and -departed with a guide seduced from the mission towards -a village lying a mile or two above the volcano. She -preferred the glory of working on her own account, and -besides, it doubled the chances of recruits.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She knew the Tannese nature well, so she dressed -herself for her part in a robe of scarlet sateen, with -liberal necklaces of different coloured trade beads, and -stuck a couple of tomahawks in her sash, besides an -ornamented sheath-knife. Across her splendid young -bosom she slung an incongruous-looking bandolier of -cartridges, designed apparently for the slaughter of -elephants; and a smart magazine rifle, carried over her -shoulder, completed the outfit. All these valuables, -though designed to assist her plans by suggesting the -enormous store of desirable goods possessed by the -recruiters, were almost as likely to assist her to a sudden -and unprovided end, by reason of the natives' covetousness. -She took her chance of this, however; Vaiti was -used to taking chances. It is easier than most people -suppose to take the risk of being killed every day of your -life. In the strange places of the earth, where such -things are a common happening, men do not look upon -the inevitable end after the pursy, secretive, -never-mention-it fashion of Peckham and Brixton. Death is -just death in the earth's wild places—yours to-day, -mine to-morrow—a thing to walk with shoulder to -shoulder, to meet face to face at noonday; in any case, -to make no bones of it until it makes bones of you; and -after that circumstances will keep you from complaining -if you feel like it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a long, hot walk up to the village. A "walk" -is mostly a scramble about the uncleared New Hebrides, -where roads are mere foot-wide cracks and canyons in -the dense forest growth, and level ground apparently -does not exist. Besides, a bandolier of cartridges and -an assortment of small arms are rather heavy jewellery -for such a climate. Vaiti, however, possessed the -enviable gift of never looking, or apparently feeling, hot -or tired; and she swung along at an unvarying pace that -caused the unlawfully enticed mission native, who had -waxed fat and lazy, to regret his enticement and wish -himself back in the mission school writing copies, instead -of slaving up and down precipitous gullies in the rear of -a woman-devil who did not know what it was to want a -rest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At long last, however, the reedwork fence of the village -came in sight, and they entered the open square, shaded -by an immense banyan tree and surrounded by low, -ugly huts, all roof and no wall, like all the mountain -villages of Tanna. There were sentries perched up in -the trees outside the gate, and others squatted on the -ground at every entrance, their rifles ready in the crook -of the elbow. Within, the dusty tan-coloured square, -quivering under the pitiless fire of the white-hot sky, was -all alive with moving figures—ugly women in brief -grass skirts humped out into swaying bustles; young -boys with murderous little faces, and full-sized rifles; -wild-looking men, with thick hair twined into myriads -of tiny strings ending in a great bush on the shoulders, -stripes of scarlet paint on their faces, and no clothing save -their native impudence and a cartridge belt—all seething -about in a very bee-hive of excitement and alarm. As -for the rifle-barrels, they were bobbing about like -piano-jumpers all over the square, and every weapon was cocked -and loaded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti saw at a glance that they were expecting an -attack, and picking out a native who could speak English, -asked what the trouble was. The man replied that they -feared the little man-of-war down below, but that they -were entirely innocent. Questioned further, they said -naïvely that they had never eaten a white man, and that -none of them were low cannibals in any case. Vaiti, -who had not heard of this little affair before, saw her -chance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No good you speak alonga that fellow way," she -said, using the </span><em class="italics">bêche-de-mer</em><span> talk that some of the Tannese -understood; for Vaiti, like many half-castes, could -handle almost any dialect or corruption of a dialect, -though she could not speak decent English or French. -"I savvy plenty, you eatum one fellow white man. -By'n by, big fellow man-of-war come, shoot you all-a-same -one pig, all-a-same one blind box [flying fox], -burn altogether house belong you. Very good you -come alonga Saxon ship, go Queensland; then you all right."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No eatum," persisted the man (who was the professional -talking-man or orator of the village), with a -coy smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti's nose was keen, and she had already guessed -something by its aid. She marched straight across the -square into a little yam-house, and pointed to a small -parcel done up in green banana-leaf and tied with -cocoanut sinnet. Five toes and an instep protruded -from one end. The game had been well hung, as the -Tannaman likes it to be, and there was no mistaking the -fact of its presence in any sense.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The talking-man giggled like a school-girl caught -consuming surreptitious chocolates.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eatum jus' little-fellow bit," he allowed, with a -bad-child chuckle. The other men took up the laugh, -and the village resounded with a roar like the bellowing -of a herd of bulls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti, seeing her advantage, stepped out into the -square and began to talk, marching to and fro in Tannese -fashion as she spoke. The sun cast dancing spangles -on her many-coloured beads as she moved, and threw -back darts of fire from her heavy bandolier. One arm -emphasised her remarks with sweeping gesture; in the -other the tall rifle pounded the earth with its stock, -marking the points of her discourse. The fat, stolid -mission native watched her with staring eyes and open -mouth, and the chiefs gloomed at her under sullen -savage brows, evidently impressed, but restive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sum of her discourse was that they and their -women would do well to come down with her to the -schooner, recruit at once, and fly to a land of safety -where men-of-war never came, where Tanna people -reclined all day under the shade of banyan and banana, -picked a little cane for their employers occasionally, -lived upon tinned meat and sugared tea, and eventually -returned loaded with riches in the shape of rifles, -cartridges, cotton, and knives. There was a good deal -more of the same highly-coloured stuff. This was old -business to the people of the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The talking-man, also strutting backwards and -forwards, Tanna fashion, in a kind of continual country -dance with the glittering vision from the ship, answered -now and then. It was very well to talk about recruiting, -and perhaps some of them might go if they got lots of -tinned salmon and "bisketti" to eat before they went on -board, and promise of rifles to be paid the tribe when -the bargain was complete. But they did not believe -that the new ship was not a little man-of war, and until -she was gone they would not go down to the coast—no, -not even to bathe, although they had all decided to -have a bath soon, for the weather was hot and their -skins were like the bark of trees, and it was now about -ten moons since they had had their last bath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this Vaiti's eyes lit up, for she suddenly saw a plan, -a plan which might give her a score of recruits, drive -the objectionable yacht out of Sulphur Bay, and pay off -every rankling insult inflicted by the </span><em class="italics">Alcyone</em><span> and her -people. But the savages were watching her, so she -veiled her eyes with her long lashes, and replied -carelessly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All that very good. To-morrow, small-fellow -man-of-war he go 'way; then you coming longa schooner. -To-day, what name [why?] you no go wash big water -'long place one-fellow-fire stop? Very good place that. -Suppose you going, I come up from schooner, bring -plenty-plenty tucker. Plenty-plenty bulimacow [beef], -bisketti, tucker belong white man, cost ten rifle. All the -Tannaman he eat; by'n-by he stop lie down, he break, so -much he eat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This tempting picture had its effect, backed up by a -few presents of beads and cartridges. The Tannamen -agreed that the plain below the burning mountain, -where a wide, stagnant lake spread out its dull expanse, -would do for a bathing place, short of the impossible -shore, and they chuckled with joyous anticipation of -the feast. They also agreed, rather doubtfully, to -embark as soon as the "man-of-war" was gone; and it -seemed evident that a fair number would at least come -down and negotiate on board the schooner after which—well, -the </span><em class="italics">Sybil's</em><span> smart heels would do the rest.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-cannibal-party"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A CANNIBAL PARTY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Vaiti went off to get ready the feast, telling the natives -that they might follow her before long, as everything -would be ready soon; and they might trust her, the -great Kapitani, that it would be a feast such as no -Tannaman, not even of those who had served in -Queensland, had ever witnessed in his wildest dreams.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The mission native being a rather weak-kneed convert, -and anxious to enjoy a good heathen gossip with his old -companions, wanted very much to stay on in the village. -But that was just what Vaiti did not want, so she drove -him out in front of her like a fat and nervous sheep, -hastening his movements all the way down with -occasional reminders from the butt of her rifle. He had -given her certain information about a picnic at the foot -of the volcano, arranged by the people of the yacht for -that afternoon, and she did not want him to share his -news with the men of the village and cause them, perhaps, -to put two and two together where he himself had failed -to do so. She despatched him therefore to his own -town on the coast, and saw that he went, before herself -turning off in the direction of the track that led to the -volcano.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Near to the lake there lies a curious little valley with -a soft, clean flooring of black volcanic sand and sheltering -walls of green pandanus. Here, shaded from the burning -heat, yet close to the volcano plain, was the only possible -place for the picnickers to enjoy their meal. Beyond -lay only a lurid plateau of red and yellow lava beds, -curdled and coiled as they had flowed down from the -crater lip long ago; a desert of black ash and sand, -and a dark, wicked, smoking, rumbling cone in the -centre of all. Not a native would have climbed the -cone for all the goods in the </span><em class="italics">Sybil's</em><span> hold; it was the -mouth of hell, they said, and full of devils of every kind. -But they were not afraid of the valley below, within -safe limits, and even if they had been, the feast and the -bathe after it were attractive enough to conquer a little -nervousness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Vaiti had anticipated, there were several picnic -baskets stowed under a tree in the valley, and a big -wine hamper as well. Four mission natives, who had -acted as guides and carried up the provisions, were -lying on their stomachs in the shade, smoking and -talking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was essential to get them out of the way, and time -was short. Vaiti did not waste any unnecessary words. -She simply pointed her rifle at the men and told them to -clear. They cleared, howling, and she was left alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With quick, neat hands she unpacked the hampers, -spread the cloth, and laid out the food. It was a goodly -display—hams and tongues and fowls, cold meats, pies, -cakes, tarts, fruits, and tinned dainties of every kind. -There was plenty of champagne, also a supply of whisky -and soda. She set all the bottles in a row, and looked -with satisfaction upon the glittering array. Then she -went up to the edge of the plain and looked at the -crater. No one was yet in sight. The exploring -party at that moment were on the other side of the cone, -standing on the black lip of an appalling gulf eight -hundred feet deep and half a mile across; looking down, -awe-struck and amazed, upon colossal fire fountains that -uplifted their gory spray three hundred feet in the air, -and listening to the heart-shaking thunders of the -volcano's awful voice, as from time to time that terrifying -note of illimitable force and fury made the whole plain -tremble and echoed far out to sea.... It was indeed -no wonder that the ignorant Tannamen feared to ascend -the cone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti sat down at the edge of the plain, and watched -till she saw a number of many-coloured dots creeping -down the black pyramid in its centre. Then she suddenly -lay down upon the ashy ground, and writhed with silent -laughter. People were in the habit of saying that Vaiti -had no more sense of humour than the jibboom of her -father's ship. They might have modified that -judgment, could they have seen her now.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Lady Victoria Jenkins had enjoyed her morning -very much indeed. She had dressed for the ascent in -a mountaineering costume that combined equal -suggestions of "Carmen" and the Alpine Club, and gave -great opportunities to her ankles. She had been helped -up the cone by four devoted admirers, all at once, and -had come down it at a wild running slide, ably braked by -two strong hands of two or three others who wanted to -have their turn. The other women had trodden on their -skirts, and torn them, burned and cut their foolish boots, -and also got unbecomingly hot and out of breath, -because there was not nearly one man apiece to help them -up, after Lady Victoria had annexed all the best. It -must be allowed that the men were the weak point -of the </span><em class="italics">Alcyone's</em><span> travelling party. Mr. de Coverley and -his set were "dear boys" and charming companions, no -doubt, but they were not quite as manly as some of -the ladies. Lady Vic and her companions did not -attract the best sort of men, as a rule.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were all very hungry when they reached the -plain, and thirsty with a thirst unknown outside the -tropics. All the way across the baking black sand and -the tinkling lava beds, "one fair vision ever fled" before -the eyes of the party—vision of gold-necked champagne -bottles lying coolly embedded in icebaskets; of -topaz-coloured jellies, trembling on silver dishes; of flaky, -savoury pies, and delicate cold meats, and crisp green -salads concocted as only the hand of the </span><em class="italics">Alcyone's</em><span> </span><em class="italics">chef</em><span> -could concoct them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It seemed as if that plain would never end, but it did -end at last, and a green fringe of pandanus announced -the beginning of the bush. The elderly young lady and -most of the others were making excellent time ahead, -and they reached the verge of the plain some little while -before Lady Victoria and Mr. de Coverley came to it. -The latter pair, as it happened, were really not thinking -very much about their lunch, because a still more -interesting matter absorbed their attention.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not understood!" Mr. de Coverley was saying -bitterly. "And so we die and go down to the -grave—not understood! The pathos of it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are never understood," sighed Lady Victoria, -patting the side waves of her "transformation" to -see that it was on straight. "We women, especially. -And those who should understand us best of all are so -often——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Exactly—so they are. But, Lady Victoria—Victoria!—there -are some who are different; there are -men, rare souls, who——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What in Heaven's name is the matter?" interrupted -the misunderstood one, stopping dead in her -tracks (literally, for the sand was deep) and staring at -the edge of the bush.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From the valley below the plain had just risen a long, -loud shriek, followed by another and another, and then -by a burst of laughter that sounded scarcely human. -The other members of the party had disappeared, but it -was clear that something had happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good God, the savages!" exclaimed Lady Victoria; -and she began to run. Let it be stated, for the credit -of her race and name, that she ran towards the sound. -As for Mr. de Coverley....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But this story is not about Mr. de Coverley. If it -were, it would be interesting to tell why the Sydney -steamer that called at Sulphur Bay two days later found -an unexpected passenger waiting at the trader's, and why -Lady Victoria and Mr. Abel Jenkins, of Jenkins's Perfect -Pills, became eventually reconciled and lived the life -of a model couple. As things are, it must be enough to -state that Mr. Jack de Coverley turned and ran away at -the sound of the shouts—ran right across the plain into -the bush at the other side—ran as far as he could get, and -did not come back at all—and thereby ran once and for -ever out of the life of the lady whom he "understood."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Victoria, speeding in the opposite direction, -reached the edge of the little valley in a very few minutes, -and, looking over, beheld what was certainly the strangest -sight she had encountered in all her varied life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Round about the elaborately-laid luncheon were -squatting a dozen or so of naked brown savages, painted, -feathered, and slashed with ornamental scars. A few -women, clad only in a six-inch fringe of grass, stood -behind them, eyeing the eatables eagerly, but not daring -to touch them while their masters fed. The talking-man, -a big, hulking savage with a huge bush of hair, and a -match-box stuck in each ear-lobe, had buried his face -in the savoury interior of a boned turkey, and was -gnawing out the stuffing. The principal chief, one -hand in a dish of Spanish cream and the other in a -chicken curry, was casting double supplies into his -mouth with the regularity of a patent feed-machine. -A fat young fighting man, with nose and forehead -painted scarlet, and white ashes in his hair, had tucked -a ham under one arm, and was sitting on a peach pie, -with intent to secure as many good things as possible, -while he hastily worried large mouthfuls off the -forequarter of lamb he was holding in both hands. Another -man was drinking mint sauce out of the silver sauceboat -with horrible grimaces; his neighbour, having -captured a handful of maraschino jelly, fast melting -in the sun, was industriously rubbing it on his hair; -and a grizzly old fellow, with a monkey-like face, was -half-choking himself over a soufflé, which he was trying -to swallow case and all. The necks of the champagne -bottles were all knocked off, and from engraved -wine-cases, empty entrée-dishes, and dredged-out tins the -savages were drinking Lady Victoria's excellent wines -with every appearance of satisfaction. Between mouthfuls -they stopped to look at the party from the yacht, -and to roar with laughter at their evident fright. Too -terrified even to run away, the voyagers, in their dainty -frocks and smart white suits, stood huddling together -for protection, the women crying, the men looking rather -white and foolish, for every Tannaman had a loaded rifle -slung to his side, and there was not so much as a saloon -pistol among the whites. A few yards off Vaiti stood, -regarding the whole scene with an expressionless -countenance that covered a good deal of quiet enjoyment. -She knew, if the visitors did not, that the cannibal -bushmen were really not at all a bad lot of fellows when -you knew them, and that the yacht party, against whom -they had no grudge, were perfectly safe. In fact, the -Tannamen merely thought these oddly-behaved whites -were a new party of missionaries, and were quite ready -to be civil to them, since they thought all the mission -people harmless, if eccentric.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the true inwardness of the situation not being -apparent, the </span><em class="italics">Alcyone's</em><span> guests were very frightened indeed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"P-perhaps if we go away very quietly, they won't -f-follow us," said a wealthy young stockbroker, who had -retained a little presence of mind, though his teeth were -chattering in his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, let us! Victoria, save me! Oh, what shall -we do?" wailed the elderly young lady, rushing up the -bank and flinging her arms round the mistress of the -violated feast. Lady Victoria, though white as her own -Belfast linen collar, kept her head fairly well. She saw -that Vaiti was not one of the invaders, and called to -her. "Do you speak English? What are we to do? -Will they kill us?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti walked over to her with the bearing of a stage -duchess, and favoured her with a fashionable high -handshake that was the one thing wanting to complete the -insanity of the whole impossible scene. A new idea -had suddenly struck her—a fresh spark of mischief was -lit. With an immovable countenance she replied:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No kill you, I think. Suppose you want go 'way all -right by'n-by, very good I think you sit down, eatum -dinner alonga those fellow—then they think you all -right, let you go home, no kill."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Victoria, anything to please them!" sobbed -the elderly young lady.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes—a—I think we'd better do anything we can to -get into their good graces, since we're not armed," -submitted the stockbroker.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti exchanged a few words with the Tannese. She -explained that these white people had come a long way, -and were very hungry. The Melanesian has not many -virtues, but hospitality is certainly one of them; and a -man who may be planning to dine off you himself -tomorrow will certainly not refuse you half of his own -leaf of yams to-day. The Tannese were delighted at the -chance of sharing their good fortune with the white -chiefs, even in spite of the latter's extremely silly -manners, and they beckoned to them at once to come and -sit down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thereafter took place a scene incapable of description -by mortal pen. The chief took his head out of the turkey, -chewed off a leg, and grinningly handed it to Lady -Victoria. The young warrior got off the pie, -disembowelled it with one scoop of the hand that had not -known water "for ten moons," and laid its interior in -the elderly young lady's lap. Another knowingly -poured out a champagne glass of Worcester sauce and -handed it to the stockbroker, while the much-bitten -lump of mutton that was at that moment circling -from mouth to mouth, native-fashion, was hospitably -passed on to all the whites. Driven by fear, they tried -to swallow something; choked in the effort, made -futile remarks to each other, laughed nervous laughs, -and all the time watched with eyes of utmost apprehension -the dusky hosts who were thus entertaining them -with their own audaciously ravished goods. And above -the crazy party the burning Tanna sun beat down, and -the great volcano-cone far across the plain smoked and -thundered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It had been Vaiti's design to dismiss them in peace -by and by, assured that their compliance had saved their -lives, and anxious to make steam out of Sulphur Bay as -soon as was reasonably possible. Fate, however, -reserved a more dramatic ending to the entertainment, -And it was "all along of" that talking-man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The cannibal native is invariably shy of displaying -his tastes before whites, since people who do not share -the "point of view" are so frequently prejudiced. -Therefore the talking-man did not open a certain small -green parcel tied up with sinnet string, which he had -brought down with him from the mountain village. -A feast in the hand is worth two in the pandanus-bush, -thought the talking-man, so he brought his </span><em class="italics">bonne bouche</em><span> -with him for dessert and said nothing about it. And -thereby came the end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For Lady Victoria, unable to swallow the clawed and -chewed morsels pressed upon her by dirt-encrusted -hands, began to hunt despairingly about for something -that she could really eat, so that she should not offend -the dangerous monsters who surrounded her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't there anything clean to be had?" she asked -the stockbroker anxiously. "I can't eat—and yet we -must! What are we to do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The stockbroker, who had once been to Honolulu, -and thought he knew something about native foods, -spied the packet of green banana-leaf, and reached out -for it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This'll be some of their own boiled yam," he said. -"Natives always do it up like this. You can eat it all -right if you scrape it with a knife. Allow me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before the talking-man could stretch out his filthy -claw to stop him, the Englishman had cut the sinnet -string, the parcel had burst open, and right into the -middle of a half-demolished chicken pie fell a large -white foot, cut off at the ankle, nicely browned across -the instep and all crackled on the toes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a wild shriek from the women, a splutter -of horrified exclamations from the men, a boiling up of -white petticoats like to the breaking of a wave on a -pebbly shore, and then nothing but a diminishing string -of rapidly trotting figures, each woman hand in hand with -a man who was dragging her along far away, farther and -farther, down the long, black, sandy path into the bush. -Then ... they were gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti stood on the bank to look after them, and -laughed quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now I think we keep Sulphur Bay all our own self," -she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for the Tannamen, they rolled on the ground with -laughter, and then picked the dainty morsel out of the -chicken pie and ate it up.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-rival-princesses"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE RIVAL PRINCESSES</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was full mid-day when the schooner </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> dropped -anchor off Liali Island. The hot season was at its -height. The long, white coral strand blazed in the sun, -the moated lagoon was raw emerald, the waveless outer -sea blue fire. Beyond the beach stretched a green, -grassy lawn, dotted with quaintly-shaped Norfolk pines, -tall palms, and feather-tressed ironwood trees; and -against its enamelled background rose a palace like a -picture in a fairy-tale—white, long-windowed, -lofty-towered, and crowned with a crimson flag set below a -gilded vane.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti, standing on the break of the poop, with the -inevitable cigar between her fingers, looked critically -at the island, and liked it well. A mere little matter -of kidnapping somebody's indentured labourers—the -sort of thing that any gentleman with an extensive -island practice might easily find himself obliged to -do—had brought about her father's expulsion from the New -Hebrides labour trade, and obliged him to seek new fields -for the activities of the notorious and naughty </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>. -Saxon himself was virtuously indignant, Vaiti not -particularly sorry. She was getting tired of the gloomy -feverish New Hebrides and their ugly savages. The -Eastern Pacific was her heart's home after all, -semi-Polynesian as she was; and even the wild excitement -of the cruel western isles could not hold her away very -long. So when Saxon was wavering between the advantages -of strictly illegal gun-running in the Solomons -and honest trading about the Liali group (which had just -wrecked its native schooner, and was open to employ a -successor), Vaiti's influence went for once on the side of -peace and virtue, and the course was set for Liali. The -group was new to both father and daughter, but was -none the less attractive on that account, since all over -the wide island world the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> and her owners were best -loved and most warmly welcomed where they were least -known.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Liali group, as many people in the Southern -hemisphere agree, offers the nearest possible approach -to comic opera known off the actual stage. Liali itself, -the chief island, is as pretty as a toy-box, and quite -extraordinarily theatrical in appearance. Its handsome, -merry, brown people wear the most picturesque costume -in the Pacific—a knee-length kilt of fine cashmere, -girded by a deep sash of pure silk, and worn with a silken -or cashmere shirt or a graceful sleeveless tunic, according -to sex—all in the most vivid of sea- and flower-colour. -Liali is civilised after a fashion. It goes barefoot and -barelegged, sits on mats, lives in reed-woven houses -devoid of furniture, worships a sacred lizard on the sly, -and sometimes breaks out openly into club-fights and -devil-dances. But it has a king, and a palace and a -Parliament, a brass band, and quite a number of very -active Nonconformist churches, run by white missionaries, -who find that "labouring" among the well-off -and amiable Lialians is a task in which the meritorious -martyrdom of missionary life can be combined with -quite a number of pleasant alleviations.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nothing in Liali is entirely what it seems. The palace, -when one comes close to it, is perceived to be built -of painted wood, like a "practicable" scene in a theatre. -The Parliament never passes any laws, because the -Lords, who are chiefs, always on principle throw out -every bill introduced by the vulgar Commons, just to -"teach" them. The Prime Minister is oftener in prison -for </span><em class="italics">lése majestè</em><span> than out of it, and several Chancellors -of the Exchequer have been transported to the Colonies -for theft. But there is a real throne in the palace, all -crimson velvet and gilt wood, and a wonderful gold -crown (the verdigris is cleaned off it with a wad of -cocoanut husks by the Chief Equerry every Saturday -afternoon), and when the King goes out in state he wears -a purple velvet train, held up by two pages in tights -and plumes, and a marvellous ermined robe, all exactly -like the Savoy Theatre in the consulship of Gilbert and -Sullivan. On occasions not of state he sits cross-legged -upon the palace parquet, clad in a shirt and a -kilt, and plays </span><em class="italics">écarté</em><span> with his native guards.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There are a few colonial traders in Liali, and a dozen -or so of the English "legion that never was listed"—just -such as one finds in all the odd corners of the -Pacific—talkative, plausible, thin and nervous, given to avoid -home topics and discourse with awful fluency upon -small local politics; hospitable, restless and lazy, and -usually married more or less to some dark beauty of the -islands, who has grown as fat as a feather bed and spends -a fortune on store muslins.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These, as a matter of course, took possession of the -</span><em class="italics">Sybil's</em><span> people at once, hardly waiting for the schooner to -cast anchor before they were alongside with their boats. -Saxon and Vaiti were swept ashore immediately, and -begged to make their home in half-a-dozen different -houses. With a fine sense of the fitting, Saxon selected -Bob Peter's public-house, misnamed hotel, and -immediately held a </span><em class="italics">levée</em><span> in the bar, wearing his smartest -Auckland suit (not paid for, and not likely to be) and -looking, with his heavy, old-fashioned cavalry moustache, -blonde-grey hair, and well set-up though rather bloated -figure, quite like a somewhat seedy Milor on his travels. -(And, as a matter of fact.... But that was Saxon's -long-buried secret, and must not be told.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti, splendidly attired in a flowing island robe of -yellow silk, with a gold chain twisted through her misty -black hair, sat in the midst of a court of her own, and -drank expensive pink lemonade to her soul's content. -She was revelling in the sights, the sounds, the smells of -the dear eastern islands once more. She had a necklace -of perfumed red berries round her neck, and white -"tieré" flowers behind each ear, and the well-remembered -scent almost intoxicated her. Outside she -could hear the boom of a dancing-chant, broken by -interludes of clapping; and from the very next house, a big -native reed-built structure, came now and then in the -quieter moments the sonorous voice of a Lialian man -calling out the names at a kava-drinking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The double soul that is the curse of the half-caste -surged within the girl.... This, this, this, and all -it meant—how she loved it! And yet, the wild, fierce -life of the western islands; the chance, the risk, the -strong wine of danger, adventure, power! The two -natures of the soldier of fortune and the sensuous island -princess who had given her birth, fought together in -her heart.... If one could eat one's cake and have it! -If one could sleep all day, crowned with flowers, under -the singing casuarina trees, and yet be the daring -sea-queen, the "Kapitani" of the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>, if only...</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti shook herself impatiently in her hammock -chair, and asked for ginger beer with sugar in it. She -hated thinking, and felt as if she were going mad when -the half-white brain in her pretty dusky head took a -strange fit of sober industry. Swift, instinctive plotting -and planning were one thing, deliberate reflection quite -another.... Ugh! she must be sick.... And for -once the temperate Vaiti said yes to the inevitable offer -of "a stick in it," as her ginger beer was handed to her -by an eager admirer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The "sickness" passed away, and she began to listen -and watch in her old fashion, smiling all the time to the -compliments and sweet sayings that were being poured -into her ears. A trader was telling her father all about -the latest dynastic crisis in the monarchy, and Saxon -was not even pretending to listen. The affairs of -"niggers" never interested him, unless there was a -question of immediate profit ahead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You see," said the trader, "King Napoleon Timothy -Te Paea III., which is his full title, wants for to get -married. He's thirty, and there's no heir. And there -being just the two Lialian princesses that wasn't his -sisters—Mahina and Litia—what does he do but go and -propose to both of them, and, of course, gets snapped up -like winkin' by the two. It's no small potatoes being -Queen of Liali, mind you. Te Paea gets lots of money -out of the fruit, and copra taxes, and then the Crown -lands is half the island, there's presents besides. And -he's a real king if he is coffee-coloured—why, the kings -of Liali goes back hundreds of years before Captain Cook, -and he was in Henry Eighth's time, wasn't he? And if -you was to see the pink satin chairs in the throne-room, -and the phonographs, and musical-boxes, and albums, -and lookin'-glasses, and the lovely wax flowers in cases, -and real hand-painted oil pictures—ah! it's a good -job, is Te Paea's, and either Mahina or Litia's going to -be a very lucky girl. What he'd like, you see, is to marry -both of them, same as his old grandfather—only he -married nine, he did. But the King's a Methody, good -as they make them—when he don't forget, or want a -spree—and of course the missionaries won't hear of his -havin' two queens. And, says he, Mahina's real fat; -there's nothing mean about Mahina; she fills the eye, -says he, and that's what a Lialian likes, for they don't -hold with any sort of stinginess, says he. But Litia, he -says, has eyes like the buttons on his Auckland boots, -they're so round and black and bright, says he, and -she walks for all the world like a lovely young mutton-bird, -says he. And what's a king to do, with both the -girls' relations fighting and squabbling over him like -land-crabs fighting over a bit of fish, and he himself -liking them both, and the girls clean mad for -him—because, you see, Te Paea he's a handsome fellow, and -when he's got his military uniform on, and all his orders -and medals what he drew out himself on paper, and got -made in Sydney, he's a fancy man, he is. The wedding's -to be in three weeks, and the invites is being printed -down in Auckland all in silver, with a blank to write the -bride's name in—and the House of Lords has bought -the bride's dress for her, which is what the Kings says -it's their right to do, according to custom,—and no -one knows which he's going to marry, and no more -does he. And it's my belief that there'll be war over it, -before all's said and done, for Mahina's people say they'll -burn down every village belonging to Litia's tribe, and -Litia's folks say they'll kill Mahina's people's cattle and -cut up their gardens. That's the way things are, and you -may take my word it's a pretty kettle of fish."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you giving for copra at present?" asked -Saxon, yawning unrestrainedly. And the conversation -turned at once to the inevitable trading "shop."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few days afterwards the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> spread her wings and -started for Waiwai, the outermost of the Liali islands. -She was to make the whole round of the group afterwards, -and might not be back for some weeks, so that it seemed -likely that Saxon would miss the festivities of the King's -wedding. This Vaiti declared was no reason why she -should miss them, and she insisted on being left behind. -Saxon was not too well pleased, for if he had a remnant -of conscience left, it was connected with the care of his -daughter, and he did not quite care about leaving her -alone in a group to which they were both strangers. But -Vaiti promised to behave like a saint, and furthermore -said that she would stay with one of the married traders, -and not in the native villages. She also added that she -meant to stay anyhow, and that it was no use making -a fuss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> sailed away out of Liali harbour, and -became a little pearl-coloured pinhead on the blue -horizon, and then melted quite away. And Vaiti went -to the tin-roofed shanty belonging to Neumann, the fat -German trader, who had married a Lialian wife, and was -received with the unquestioning hospitality of the -islands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nobody, among either whites or natives, could talk -of anything but the King's matrimonial affairs. -Mahina and Litia both appeared in Neumann's parlour -more than once, sat on the floor, drank black tea with a -handful of sugar in it, and related their several woes at -length. They did not come together, except once, when -Litia, walking in unexpectedly, found Mahina there, -crying into her teacup, and telling Neumann's wife that -the King had given Litia a beautiful chemise, all trimmed -with lace, only the day before, and that in consequence -she considered him a monster and a perjured villain, -although she knew perfectly well that he meant nothing -whatever by it. What was a chemise? He had sent -her two pounds of stick tobacco the Sunday before last. -She would show Litia yet that the King was her King, -and nobody else's.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Litia, entering at this point, wasted no words, but -simply buried her hands in Mahina's curly black masses -of hair, and dragged her, shrieking, across the floor. -Neumann interfered, and parted them; but Mahina -flew at Litia immediately after, ripped open her dress -with one clutch, and disclosed the royal gift chastely -embracing Litia's lovely form. With a howl of anger, -the rival seized the chemise in both hands; there was a -scuffle, a scream, a rending noise, and Litia stood up in -the middle of the room, a gold-bronze statue, shedding -tears of rage, while Mahina, running out on to the -verandah, tore the offending garment into strips and -rags, and cast them upon the road. Litia, rushing out -after her, stood upon the steps clad with wrath as with -a garment (and with extremely little else), explaining -her wrongs to an interested and sympathetic native -crowd, until the Methodist missionary happened to come -by, and told her that unless she went in and dressed -herself at once, she might safely count upon eventually -finding herself in a place where dress would be very -much at a discount ... or words to that effect. So -Litia went in, and Mahina went away, escorted by a -strong cousinly "tail"; and afterwards Neumann, -enveloped in oracular clouds of smoke, remarked sleepily -that the princesses were the greatest nuisance on the -island, and that he believed the King would run away -from the whole set if he could, for he was "by-nearly -mad-driven on account of their so-tiresome ways, and -feared-himself to choose, because the one that he not -married had would cause to make war by her people -against the one he married should."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During the whole of the fight, Vaiti remained -perfectly unmoved on a cane lounge in the corner of the -room, uninterruptedly puffing rings of blue smoke at -the ceiling. Not a detail had escaped her, all the same, -nor did she miss a word of Neumann's remarks. And -they made her think.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the afternoon, the dull thud of galloping hoofs -along the grass street made Mrs. Neumann run to the -door. She called loudly to Vaiti to come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the King," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A small victoria, drawn by two spirited blacks, was -tearing up the street. Seated alone in it was an -extraordinary and notable figure—Napoleon Timothy Te -Paea III., King of Liali. He was six feet four inches in -height, and over eighteen stone in weight. He wore -a scarlet cloth uniform coat, blazing with gold, and his -heavy, handsome brown face, with its weak, small mouth, -and black eyes almost too large and soft for a man, was -shaded by a white sun helmet with a wide gold band.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He drove furiously, looking neither to right nor to left, -and, passing the house like a gorgeous whirlwind, was -instantly lost in the casuarina forest beyond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is the King, then?" said Vaiti. The Lialian -language came almost as easily to her as her own, being -only one of the dialects of the great Maori tongue that -covers a good two-thirds of the island world.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Neumann's wife, "that is the King. -And very little any of us have seen of him lately. He -is afraid of the trouble he has got himself into; he shuts -himself up all the time, and sees no one but his guards, -and just sends a present now and then, first to one girl -then to the other. And when he drives to take the air, -he flies along like that, so that no one can stop and speak -to him. He is terribly shy of strangers; I think it was -because the </span><em class="italics">Sipila</em><span> was here that he did not come out at -all last week."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it such a very good thing for the princess he will -marry?" asked Vaiti, playing with a yellow alamanda -flower.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very, very good indeed," replied the Lialian -impressively. "She will have a gold crown to wear on -her head, and sit on a red velvet and gold throne beside -the King, and have the most beautiful satin dresses from -Sydney, and all her chemises will have lace and ribbons -on them. And as soon as the King buys another -schooner for himself and Liali, she will travel in it with -him whenever she likes, for sometimes he will go to -Samoa, to stay with King Malietoa, or he will sail a whole -week to Mbau in Fiji, and then Princess Thakombau and -the Prince of Kandavu make feasts and dances for -him, and the Kovana [governor] gives a real 'papalangi' -dinner for him, with champagne and a band. And as -for what she will have to eat at home, it is past telling, -for in the palace there is no count whatever made of -tinned salmon and biscuit, and she may have a sackful -of sugar at every meal, and a whole roast pig every day. -She may eat till she falls asleep, and then wake up to -eat. Ah, it is a good thing for the princess who marries -the King, whichever she may be!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think you will be thirsty if you talk so much," -said Vaiti rather rudely. "I am thirsty myself with -only listening to you. Go and make some kava for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Neumann, who had been rather proud to have -Vaiti staying with her—since her rank as a princess of -Atiu counted for a good deal among the island races—began -to dislike her visitor soon after this, and to wish -her well away. Vaiti was not an angel in the house at -the best of times, and she did not trouble to make -herself pleasant just then. Indeed, one would almost have -thought she was trying to pick a quarrel. And, as -that sort of effort rarely goes unrewarded, it is not -astonishing to learn that the quarrel came before long—a -bitter, loud-tongued dispute that left Mrs. Neumann -sobbing in a fat, frightened heap on the floor, and -Vaiti, silent but stormy, packing up her camphorwood -box to depart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Neumann, being afraid of Saxon's possible anger, -tried to keep her, but she laughed in his face, and went -on packing. There was an empty native house—little -more than a palm-leaf hut, once tenanted by a Chinese -trader—standing by the road about halfway through -the great casuarina forest; a lonely, ramshackle place, -used and wanted by nobody. There and there only -Vaiti would go, taking mats and cooking pots with -her, to stay until her father came back. When some -of the islanders betrayed meddlesome curiosity as to -her motives, and the missionaries declared they scented -scandal, Vaiti silenced and terrified the one, and -convinced the others that she was hopelessly beyond the -pale, by giving out that she was something of a witch, -and meant to go into the forest to gather and prepare -certain powerful charms. These, she said, would injure -only her enemies, but were altogether powerless to hurt -anyone who spoke well of her. In consequence, the -evil tongues of Liali received a sudden check.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Furthermore, Vaiti, neglecting the half-castes and -the whites, began with considerable art to make herself -popular among the natives. She dressed herself Liali -fashion, and arranged her hair after the island modes. -She joined in all their interminable boating journeys and -picnics, and was never tired of sitting cross-legged on -the ground, waving her arms and head in time with -a hundred others, and chanting Lialian songs that lasted -an afternoon apiece. After dark, she was often to be -seen out on the reef, with a torch and a fishing spear -making an exhibition of piscatorial skill that astonished -even the Lialians themselves. When there was an -unmissionary dance in some big chief-house, Vaiti was -always there, decked with wreaths and flower necklaces, -and polished with cocoanut oil, turning the heads of -all the young men by the grace of her dancing, and -winning the astonished approval of the women by the -cool reserve with which she received every advance of -a sentimental nature. Both Mahina and Litia took -jealous fancies to her—thus acquiring yet one more -cause of mutual dissension—and separately poured all -their woes into her ear. She was wonderfully sympathetic, -and urged each one on to assert her rights and stand -no nonsense; insomuch that before very long the island -was fairly ringing with what Litia's people meant -to do to Mahina's, and what Mahina's would certainly -do to Litia's, in the event of the King selecting one or -the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Somebody about this time—it was never ascertained -who—spread a report that Captain Saxon of the </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> -had a number of trade rifles on board his ship, and several -cases of cartridges. The talk began to take a more -dangerous turn. The schooner would not be back till -the wedding was over, it was said, but let the winning -party look out for themselves when she did come! The -Lialians, under missionary rule, had been peaceful and -law-abiding people for almost a whole generation; but -they had not yet forgotten that they were once the -masters of the Pacific, and that of all the warlike island -races, none had been such fighters as they.... The -older men began to snuff battle in the air, walked about -with their chests flung out, and told bloodthirsty ancient -stories to the younger Lialians. The women sang war -songs at the evening gatherings in the chief-houses, and -Mahina and Litia began to go about followed by bands -of eager partisans. Liali was certainly warming up.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="queen-after-all"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">QUEEN AFTER ALL</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>News of all these things came duly to the King through -his faithful spies, and his Majesty Napoleon Timothy Te -Paea III. went nearly frantic. He actually began to lose -weight—a consummation that all the skill of his European -court doctor had hitherto failed to bring about—and -day by day he drove more wildly behind his famous -blacks, covering mile after mile of lonely forest roads -at a pace that brought the horses home all in a lather -and the yellow satin cushions grimed with dust. The -wedding approached within ten days: the triumphal -arches were being erected; the Queen Consort's throne -came back from the carpenter, freshly gilded and -upholstered; and the band were hard at work practising -the strange conglomeration of shrieks and wails that -make up the Lialian National Anthem. The bride's -dress, provided, according to usage, by the House of -Lords, arrived at the palace in a palm-leaf basket. -It was a very gorgeous affair—a long, loose robe of orange -satin, embroidered in scarlet by a few of the cleverest -mission-school girls—and it was of a usefully indefinite -size, since the difference between the massive Mahina -and the waspish little Litia was almost as great as the -difference (of another kind) between their respective -parties. The silver-printed invitations for the white -people and the chiefs—"To be present at the wedding -of His Majesty King Napoleon Timothy Te Paea III. with -Princess——," came up by a whale-ship from -Auckland, and so did the wedding cake, largely plaster of -Paris. And still the wretched King, lashed by the -scourge of his own light-hearted follies, sent pacificating -presents to both girls, and put off the dire decision.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was about this time that any wayfarer passing -through the casuarina forest "might have observed" -a light in Vaiti's cottage late one night. There was no -one to observe, however, for the wood was supposed to -be devil-haunted, and no native ever passed through -it save in broad daylight. When it grew toward sunset -the only Lialian who would brave its dangers so far as to -rush across it in the red evening light was the King -himself, who had been educated in Sydney, and did -not believe in devils—much. The forest road was the -shortest way home from his usual circular drive, and he -frequently passed by the cottage just before sunset, -driving like Jehu the son of Nimshi, and looking neither -to right nor to left. He had never noticed Vaiti as he -passed, for she was always within the house, looking out -between the cracks of the palm-leaves, where she could -see without being seen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This evening, long after the King had passed by and -the dark had come down, Vaiti sat on the floor of the -hut, looking very thoughtful, as she turned out the -contents of her big camphorwood box by the light of a -ship's hurricane lantern. She was all alone, as usual, -and smoking, also as usual. There was no sound in -the solitary little house but the sighing of the wind in -the casuarina trees and the steady puff of the girl's cigar. -Papers, letters, packets of lace, odd bits of jewellery, -silk dresses, pistols, knives, collections of rope and twine, -laced underclothing, cartridges, feathers, shells, cigars, -pearl-inlaid boxes, revareva plumes, and a miscellaneous -collection of odds and ends garnered from all the four -corners of the South Seas, strewed the floor, and the box -was still half full. By-and-by she came upon what she -wanted—a roll of stuff done up in waxed paper. She -unfastened it, and let the contents fall out across the mats -under the rays of the lantern. It was a web of pure -gold tissue, bright as a summer sunrise and fine as a -fairy's wing—an exquisite piece of stuff, which she had -acquired from a Chinese trader in Honolulu by means -none too scrupulous, and hoarded away for years.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti looked at it thoughtfully, and then opened a -little tortoise-shell and silver box, and spilled its -contents—a shower of photographs—into her lap. They were -an exceedingly various collection—naval, military, -British, French, native and half-caste—but most were -men, and many were young and handsome. Perhaps -the best-looking of the collection was that of a young -English naval officer, signed across the corner -"R. Tempest," with a Sydney address, and "Must it be -good-bye?" written in tiny letters under the signature. -Vaiti took the picture in her hand, and looked at it -so long and earnestly that her cigar went out while she -gazed. She lit another, put down the photograph, and -sat smoking and thinking for quite a long time.... The -world was still all before her ... and the whaling ship -had said that another vessel was almost sure to touch, on -her way to Sydney next week.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once in Vaiti's many-coloured history a -looking-glass had proved her undoing. It was a looking-glass -that proved her salvation now, at the parting of the -ways. For, as she sat thinking, a brilliant picture -caught her eye—her own proud, lovely head, crowned -regally with a wreath of flowers, reflected in the mirror -inside the lid of the box. She smiled, stretched out -her hand—letting the photograph fall unnoticed to the -floor from her lap—and placed a fold of the golden tissue -across her head.... Yes, it looked quite like a -crown—a Queen Consort's crown ... the glass gave back a -truly royal picture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti's cheeks flushed as she looked. She could -hardly turn away. But the golden fold slipped off her -hair, and the queenly picture was gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She shut the box, and with set lips took a match, lit -it, and set fire to the photograph. It burned very slowly, -and the flame seemed to lick sympathetically round her -own heart as it crawled about the handsome, debonair, -but sensual face, lit up, and then put out, the laughing -eyes, crackled through the curly hair and the white -naval cap, and at last reduced the whole bright picture -to a little pile of feathery black ash—dead, dead, dead!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti dropped the charred fragments from her hands, -and then put her head down upon the mats and lay very -still....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When morning broke through the narrow door of -the hut, the rays of the rising sun fell upon the figure -of a girl with a cold, expressionless face, sitting upon the -threshold, hard at work with needle and thread. Upon -her lap lay a pile of golden gauze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That afternoon the King drove late in the forest. -The sun was near setting, and the rays were slanting long -and low among the red trunks of the gloomy casuarina -trees, when the spirited blacks came galloping up to the -cottage. Every day they had passed it by, a still, -brown nest in the shadows, where nothing moved, -but this evening, as they reached the spot, something -caused them to check and shy, and the King, splendid -driver as he was, had some difficulty in pulling them in. -When he had succeeded, he glanced at the object that -had caused their fright, and saw a vision startling -enough to astonish even himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A stranger girl of exceeding beauty stood in the -midst of the forest clearing. She was dressed in a robe -of magnificent golden tissue, from which the level rays -of the westering sun sparkled back in a halo of almost -supernatural glory. On her head was a wreath of blood-red -hibiscus flowers, and her exquisite right arm, bare -except for a twisted chain of gold, held up an island -kava cup of carved cocoanut shell. When she saw that -the King observed her, she sank on her knees, bent her -neck, and raised the cup higher in both hands above her -head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was an invitation, and one that no Lialian could -possibly have refused, for the drink brewed from the -kava root, and the ceremonies connected with the -brewing, tasting, and giving round, are almost a religion -in those islands, and many a man, in the old wild days, -has died for the insult of putting aside the proffered -cup. Therefore the King descended at once, tied his -horses to a tree, and advanced to take the cup from the -hands of this unknown woman who understood royal -etiquette so well. It was his Majesty's right to have -his kava, and indeed all his food and drink, proffered -in this especial attitude; but half-castes and whites -were sometimes careless enough to forget the honour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He drank the great bowlful at a draught, as a king -should, and, sending the cup with a twirl to the ground, -according to etiquette, cast a side glance at the beautiful -cup-bearer. He hated strangers and distrusted foreigners, -still...</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you not come in and rest, O Great Chief?" -asked Vaiti in Lialian.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who are you?" said the King, still looking half -away—but only half.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Princess of Atiu, and daughter of the great English -sea-captain Saxon," replied Vaiti, drawing herself up -to her full height, and looking him straight in the eyes. -The King met the look full this time, and thought that -Litia's eyes, Lialian though she was, were not so bright -by half. And if Mahina was fatter—as she certainly -was—she never had such hair, or such a coral-red mouth. -And what a magnificent dress the magnificent creature -wore!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He knew at once who Vaiti was, when she mentioned -her rank in Atiu, for the chocolate-coloured island -kings and queens understand each other's complicated -genealogies quite as clearly as do their white compeers -on the other side of the world—and though Atiu was a -broken, half-depopulated place, annexed to the British -Crown, its chiefs were of ancient lineage and high repute. -Napoleon Timothy Te Paea III. hesitated a moment—stretched -out his hand—withdrew it—then stretched -it out again, and graciously offered it to Vaiti, as to -an equal in blood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vaiti, glowing with gratification, yet had the happy -intuition of dropping on one knee and kissing the royal -hand, European fashion. The King understood it, and -swelled with pleasure, remembering how Mahina had had -the impudence to chuck him under the chin when he -bestowed a gracious salute upon her inferior lips, and -how Litia had objected altogether to get off her horse -when he was passing by, as Lialian royal customs -enjoined upon all riders ... What a nuisance they -had both grown to be, crying and battering at the -palace gates, fighting over his gifts, getting up trouble -among their relatives—trouble that he now began to -fear might become so serious as to bring down the -interference of the British Crown. And every Pacific monarch -knew what was the inevitable next move, when that game -had once begun! Good-bye to his kingship, if once the -British Lion laid a claw on Lialia.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you not come in and rest, Great Chief?" said -the humble voice of the stranger again. And the King, -still shy and distrustful, and looking at Vaiti only out of -the corners of his eyes, did condescend to come in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the next day he rested again, and the day after -that. It was astonishing how easily driving seemed to -tire his Majesty at this period. And all the time the -wedding preparations went forward, while Mahina and -Litia, with their respective factions, grew more and more -jealous of each other, and more and more enraged.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But there came a day at last, four days from the -wedding, when the King declared that he would make -his final choice on the evening before the marriage day, -and would send a herald on that night to proclaim it -through the capital.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ruru, the royal herald, who had never before had a -chance to exercise his office or wear his uniform, was -extremely pleased. He got out his finery at once—a -Beefeater cap and tabard of crimson silk, worn with a -large silk sash, and bare legs—and began a dress -rehearsal that lasted, with intervals for food and sleep, -until the evening of the proclamation. At sunset he -went up to the palace, received the paper that -contained the message, and strutting like a turkey, came out -on to the open green in front, where at least a thousand -Lialians—half of them Litia's friends, and half of them -Mahina's—were collected. Mahina and Litia themselves, -each defiantly dressed in all the bridal finery -she could muster, stood in the forefront of the crowd, -exchanging looks of death and hatred. It had come to -this with the two women now, that either would have -cheerfully died a death of slow torture, if by so doing -only she could have prevented the other from winning. -That she might miss the glories of the throne was not -the prominent thought in Litia's mind—only that -Mahina might secure them and triumph over her; and -the self-same fancy agitated the ample breast of her -rival, as the two stood in the cool twilight, within -sound of the breakers on the reef, waiting with choking -anxiety for Ruru's words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"People of Liali!" read the herald impressively, -striking an attitude, with one bare leg advanced: "His -Majesty King Napoleon Timothy Te Paea III. of -Liali, being sovereign by right divine, and the Lord's -Anointed, also High Chief of all the Liali Islands as -descendant of the Sacred Lizard, has decided to marry, -according to the custom of his forefathers, and give the -land of Liali an heir to our mighty crown. The wedding -will take place in the mission church to-morrow, at noon -and there will be a collection afterwards for expenses! -If anyone comes drunk to church, or puts nothing in -the plate, he will be turned out. His Majesty hereby -announces that, in order to save war and dissension -among his loyal subjects, and to teach some princesses -to pay him proper respect, he has decided to give the -honour of his hand to Princess Vaiti, daughter of Princess -Rangi of Atiu, deceased, and Captain Saxon, of the -schooner </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span>. God save the King, and you are all to -go home without making a row."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a fine proclamation, but assuredly the order -in the last clause asked too much of Lialian humanity. -No one attempted to obey it. The news was received -first in a dead silence of amazement, and then by a storm -of shrieks, howls, questions, a wild trampling and rushing -to and fro, and, last of all, by a Homeric roar of -laughter. The Lialian possesses a rough but reliable -sense of humour, practical joking being his especial -delight; and it suddenly dawned upon the populace -of Liali that the King had played the most stupendous -practical joke upon them ever known in the history of -the islands. Therefore these light-hearted children of -the sun, instead of raiding the palace in two separate -factions, lay down and rolled upon the grass, or held -helplessly on to one another, roaring with laughter. -The utter disconcerting of Mahina and Litia, now that -all party feeling was removed from the matter, further -appealed to them as a jest of the finest sort, and -witticisms that would have made a trooper blush were hurled -upon the disconsolate maidens from all sides. Some -few there were who frowned at the triumph of a foreigner -and a stranger; but Vaiti's arts had succeeded in making -her popular, and the malcontents were borne down by -the roar of public amusement and assent. Vaiti herself, -safely hidden in the Methodist mission house, listened -to the laughter far off, and felt well pleased. She had -not been very sure how matters might go, and had -therefore, at a bold stroke, won the favour of the Church -by approaching the missionary, and assuring him of the -extreme purity of her Methodism (she was, if anything, -a pure heathen) and, in confidence, of the honour awaiting -her. The reverend gentleman, who had long sat on -thorns by reason of the power of the Seventh Day -Adventist, Christian Science, and Original Shaker -missions in the islands, received her with delight, and -handed her over to the care of his wife, who shortly -afterwards informed him that the new light of the Church -was, in her opinion, a "perfect minx"—but that she -supposed it was as well, under the circumstances, to -make to herself friends of the mammon of unrighteousness, -as the Bible enjoined, and remain on intimate -visiting terms with the palace. So Vaiti spent the -fateful evening under the secure protection of the -Church itself, and claimed the same creditable patronage -for the day of the wedding.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What of Mahina and Litia? The disappointed -princesses, when the proclamation was read out, turned -and stared at each other like tigresses robbed of a meal. -Neither was going to be Queen of Liali—neither was -going to scratch her rival's eyes out, and root up her hair, -for the crime of securing the coveted honour. The very -bottom of the world had dropped out—what was to -follow?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment they continued to stare, each scanning -the other's face under a new light—the light of common -feeling. Litia remembered that she and Mahina had -been brought up almost as sisters in the palace of the -late Queen. Mahina recalled the time when she had -almost died of measles, and Litia had nursed her through. -They were both deceived, both deserted, and the friends -of one could never crow offensively over the other now. -The thought was mingled bitter-sweet, and the two -burst out crying, and dropped into each other's arms, -simultaneously vowing threats of vengeance against the -treacherous interloper, which—unbacked by their -war-like following of friends—they knew very well they -would never be able to execute. And the crowd dispersed -as the sun went down.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Sybil</em><span> made better time than was expected, after -all. Her white sails lifted against the blue, from behind -the nearest island, just as the royal wedding party -commenced its gorgeous procession to the church. Before -the ceremony was ended, the schooner had made the -harbour and Saxon was ashore. He came upon an -utterly deserted town, and saw not a human being -until he was halfway up to the church, outside of which -he perceived an immense crowd, unable to enter. Under -a tree by the wayside sat one of the English traders -who had failed to get a place. He greeted Saxon -uproariously, and asked him if this wasn't a proper go.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What?" asked Saxon. "Which is he marrying?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, crikey! he doesn't know!" roared the trader—and -fell back against the tree, suffocating with laughter, -and utterly declining to explain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Saxon, cursing him for a silly fool, tramped on towards -the church. The procession was coming out now, and -he wanted to see the show, for though he might call the -coffee-coloured Lialians niggers, he quite understood the -position of King Napoleon Timothy Te Paea III., and -the importance to all the islands of his choice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He got upon a bank to see the better, fixed his -long-sighted sailor eyes upon the chapel door, and saw a -glittering vision emerge into the sunlight, amidst the -cries and cheers of the people. That was the King, in -a gorgeous uniform, with his crown on his head and a -long velvet mantle sweeping behind him ... and at -his left hand stepped a tall, stately, slender figure, also -crowned, and dazzlingly dressed all in glittering gold.... -Not Mahina, certainly; not Litia either—Who was -it, then? It could never be—but it was—Vaiti!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Saxon staggered off the bank, sat down, jumped up -again, and clapped his hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By ——, if it isn't like her, through and through!" -he cried. "By ——, I'm proud of her! Queen of -Liali! Queen of Liali! But——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stopped, and shook his head with a knowing -laugh. He was not very sober.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But—God help the King!" he said.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>THE END</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND ECCLES.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>VAITI OF THE ISLANDS</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50663"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50663</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. -Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this -license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works to protect the Project Gutenberg™ concept and -trademark. 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