Captain Bergen and Mate Storms were honest, conscientious men, and Christians, and they performed their full duty in that most important respect to Inez Hawthorne. Never passed a day in which Storms did not read, in an impressive voice, from the great Book of all books, and the sublime passages, the wonderful precepts, the divine truths and the sacred instruction from that volume were seed which fell upon good ground and bore its fruit in due season.

If ever there was a good, pure, devout Christian, Inez Hawthorne became one, and her greatest desire, as she repeatedly expressed it, was that she might go out in the great world among all people, and do her utmost to carry the glad tidings to them.

"The time will come," replied Abe Storms, when he listened to these glowing wishes. "God never intended you should live and die upon this lonely island when there is such need for missionaries like you. I don't see that we are of much account, but I believe He has something for us, too, and we shall be given the opportunity to do it."

"Ah," said the skipper, with a sigh, "you have been saying that for three years, and the sails that come go again and care nothing for us. I am beginning to believe we are to stay here for the rest of our lives, and that I am to be the first one to take the long, last sleep that awaits us all."



CHAPTER XXV

AN ARRIVAL

When Captain Bergen was inclined to become pessimistic, the mate treated it lightly, for he feared the strong sailor would break before long from sheer homesickness.

It was fortunate that neither had any family, the mate being one of those who are without any close living relative, while the captain had a sister in New England, and his aged mother was in San Francisco, living with a nephew, of whom she was very fond.

Thus the three years passed away, and the second era in their lives approached. There was something curious in the fact that all the inhabitants of the lonely Pearl Island had lost their reckoning. No two could agree on the day of the week, and when they compromised on one, which was called Sunday, and observed as such, they were much in doubt whether they were right, and, as it afterward proved, they were not.

One afternoon, when the sun had hardly passed the meridian, the mate and captain were stretched upon the beach under the shade of a palm-tree, and looking out upon the sea, over which they had come to this desolate spot so long before. The day was cooler than usual, and a steady breeze blew, rendering the position of the friends in that respect as pleasant as they could wish, though their weary, homesick feeling was telling upon them. Both the ragged sailors were thinner, and there was a yearning, far-away look in their eyes, especially in those of the captain, which presaged the approach of insanity or death at no distant day, unless a change were made in their condition and surroundings. This lamentable state was partly due, no doubt, to the diet to which they had been subjected for many months.

Inez, who seemed happy everywhere and at all times, was busying herself in the cabin, where she could find plenty to do; and ever and anon the sound of her voice could be heard, as she sang some snatch of song, which came through the mist of memory from her infancy.

"I tell you what it is," said Captain Bergen, in his low, determined voice, "this thing cannot continue much longer."

"You are no more weary of it than I, Jack; but show me the way in which it can be ended."

"We've got to take the risk. The tender there is large enough to carry us and a good supply of provisions—that is, enough water, to last several days. We can rig some sort of sail, and, in less than a week, by keeping to the northwest, we shall reach some inhabited island, unless we should be picked up before that time, which I consider quite likely."

"I've thought a good deal of it, Jack," said the mate, in a voice of equal seriousness. "We have been restrained heretofore by the fear that it would endanger too greatly the safety of Inez, and mainly by the feeling that we couldn't stay here long without assistance being summoned by that signal fluttering up there. And yet, three years have come and gone," continued the mate, "and not a living soul has come to us. There have been hundreds of days within this long period when we might have embarked on board the little boat and safely made our way to some other port, but we could not know it, and the result is—here we are."

"And the situation is very different from what it was when we first landed, for it is now a choice between staying here with the certainty of miserably perishing—every one of us—and of starting boldly out upon an unknown sea, as it may be called, with the chances between life and death about even."

"You have stated the case correctly," assented Mr. Storms; "and though it is your place to command, yet as you have deferred to me, I give you my promise that to-morrow we shall begin rigging the best sort of sail we can, and at daylight on the next day we will start for whatever port Providence directs us."

"That has put new life into me, Abe. I feel now as I did three years ago, when we first caught sight of those pearls. I am ten years younger. I prefer a bold stroke for life to a weak submission to fate, with this dismal waiting for help to come to us. By the great horn spoon! a thousand such pearl banks as we cleaned out wouldn't tempt me to spend another year on this hated island——"

At this instant the voice of Inez was heard, excitedly calling to them, and while they rose to the sitting position and looked inquiringly in that direction, she was seen to spring through the open door of the cabin, and to come running toward them on the beach, bareheaded and with her long, yellow hair streaming in the wind.

"What can be the matter with her?" exclaimed the captain, rising to his feet. "What is she saying?"

"Hark!"

The distance was so short that the girl was at their side a second or two later. She was laughing, and uttering something in her excitement, which, until that moment, they did not understand.

"Who ever saw any one so stupid?" she called out, cheerily. "What are your eyes for? Why don't you look out to sea?"

The two obeyed, and an exclamation of amazement escaped both, for there, while they had lain on the beach talking in such disconsolate tones, and looking dreamily out upon the ocean, a craft had been steadily approaching, and neither of the two saw it.

At the furthest, it was no more than a mile distant, and, since it was heading straight in toward the atoll, the chances were a hundred to one that the signal of distress had been seen, and the lonely island at last was going to have a visitor.

Captain Bergen muttered something about the "great horn spoon," under his breath, while Storms said nothing, but gazed steadily at the craft, upon which his hopes were so suddenly and strongly fixed. It might be that the hearts of all three bounded with hope at this sight of a vessel, but the hope was mixed with apprehension, for the sailors saw it was not the sort of vessel for which they had been praying so long.

Instead of a gallant ship, with the Stars and Stripes streaming from the fore, it was what is termed a flying proa, which is the name applied to the narrow canoes used principally in the Ladrone Islands. They are about thirty feet long, three feet wide, and are steered by a paddle at either end. The sail is lateen, with a boom upon one mast; the prow and stern curve to a high point, and the depth being considerably greater than the width, the proa would, if unsupported, capsize instantly, but a hollow log or heavy-pointed spar rests on the water, parallel with the windward side, and, being secured in place, acts as an outrigger and removes the danger of overturning. The same name is applied to the boats used by the Malays, and which are propelled by both oars and sails.

But the one which greeted the astonished eyes of Storms and Bergen had its huge lateen sail spread, and was moving with great velocity, for the proas of the Indian and Pacific oceans are probably the fastest boats in the world. It rode the waters like a bird, and would soon enter the lagoon within the island, for there could be no doubt that the men on board had seen not only the signal, but the persons themselves who were waiting for them.

Inasmuch as a couple of men were discernible with the naked eye on the proa, it followed that the latter must descry the three individuals who were standing out in full view upon the shore of the island.

"How about this?" asked Captain Bergen, stepping to the side of his mate, and speaking in an undertone. "Shall we rejoice or not?"

"It's uncertain," was the dubious reply. "Those boats generally carry the vagabonds of the ocean, and the last motive which, as a rule, brings them to a spot like this is humanity."

"Where's your glass?"

"I declare, I never thought of that—I was so surprised!"

Storms carried it with him always, and he now brought it to bear upon the singular-looking craft approaching. It was so close inshore that, with the aid of the instrument, he was able to see everything distinctly, especially as the boat at that moment bore off a little and then headed toward the entrance again.

So far as could be ascertained, there were three persons on the boat, and the captain reached the same conclusion after using the glass.

"If that's the case," said Captain Bergen, "we haven't anything to fear from them, for, with our guns and ammunition, we can hold our own against a dozen South Sea Islanders."

"There may be others concealed about the craft, but I incline to think not. However, it's best to be prepared. So let's get to the house and make ready to receive them—whether they come as enemies or friends."

The suggestion was a prudent one, and the two men hurried up the beach in the direction of the cabin, while Inez remained to watch the proa. The men examined their rifles and saw they were loaded and ready for instant use, and then, bearing one apiece, they came forth again. As they did so, something like a shadow seemed to shoot through the trees, and, looking toward the lagoon, they saw the cause. The proa had entered the quiet waters within, and was coming to rest as gracefully as a sea gull stops in its flight.



CHAPTER XXVI

THE FLYING PROA AND ITS COMMANDER

The lateen sail of the proa descended with a rattle and bang, the man at the oar gave it several vigorous sweeps, and the strange-looking but astonishingly swift craft came to rest almost in the same position that the schooner Coral occupied three years before.

"Helloa, there! How are you? How long have you been here?"

When it is stated that this hail came from aboard the proa, it is unnecessary to say that our two friends were surprised, for they supposed that the visitors were natives, who at the best could not speak more than a few words of broken English.

This astonishment was turned to literal amazement when they saw that the speaker was a Caucasian like themselves, one of the two standing at the prow, and looking out upon them with a smiling countenance. There was no mistaking the ruddy, sunburned face, the curling hair, and the regular, European features of the young man, whose expanded smile showed a set of white, even teeth, and he seemed to enjoy their astonishment after hearing his words.

It was curious that they had failed to notice him before, inasmuch as his dress was dissimilar from the others, he having the usual tarpaulin hat and the broad trowsers of the American and English sailor. It was plain, too, that he was scarcely a man, being, in fact, a boy, who by some strange means was adrift in this part of the world.

As soon as the proa was within reach of land, the youth sprang ashore, and, walking straight up to Captain Bergen, extended his right hand to him and his left to Mr. Storms, shaking both warmly, while, as he spoke, he looked from the face of one to the other.

"How long have you been in this place? Judging from your clothes and looks, I should say about twenty years? Do you want to emigrate? Where are you from? What are your names? How came you here? My name is Fred Sanders, and I've been knocking about among the South Sea Islands for the last five years."

There was no resisting the jolly good-nature of the young man, who had a habit of laughing heartily, when no one else could see anything to laugh at, and whose high spirits always infected others with whom he came in contact. But it would not have required much study for any one to discover that he was a wild, reckless youth, who had probably run away from home, and taken to bad ways from a natural inclination in that direction.

While this interview was going on, Inez Hawthorne was absent, she having withdrawn at the suggestion of her friends, though of course the visitors knew of her presence, from having seen her on the beach.

Captain Bergen replied to the greeting of his friend:

"We have been here full three years. If I'm not mistaken, it is three years and two weeks this very Thursday."

"Then that's just where you are mistaken!" broke in Fred Sanders, with his ringing laugh, "for it so happens that to-day isn't Thursday, by a long shot!"

"Of course not," Mr. Storms hastened to say. "I don't know how many arguments I have had with the captain to prove he was wrong, and that this is Friday——"

And Fred threw back his head and roared louder than ever.

"It's a toss up between you. I don't wonder that you got muddled when you were forced to stay in such an outlandish place as this so long. I think I would have got mixed myself."

"Pray tell me what day of the week it is."

"This is Tuesday afternoon, with a half-dozen hours of daylight left to you yet."

While this brief conversation was going on, the two natives were upon the boat, waiting as if for permission to land. They sat as meekly as children, in a partly crouching position, intently watching, with their glittering black eyes, the three figures before them. They appeared to listen with absorbing attention to the words, as if they understood them—which they did not, excepting so far as they were interpreted by the vigorous gestures.

Inez Hawthorne, as we have stated, had withdrawn to the house, when requested to do so by her teacher, but her curiosity led her to step forth and look upon the parties and listen to the conversation—the distance being so short that she could hear all that was said. The natives saw her, and so did Fred Sanders, who occasionally glanced over the shoulders of the two men with whom he was talking, in a way which they understood. The visitors could not fail to be greatly interested in her, but Fred refrained for a time from referring to the girl.

Mate Storms explained that the craft in which they came to this portion of the world was wrecked, and that three of the crew were lost, and the captain, mate and a single passenger saved. Since then they had looked in vain for the coming of some friendly sail; plenty enough, however, having appeared, only to depart again and leave them in greater depths of gloom than before.

"Where are you from?" asked the captain, putting the question directly to the young man.

"I'm an American, born in New England, and am seventeen years old, and it is a long time since I have seen my home."

"How came you in this part of the world?"

"Why not here as well as anywhere else?" asked Fred Sanders, in reply. "I left home when I was only ten years of age, and have knocked about the world ever since."

"But you are now among the Paumotu Islands."

"Where I have been for a good while. Some time, perhaps, I will give you the whole history, but it is too long to tell now."

It was apparent, from the manner of the boy, that he wished to conceal some facts of his previous life, and neither the captain nor mate pressed him—for, in truth, it was of no special interest to them, their all-absorbing subject of mental anxiety being as to how they were to get away from the hated place.

"Where are you directly from?" asked Mr. Storms.

"From an island, the name of which I have never heard in English, though its native name is something like Wauparmur."

"Inhabited, of course?"

"Yes. There are four or five hundred natives and their families. The island is a dozen miles in extent, is very fertile, and has several native towns. At one place is a good harbor, and nearly always some foreign vessel is there. Sometimes I have seen three or more, and when I left, four days ago, a trading-ship from Boston had arrived."

"Oh!" exclaimed Abe Storms. "So near and yet so far!"

"I think it will probably stay a week longer, for they are doing a good trade with the islanders."

"You have awakened a hope that is really painful," said Captain Bergen, while the pale face of Mr. Storms showed he was affected fully as profoundly.

"I don't know why it need be painful," said the young man, in his off-hand manner, which was so captivating; "for we were going on a little cruise, when we caught sight of your signal flying, and we put in to find out what the trouble was."

"And are you willing to take us off?" asked Storms, who, while he felt the question was unnecessary, was still trembling with anxiety lest something should prevent their going.

"Will we take you off?" asked Fred, with a ringing laugh. "That's a pretty question to ask us, when we came for the express purpose of doing so. Of course, we'll take you straight away to the island we came from, and, of course, we'll put you in the way of getting back to Boston as soon as possible, and we only regret that we hadn't the chance to get here three years sooner, so as to save you this dreary waste of time."

Tears came to the eyes of both the men, and, as Captain Bergen took the hand of the youth, he said:

"We will thank you forever, and will pay you well."

It was an unfortunate speech, and the cooler-headed mate would never have uttered it.

It might result in no harm; but why let the reckless youth know that they possessed the ability to pay him well? It would be time enough to present him with some of their valuable pearls after reaching Wauparmur, when no possible complication could result from Sanders knowing that these two ragged sailors were very wealthy men. But the words had been said, and could not be recalled, though a vague uneasiness shot through the mind of Abe Storms when he saw a sudden flash of the dark eyes of the youth, who said, in the cheeriest of voices, slapping the captain on the shoulder with a vigor that staggered him:

"Who talks of paying one for doing his simple duty? If you or your friend repeats that insult, there will be war between us; and then—excuse me, but ain't you joking when you talk of paying well? For, begging pardon again, you don't look like millionaires with a very heavy bank account."

Storms trembled, but he could not restrain the captain.

"Of course, we wouldn't insult you, but you will be remembered; and though we are not very extravagant in the way of dress, and don't look like very wealthy men, yet I can promise you you shall be well recompensed, and, what is more, we can carry out the promise, too, in a way that will open your eyes."

Having uttered these compromising words, Captain Bergen laughed in a way which alarmed the mate still more; for there was a peculiarity in his friend's actions which he had never noticed before.

"I know we are dressed very poorly," added the captain, "and we wouldn't be very popular in a drawing-room, but if you set us down as poor men you will make a great mistake. Won't he, Abe—eh, boy?"

And he facetiously punched the astonished and grieved mate in the side, and danced about as if he had perpetrated the best joke of his life.

Just then Storms caught the eye of Fred Sanders, and he significantly tapped his own forehead to signify that the captain was not exactly right, mentally. And, when he did so, the kind-hearted mate spoke the truth.



CHAPTER XXVII

FRED SANDERS

Captain Bergen was so affected by the joyful awakening to the fact that his long, dismal sojourn on the lonely island in the Pacific had reached the end at last, and by the belief that now he would be carried as rapidly as wind and sail could take him to his beloved New England again, that his mind was unsettled and he behaved in a way that pained, as much as it astonished, his companion.

Inasmuch as such was the fact, Mr. Storms hoped that it would be accepted as an explanation of the strange utterances in which he had indulged, for he believed that the cupidity of the young man had already been excited, and a most unfortunate complication threatened.

"You will excuse the excitement of my friend," said he to Sanders, "though mine is nearly as great; but he had almost settled into the belief that we were doomed to perish in this desolate spot, and the reaction caused by your joyous tidings is too much for him."

"Oh, that's all right!" was the cheery response. "I understand how that is. But, begging pardon, I believe you have another companion?"

Fred looked so earnestly at the figure of Inez Hawthorne, standing a short distance off, that his meaning could not be mistaken.

"It is I who should beg your pardon," said Storms, in turn, beckoning to Inez to approach; "but we were so much interested in you that we forgot her for the time."

While the girl was approaching the group, Captain Bergen turned about, and without a word, walked slowly away in the direction of the cabin, his manner showing still more clearly than ever that his mind was unbalanced—a fact which caused Storms great discomfort. Aside from his love for the good, honest man, he saw that he had already imperiled, and was likely still further to imperil, their great possessions by his rambling, and yet significant, talk.

The pearls still lay some distance away, buried in the sand in their canvas bags, and must be procured before leaving the island.

Since the captain had already awakened suspicion respecting the truth, the difficulty of getting the prizes away without detection was immeasurably increased, while the likelihood of his making still further disclosures remained.

Storms was fearful that this sudden movement on the part of Bergen meant something of the kind, but the situation was such that he could not interfere, and all he could do during the few minutes remaining of the trying interview, was to keep a furtive watch, so far as possible, upon the movements of the captain.

"Mr. Sanders," said the mate, "this is Inez Hawthorne—a little girl who became a companion of ours through no fault of hers or of either of us. She has been here during the three years we have spent on the island, and though she has stood it so much better than we, she is fully as anxious to get away. Inez, this is Mr. Fred Sanders, who has come to take us off."

The handsome young fellow doffed his hat and bowed with a certain grace and deferential regard in his manner, which led Storms, who was narrowly watching him, to suspect that he was of high birth and had moved in good circles before he had made his debut in this strange part of the world. Inez possessed the same charming simplicity which had distinguished her in her earlier years, though she was more reserved, as was natural with her. She extended her hand to Sanders, who gave it a gentle pressure, while he said:

"When I saw the signal fluttering up there I suspected there were persons here who wanted help, but I never dreamed that we should find you."

"And why not me as well as any one else?" asked Inez, with a smile. "Is there any reason why I shouldn't have misfortune the same as other persons? If there is any such rule, I have never heard of it."

"I know of none; but shipwreck, as a general thing—and certainly in the case of your companions—has been a great injury to them. They look emaciated and ill, and the captain is surely injured in the mind. But you—why—well, never mind."

Fred laughed and broke down, for he really meant to say nothing that could be construed into flattery or impertinence. There was an air of goodness and refinement about the girl which compelled the respect, for the time at least, of the wild youth.

"I am so glad you have come," said Inez, without commenting upon his last words; "for though I have been as cheerful as I could, it has been mainly on account of the captain and Mr. Storms. I saw how dejected they were, and tried to cheer them as best I could."

"Which was very kind in you. But, thank heaven! it is all over now, and I hope we shall soon bear you away from this place, that no doubt has become so detestable in your eyes that you never want to see it again."

"I cannot say how dreadful it is and how much I dislike it. The ship which ought to have taken us away as it brought us, was broken to pieces on the beach, and the mutineers, who thirsted for our lives, were drowned when almost in reach, as may be said, of the shore."

Here was some more unexpected information that greatly interested Fred Sanders, who began to think he would get at all the facts by interviewing each member of the little company.

Mr. Storms heard the remark of Inez; but, while he regretted it—on the ground that it might raise some more uncomfortable suspicions—he did not care particularly, for the sad story was one that could easily be told, and upon which he was ready for cross-examination. But what more interested him at that moment was the fact that Captain Bergen just then reached the cabin, and, instead of stopping within, passed on beyond.

The conclusion of Storms was natural that he had gone to the upper part of the island to dig up the pearls; in which case, in his peculiar mental condition, he would, most likely, lose them all. This would never do, and the mate excused himself, saying:

"I am a little uneasy respecting the captain, and I will leave you two here while I look after him."

Fred Sanders saluted him, and told the truth when he said he would forgive his departure with pleasure; with which the ragged mate went hurrying after the ragged captain.

"Won't you step on board the proa for a little while?" asked Fred, who was rather tired of standing on the sand under the palm-trees. "As it is to be your dwelling-place for a few days, you may like to select your apartments."

Inez said she would be glad to do so, and Fred uttered some sharp exclamation, which caused both of the dusky natives to spring to their feet and hasten to the side of the proa nearest the shore, where they waited the chance to help her aboard. Inez noticed that the islanders were muscular, athletic fellows, with such a peculiar appearance that she could not avoid staring at them for a few seconds. Each was fully six feet in height—an unusual stature among the South Sea Islanders—and their breasts, arms and legs were tattooed with all sorts of figures and representations. Since these portions of their anatomy were uncovered, the singular ornamentation was very prominent.

They had the curious tattooing on their cheeks, noses and foreheads, so that their appearance was repellent. Besides this, their teeth were black, their noses large and flat, and their mouths wider than there was any necessity for. Their heads were bare, and, indeed, were furnished by nature with all the covering they could need. The hair was very long, but frizzly, so that as it curled up about their ears and crowns, it formed an immense bushy screen, which gave their heads prodigious size. Their hands and feet were very large, and it would have been hard, in short, to discover anything in their looks that could attract a person toward them. Surveying them dispassionately, one could not help suspecting they belonged to a tribe of cannibals.

However, Inez did not show any repulsion which she might have felt, but stepping close to the proa took the extended hand, and sprang lightly aboard of the strange craft. The natives immediately withdrew, leaving the young captain, as he appeared to be, to conduct the fair visitor around the "ship," whose dimensions did not require much time to investigate.

Fred explained that the proa was a vessel peculiar to the Indian and Central Pacific oceans, and that it could sail with great swiftness, going either forward or backward with equal readiness. It is a favorite boat used for inter-communication between hundreds of the islands of the South Seas, and the Malays employ them in a different form for their piratical expeditions. They owe their swiftness mainly to the fact that they stand so high out of the water, are very narrow, and present such a large surface to the wind.

"They are good for short voyages," said Fred, "but I shouldn't want to start for New York or Liverpool in one of them."

"How long will it take us to reach the island from which you came?" asked Inez.

"If we start early to-morrow morning, with a good wind, we ought to be there at the end of two days."

This was shorter time than he had given Mate Storms, but he was now striving to speak the truth.

"And suppose we are overtaken by one of those terrible tempests which sometimes visit this part of the world?"

"We cannot escape the risk, no matter where we are. The storm that would sink a proa might cause a seventy-four to founder, and the only way you can shun danger is to stay here all your life. I hardly think that such is your wish, Miss Inez."

"No; I am as anxious to leave as are Mr. Storms and the captain. Indeed, I think I am more so, for I understand that they expect to wait until to-morrow morning, while if I had my wish I would start this very hour."

"We are at the disposal of yourself and friends," Sanders courteously responded; "but the reason for delay is that thereby we expect to be compelled to spend but a single night on the voyage, while if we started now we should have two."



CHAPTER XXVIII

THE MATE BECOMES CAPTAIN

"Poor Jack!" murmured Abe Storms, hastening after him. "I have been fearing this very thing. He has taken the matter more to heart than I, and there has been a look in his eye in the last few weeks which showed he was not right; but I thought, when he found he was going back to his home again, he would almost instantly regain his mental equipoise.

"But it has operated the other way, and I shouldn't wonder if he is as wild as a loon. When we get him away, dress him up, change his food, and give him a sight of a Boston vessel, he will be sure to come around; but, he has said too much already.

"I wonder what sort of a fellow that Fred Sanders is?" added Storms, whose intellect seemed to be sharpened by the same cause which overturned that of the captain. "I would be glad to trust him fully, but somehow, I can't. While he is courteous and kind—and, no doubt, means to carry us all to the inhabited island, where we shall be able to take care of ourselves—there is something about him that awakens distrust. The fact of his having been five years, as he says, in these South Sea Islands, shows that all is not right, which is confirmed by his dislike of saying anything about his earlier history.

"The best thing in his favor is his youth, and yet," continued Storms, thoughtfully, "that, after all, may be the worst. It would seem that he is too young to have done a great deal of evil; and yet, if he has committed many transgressions, it is a woful record for such a lad. It was too bad that the captain hinted that we have so much means, and he wouldn't have done it had he been in his right mind; but it has produced an effect upon Sanders, as I could see by the flash of his eyes, and the apparently indifferent questions he asked afterwards.

"But we have saved our ammunition," muttered Storms, a minute later, compressing his lips; "and I know how to use my revolver, and it is only for a short time that I shall have to maintain watch."

While Abe Storms was talking to himself in this fashion, he had his eye on the captain, who was walking slowly toward that portion of the island where the pearls had been concealed so carefully, and there could be no doubt of his errand. He did not hear the soft footstep behind him, which was so regulated that it came up with him just as the latter paused at the all-important spot.

The captain first looked out to sea, and then behind him, catching sight, as he did so, of the smiling countenance of his mate—so far as his countenance could be seen through the wealth of beard.

"Hello! What are you doing here?" asked the captain, in a voice which showed some perplexity, if not displeasure.

"What are you doing here?" asked Storms, in turn, slapping him familiarly on the shoulder. "I suppose we came upon the same errand, as we are so soon to leave for home. The pearls are buried here, and we must carry them away with us."

"How do you know that's what I came for, Abe?"

"I'm only saying I suspect it's your business. I know it's mine."

Captain Bergen was a little bewildered by the sharp manner in which the good-natured mate caught him up, and, while he seemed to be debating with himself what to say, Storms took his arm and led him a short distance off, and, seating him on the beach, said:

"There's no hurry about the business, Jack, for we won't start until to-morrow morning at daylight, so as to have as few nights on the voyage as possible, and we had better decide on the proper course for us to take."

"That is correct," replied the captain, assenting so quietly that his friend hoped he would remain easily manageable.

"You remember, Jack, that when we buried the pearls there, we divided them—your half is in a strong canvas bag, so packed that they won't rub together, or make any noise; and mine are in another sack. The single pearl which belongs to Inez is also carefully covered; and now we must manage to get away with them, without letting Sanders know they are in our possession."

"What do you want to do that for?" demanded the captain, turning fiercely upon the mate. "I like that fellow. He's going to put me on a ship and send me back to Boston; and any one who does that does me a service worth more than all the pearls in the world. I am going to give him all mine, and I hope Inez will do the same. I shall do my best to persuade her, and if you don't, Abe, you and I are deadly enemies, and I'll kill you the first chance!"

Storms showed his shrewdness by the manner in which he managed the poor fellow.

"That's all right, Jack," he replied, assuming a look and expression of anger, as he glared upon the lunatic, well aware that he must make him afraid of him. "If it's any fun for you to talk in that style, I'll let you do it once, but don't you try it again. Did I ever tell you about those sixteen persons that I killed up in New Hampshire before we started out with the Coral?"

"No!" gasped the captain, looking at him with awe.

"Well, I won't tell you now," said the mate, with the same frightful earnestness, "for it would make you feel too bad. If they hadn't made me mad, I wouldn't have killed them, and I'll let up on you if you do not say anything of the kind again. If you do, I'll get mad, Jack."

"By the great horn spoon!" exclaimed the alarmed captain, "I'll let the matter drop, if you will."

"All right," said the mate, relenting somewhat. "And, mind you, don't you go to talking to Sanders about it. Don't you tell him another thing, and never mention the word pearls."

"I won't—I won't!" was the meek rejoinder of poor Captain Bergen, who had been completely cowed by the fierceness of his mate.

"I'm an awful man when my wrath is roused!" Abe Storms thought it best to add; "and it was just rising to the boiling-point when you were lucky enough to take back your foolish expression."

"What are we going to do now?" asked the captain, apparently anxious to turn the current of conversation into a more agreeable channel.

"We'll go back and make ready to leave on the proa. We have considerable to do before we depart. There are a number of things in the cabin that we must carry with us."

"Yes, that's so; I forgot that. But, Abe—don't you get mad!—what about them?"

"Just never you mind," replied the mate with an important wave of the hand. "I'll attend to them."

"All right. I was afraid you would forget 'em!"

It pained Storms to tyrannize over his superior officer in this fashion, but stern necessity compelled him to become the real captain. The intention of the mate when he first followed his friend was to dig up the pearls and give him his share, but he saw that that would never do. It would precipitate a tragedy to allow the lunatic any option in the matter. So, without any further reference to the pearls, the two rose to their feet and walked slowly back in the direction of the proa, talking on no particular subject, since the mate was desirous of diverting the mind of the captain as much as possible.

The discoveries of the next few minutes did not serve to lighten the apprehension of Storms, for when he reached the proa the two islanders seemed to be enjoying a siesta, while neither Fred Sanders nor Inez was in sight.

Suspecting what was wanted, one of the natives roused up and pointed toward the sea, jabbering some odd words, which could not be understood, but which Storms concluded were meant to indicate the direction taken by the couple.

"That's almost the path to the spot where we were," he thought, as he turned and walked away, holding the arm of the captain within his own.

Sure enough, they had not gone far when they caught sight of Fred and Inez sitting on the beach, just as if they were at some fashionable seaside resort in summer time, and were chattering no particular sense at all. Storms noticed that the place was such as to command a view of that where he and the captain had held their conversation, and where their precious possessions were buried.

"I wonder whether that was done on purpose?" he thought. "It may be he meant nothing, but I fear he took Inez along merely to hide the fact that he was playing the spy upon us."

It was not pleasant to believe this, and yet the suspicion was rooted pretty firmly in the mind of the mate, who, perhaps, was becoming over-suspicious.

"Ah, how are you?" asked Sanders, with a laugh, changing his lounging to the sitting position. "I conducted Miss Inez over the proa, so as to make her acquainted with the craft, as you may say, and since that didn't take long, we thought we would try a little stroll down here, where we could have a talk without those natives staring at us. How is your friend?" asked the young man, suddenly lowering his voice to such a sympathetic key that Storms felt guilty for the moment for ever having suspected him capable of wrong.

"I'm a little uneasy about him," was the reply, as both glanced at the captain, who sat down beside Inez and began talking to her, "for he seems to have broken up all at once. He was such a strong man, just in the prime of vigorous manhood, that it would hardly be supposed he would give away so suddenly."

"I think he will soon recover, for the change will be so radical, and the awakened hope so strong, that he will be sure to rally in the course of a few days."

"I hope so," was the response, "but he must be watched very carefully."



CHAPTER XXIX

FAREWELL TO THE ISLAND

The weather remained enchanting. The tropical heat was tempered by the ocean breeze, which stole among the palms, and across the island, and where the crew, and those who had lived there so long, lounged in the shadow, or sauntered in the sunshine, when the orb sank low in the western sky.

It was curious that now, after the coming of the proa, when no other help was needed, the signal at the masthead, as it may be called, seemed to have acquired an unusual potency; for, on two separate occasions during the afternoon, the island was approached by vessels, who were given to understand that the parties on shore were provided for. Mate Storms, now the captain, very much doubted whether he did a wise thing in declining this proffered assistance, but the main reason for doing so was the fact that the pearls were still buried, and he knew of no way of getting them without discovery.

One of the ships was a Dutch one, from Java, and the other was British, bound for Ceylon—neither very desirable, as they would have compelled a long, roundabout voyage home. But Storms would have accepted the offer of one on account of his distrust of the young man, Fred Sanders, but for the reason given.

Captain Bergen, after the "setting back" given him by Storms, became quiet and tractable, and stayed almost entirely with Inez, for whom he showed the greatest affection. Since she was tenderly attached to him, and sympathized in his affliction, this kept the two together almost continually—an arrangement which it was plain to see was not agreeable to Fred Sanders, though he was too courteous to make any mention of it.

During the afternoon such goods as were deemed necessary were transferred to the proa, which lay at anchor in the lagoon. These were not very numerous or valuable, and consisted mostly of garments which Storms had manufactured for Inez.

When night came, after a meal had been eaten on shore close to where the proa lay, it was arranged that Sanders should sleep on board with his crew—if two men might be termed such—while the others should stay in their cabin, as was their wont.

Storms contrived this on the plea that his companion, the captain, would be more tractable. His real purpose was to gain a chance to secure the pearls unnoticed. The young man made not the slightest objection to the plan, for he had too good sense to do so; nor did his silence in that respect lull the suspicions of Storms himself.

"I wish there was not such a bright moon," said the mate to himself, not far from midnight, "for I need all the quiet and darkness I can get; and I don't see any use of waiting longer," he added.

Captain Bergen had been sleeping quietly for several hours, while the silence in the apartment of Inez showed that she, too, was wrapped in slumber, and possibly dreaming of far-away scenes, of which her memory was so misty and indistinct.

As to those upon the proa, everything must necessarily be conjecture; but, in the middle of the night, with his senses on the alert, and his imagination excited, Abe Storms conjured up all sorts of fancies and suspicions. There were many times when he believed that these men, including the boyish leader, were the worst kind of pirates, who were only waiting the chance to secure the pearls, when they would either desert or treacherously slay them. But, since meditation and idleness could avail nothing, he rose from his couch upon the floor, and, making sure that his loaded revolver was in place, he stole out from among the palm trees, and began moving in the direction of the spot where his treasures lay hid.

He did this with the utmost precaution, glancing in every direction at each step, frequently pausing and changing the course he was pursuing, and, in short, doing everything he could think of to prevent detection. The full moon rode high in an almost unclouded sky, and the air was as charming as that of Italy. The solemn roar of the ocean and the irregular boom of the long, immense swells breaking against the shore and sending the thin sheets of foam sliding swiftly up the bank, were the only sounds that greeted his ears.

"That is wonderful!" exclaimed the searcher, for all at once he descried a ship, under full sail, seemingly within two hundred yards of shore. "If these parties hadn't arrived to-day this craft wouldn't have come within a score of miles of us."

The ship looked like a vast bird, when with all sail set and her black hull careening to one side under the wind, she drove the foaming water away from her bows, and sped forward as if pursuing or fleeing from some enemy.

Whether the watch saw the signal of distress in the moonlight, cannot be known, but the vessel speedily passed on, and vanished in the night, while Mate Storms, recalling his thoughts, and seeing no one near him, moved directly to where he had deposited his riches such a long time before, and to which he only made an occasional visit.

He had advanced too far to retreat, whether he was seen or not, and he stooped down and began digging with his hands and sheath-knife. It was only a short distance, when he struck something, and a moment after drew up a small, strong canvas bag. Soon came another, and then a smaller one, which contained the wonderful pearl that belonged to Inez Hawthorne. They were all there, and had not been disturbed.

"Now, it only remains to keep these in my possession," was his thought, as he straightened up and started to return. "I would give half of them if they were at home and safe in the bank—Hello!"

Perhaps the vision of the sailor was unusually keen just then, for when he paused with a start he caught sight of a shadowy figure, which seemed to glide, without any effort of its own, over the sand, and immediately disappeared among the palm trees. There was something so peculiar in its movements that Abe was chilled with awe as he stood still and watched it for the few seconds it remained in view. But there could be no doubt of its identity. It was Fred Sanders, who had been on the watch, and who must have seen the mate dig up the treasures, and knew they were now in his possession.

Storms was in anything but a comfortable frame of mind while walking thoughtfully back to the cabin, which he entered.

"What more likely than that he will steal up here in the night, believing I am asleep, and try to shoot me? Well, if he does so, he shall find me prepared for him, anyway."

The first proceeding of the mate was to deposit the pearls contained in the three diminutive canvas sacks in a small valise, which he had carefully preserved all through the years, and which now held a few necessities that he meant to take away with him. The addition of these precious contents taxed the receptacle to its fullest capacity, but, after all, this was the best thing to do, and he believed he would be able to keep it under his eye during the comparatively short time they would be on the voyage to Wauparmur Island.

It may be said, indeed, that there was nothing else to be done, which rendered it unfortunate that he could not secure a few hours' sleep before venturing away in the proa. But the nerves of the mate were too unstrung by his position to feel easy, and he placed himself by the opening of the cabin, with his hand upon the weapon, prepared to watch until daylight.

As might have been supposed, in spite of his uneasiness, he gradually became drowsy, and it was not long before his head sank on his breast, and he, too, was asleep. It was well he did so, for he gained the rest so necessary, and as it was, he might have slept longer had he not been awakened by outside causes.

Captain Bergen slept on, but Inez was on her feet at an early hour, and seeing that Storms was unconscious, she passed out without disturbing him, and made her way to the spring, where she always performed her morning ablutions.

It was natural that the mate, going to sleep as he did, with his mind filled with the most dismal of fancies, should find his slumbers visited by horrible phantasies. He was struggling with the figure of a man, who had the face of Fred Sanders, and they were bearing each other over an immense cliff, when his opponent got the upper hand, and, holding him suspended for the moment, began to laugh at his calamity. The laugh grew louder, until it awoke the startled sleeper, who, opening wide his eyes, saw the veritable figure of Fred Sanders before him, laughing as heartily as he had been doing in the struggle in sleep.

"Mercy! where's the valise?" gasped the bewildered Storms, clutching at the receptacle which lay at his side. "I thought you had stolen it——"

Just then the quick-witted sailor recalled his situation, and he, too, broke into mirth, in which there was not much heartiness.

"What a curious dream I had, Sanders! I really believe I have been asleep!"

"And what is strange about that, since a full night has passed since we last met? I hope you have had a good rest, even though your awaking was not so pleasant."

Abe Storms was excessively chagrined, for his very action, when aroused so unexpectedly, would, of itself, have turned suspicion to the satchel, which he snatched up like a startled miser. This action, united with what Captain Bergen had said, and with what the young man himself had witnessed the preceding night, could not have failed to tell him that that rusty-looking valise—about which the owner was so careful—contained a great amount of wealth in some form.

But what of it?

This was the question Storms put to himself as he sprang up and called to Inez—who immediately appeared—and began the preparation for the last meal they expected to eat upon the detested island.

Captain Bergen was quiet and thoughtful, but the others were in high spirits.

The two natives made their meal on board the proa, where they stolidly awaited the coming of the passengers, the "baggage" having been transferred the day before. And the sun was no more than fairly above the horizon when the proa started on her eventful voyage to Wauparmur Island—a voyage destined to be marked by events of which no one on board dreamed.



CHAPTER XXX

ON THE FLYING PROA

At last the friends who had been left on Pearl Island three years before, and whose hearts had been bowed with despair more than once, saw the atoll gradually fade from view, until the top of the tallest palm-tree dipped out of sight in the blue Pacific and vanished from view forever.

"It seems hardly possible," said Abe Storms, when at last his straining vision could detect no shadow of the spot, "that we have been rescued. I'm so full of joy and hope at the prospect before me that it is hard work to restrain myself from shouting and jumping overboard."

"What is your idea in jumping overboard?" asked Sanders, with a laugh, in which Inez Hawthorne joined.

"Merely to give expression to my exuberance of joy; after I should cool off, I would be cooler, of course."

Captain Bergen, to the grief of his friends, showed no signs of mental improvement, though his hallucination took a different form. Instead of being talkative, like he was the day before, he became reserved, saying nothing to any one, not even to answer a simple question when it was put to him. He ensconced himself at the stern in such a position that he was out of the way of the man with the steering oar, where he curled up like one who wished neither to be seen nor heard.

"Humor his fancies," said Sanders, "for it will only aggravate him to notice them. It was the same with Redvignez and Brazzier that I was speaking about last night."

"Redvignez and Brazzier?" repeated Inez; "where did you ever see them?"

"I sailed a voyage with them once from Liverpool, and I was telling Mr. Storms last night that I saw them both so frightened without cause that their minds were upset for a while. And may I ask whether you know them?" asked the young man, with a flush of surprise, addressing the girl.

"Why, they and a negro, Pomp, were the three mutineers who were the means of our staying on the island. They tried to kill the captain and mate, but——"

"She saved us," broke in Storms, who thereupon gave the narrative told long ago to the reader, omitting the attempt that was made upon his own life by cutting the hose-pipes which let the air down to him, inasmuch as that would have caused the telling of the pearl fishing also.

Fred Sanders listened with great interest, for he had known the men well, and it may as well be stated that the danger to which the scoundrels were exposed, as referred to by him, was that of being executed for mutiny; and, as it was, the part of Sanders himself was such that he would have been strung up at the yard-arm in short order had it not been his extreme youth, which pleaded in his favor.

Since Storms and his companions had revealed some things that might have been better concealed, so Fred Sanders himself felt he had hinted at a little story which was likely to injure his standing in the eyes of those toward whom he was playing the part of the good Samaritan.

The proa was arranged as comfortably as possible, Inez Hawthorne being given a place in front, where a sort of compartment was made for her, by means of stretching awnings of cocoa-matting and a portion of the reserve fund of lateen on hand. The others disposed themselves so that she was left undisturbed whenever she chose to withdraw to her "state room," as Captain Fred Sanders facetiously termed it.

The two natives had little to say, and they obeyed orders like the veritable slaves they were. There could be no doubt they understood the management of the proa to perfection, and the strange craft spun through the water with astonishing speed.

Mr. Storms deposited his valise, with its valuable contents, forward, where he seemed to bestow little attention on it, though, as may well be supposed, it was ever present in his thoughts, and quite often in his eye.

Several times in the course of the day they caught sight of sails in the distance, but approached none; for, as Sanders said, the all-important thing now was to make the most speed possible, while the opportunity remained to them. There was a freshening of the breeze and a haziness which spread through the northern horizon that caused some misgiving on the part of all, for the proa would be a poor shelter in case they were overtaken by one of those terrific tempests they had seen more than once.

Toward the middle of the afternoon something like a low bank of clouds appeared to the left, or in the west, which, being scrutinized through the glasses, proved to be a low-lying island. Sanders knew of it, and said they passed it still closer on their way to the atoll.

It was also an atoll like that, but much smaller in size, and, of course, uninhabited. It might do for a refuge in case of the coming of a violent storm, while in the vicinity; but otherwise it would only be a loss of time to pause at it. The fact that such a place existed so near them caused something like a feeling of security upon the part of Mate Storms, such as comes over one on learning he has a good friend at his elbow in face of some coming trouble.

As the afternoon advanced, and the proa bounded forward before a strong, steady breeze, Storms thought the occasion a good one to obtain some sleep, with a view of keeping awake during the coming night, and he assumed an easy position, where, his mind being comparatively free from apprehension, he soon sank into slumber.

This left Inez Hawthorne with no one to talk to excepting Fred Sanders, who seemed in better spirits than usual. When they had discussed the voyage, and he had given her as good an account as he could of the island toward which they were hastening, and after she had answered all his questions as best she could, she turned upon him and asked:

"How long did you say you had spent in these islands?"

"As nearly as I can recollect, it is about five years."

"And, as you are now seventeen, you must have been only twelve years old when you first came here."

"That agrees with my figuring," said Sanders, with a nod of his head. "You can't be far out of the way."

"Where did you live before that?"

"Well, I lived in a good many places—that is, for two years. I was on the Atlantic and on the Pacific and—well, it would take me a good long while to tell of all that I passed through. I may as well own up to you, Inez, that it was a wild, rough life for a man, even without taking into account the fact that I was a boy."

"Then you went to sea when you were only ten years old?"

"That also coincides with my mathematical calculations," replied Sanders, somewhat embarrassed, for he saw they were approaching delicate ground.

"Then before you were ten years of age?"

"I lived at home, of course."

"And where was that?"

"You will excuse me, Inez, from answering that question. I have reasons for doing so. Let me say that I stayed at home for the first ten years of my existence, and was as bad a boy as can be imagined. I fell into the worst kind of habits, and it was through the two men—Redvignez and Brazzier—whom I've heard you speak of, that I was persuaded to go to sea with them, when I ought to have been at home with my father."

"Is your mother living, Mr. Sanders?"

The youth turned his head away, so she could not see his face, and when he moved it back and spoke again there was a tear on his cheek, and he replied, in a voice of sadness:

"My mother is in heaven, where her son will never be."

Inez was inexpressibly shocked.

"Why, Mr. Sanders, what do you mean by that?"

"A better woman than she never lived, nor a worse boy than I. You can't understand, Inez. You are too young and too good yourself to realize what a wretch I was. I deliberately ran away from home seven years ago, and have never been within a thousand miles of it since, and I never expected to do so, until within the last day or so; somehow or other, I've fallen to thinking more than before."

"Have you a father?"

"I don't know. I think he is dead, too, for I was enough to break his heart, and I have never heard of him since. I hadn't any brothers or sisters when I came away. I'm all that's left, and now there is a longing coming over me to hunt up my father again before he dies, that is—if—he—isn't—already—gone!"

It was no use. Fred Sanders, the wild, reckless youth, who had passed through many a scene that would have made a man shudder, suddenly put his hands to his face, and his whole frame shook with emotion. The memories of his early childhood came back to him, and he saw again the forms of those who loved him so fondly, and whose affection he returned with such piercing ingratitude. Conscience had slept for many years, but the gentle words of Inez had awakened its voice again. The goodness of the girl, who was already like a loved sister to Sanders, had stirred up the better part of his nature, and he looked upon himself with a shudder, that one so young as he should have committed his many transgressions.

No wonder that he felt so pressed down that he cried out in the bitterness of his spirit that heaven was shut from him. It was hard for Inez to keep back the sympathizing tears herself when she witnessed the overwhelming grief of the strong youth.

The latter sat silent for some minutes, holding his face partly averted, as if ashamed of this evidence of weakness—an evidence which it is safe to say he had not shown for years, young as he was.

Ah, there were memories that had slumbered long which came crowding upon the boy—memories whose import no one on board that strange craft could suspect but himself, and whose work was soon to appear in a form and with a force that neither Inez Hawthorne nor Mate Storms so much as dreamed of.



CHAPTER XXXI

A STRANGE CRAFT

"I tell you a boy who uses his mother bad is sure to suffer for it some time. I've seen so many cases that I know there's such a law that governs the whole world. I thank heaven that I never brought a tear to my mother's eyes."

The speaker was Captain Bergen, who was talking to Fred Sanders while the two sat together on the proa, near midnight succeeding the conversation mentioned between Inez and the youth Fred.

The latter might have believed, as he had jocosely remarked, that he had captured a small party of missionaries, who were making a dead set at him; but his feelings had been touched in a most tender manner, and he had done more thinking during the last few hours than in all his previous life.

The only one on the proa who was on duty was Fred, who held the steering-oar in place, while the curiously-shaped vessel sped through the water. The sea was very calm and the wind so slight that they were in reality going slower than at any previous time, and the task of guiding the boat was hardly a task at all.

Fred sat looking up at the stars half the time, with his memory and conscience doing their work. His two men had lain down, and were asleep, for they were regular in all their habits, and he had seen nothing of Inez since she had withdrawn to her "apartment."

Mate Storms kept up a fragmentary conversation with the young captain until quite late, when he withdrew, and Fred was left with himself for fully two hours, when Mr. Bergen crept softly forth and took a seat near him, even getting in such a position that he would have been very much in the way had any emergency arisen. The captain was disposed to talk—somewhat to Fred's dislike—for he was in that mood when he desired to be alone; but he was also in a more gracious and charitable temper than usual, and he answered the old captain quite kindly.

"You've a good deal to be thankful for," said he, in reply to the remark above given. "But my mother has been in heaven for many a year."

"She is fortunate, after all," said the captain, with a sigh, and a far-away look over the moonlit sea.

"Yes, a great deal more fortunate than her son will ever be."

"It all depends on you, young man," said the captain, severely. "Heaven is reached step by step, and there's no one who cannot make it. If you haven't started in the right direction, now's the time to do so."

Fred Sanders may have assented to this, but he was silent, and he, too, looked off over the sea as if his thoughts were running in a new and unaccustomed channel. "My mother must be a very old woman by this time," added the captain, after a minute or more of silence, during which nothing but the rushing of the water was heard.

"How old is she?" asked Fred.

"She must be close on to eighty; and I think she's dead, for she was very feeble when I saw her, three years ago, in San Francisco. But I'm going to see her very soon; yes, very soon—very soon."

"It's a long way to 'Frisco," ventured Fred, mildly; "but I hope you will have a quick voyage."

"I am not going to wait till we get there."

"How are you going to manage it, then?"

"This way. I'm coming, mother!"

And Captain Jack Bergen sprang overboard and went out of sight.

"Heavens! what was that?" exclaimed Mate Storms, leaping forward from where he had been dozing upon his couch.

"The captain has jumped overboard!" was the horrified reply of Fred Sanders, who was bringing the proa around as fast as he could.

Without another word, Mate Storms made a bounding plunge after him, leaving the young captain to manage the craft as best he could. The latter uttered a sharp command which brought the crew to their feet in an instant, and, in an incredibly short space of time, the proa came around, and, scarcely losing any headway, moved back toward the spot where the demented man had sprung into the sea, which was now a long distance astern.

It was a startling awaking for Abram Storms, who did his utmost for his unfortunate captain. The mate was a splendid swimmer, and, plunging forward with a powerful stroke, he called to his friend again and again, frequently lifting himself far out of the water, when on the crest of a swell, and straining his eyes to pierce the moonlight about him, hoping to catch sight of the figure of the captain, who was also a strong swimmer. But if he had jumped overboard with the intention of suicide, it was not to be supposed he would continue swimming. The mate, however, was hopeful that in that awful minute when he went beneath the waters, something like a realizing sense of what he had done would come to him and he would struggle to save himself.

But, alas, for poor Captain Jack Bergen, who had journeyed so many thousand miles, and had endured such a long imprisonment upon a lonely island! He sent back no answering shout to the repeated calls of his mate, whose eyes failed to catch sight of his gray head as he rose and sank for a brief while on the water.

When Fred Sanders got the proa about he guided its movements by the sound of the mate's voice, and, in a short while, he ran alongside and assisted him on board. Nothing had been seen nor heard of the captain, and there could be no doubt now that he was gone forever. Nevertheless, the proa continued cruising around the place for fully an hour, in widening circles, until all were convinced that not a particle of hope remained, when they filled away again, and a long, last farewell was uttered to Captain Jack Bergen.

He had procured a fortune in a comparatively easy manner, and it looked for a time as if the payment was small; but the price demanded now was his life, and what more can a man give, excepting his soul?—which, most happily, was not the case with him.

During these minutes of excitement, Inez Hawthorne slept soundly, and she never knew anything of the sad occurrence until the morrow was well advanced. Her grief prostrated her for many hours, for she was a child unusually affectionate by nature, and she had been tenderly attached to the captain, who had been such a father to her.

It spread a gloom over the boat, as may be said, the only ones who showed no sorrow in their countenances being the dusky islanders, who seemed to take everything as it came along as a matter of course, and who obeyed the Caucasian captain like so many machines under the control of an engineer.

Fred Sanders was thoughtful, and, what was rather curious, had little to say to Inez during the first portion of the day. He uttered a few words of sympathy when she sought to restrain her tears, but after that he kept very much to himself, as if there was some new and important matter on his mind, as was indeed the case.

It will be remembered that the expectation was that the voyage of the proa would terminate that night by their arrival at their destination, but the delay caused by the moderate wind and the search for the lost captain led Mate Storms to feel some doubt, and he asked Captain Sanders his view of the matter.

"I can't tell you anything about it!"

It was not these words alone, so much as the abrupt manner, which set the mate somewhat back. He had received nothing of the kind from the youth since their meeting, and it astonished him.

A hot reply rose to the lips of Abe Storms, but he suppressed it and moved away.

"I wonder whether he doesn't feel soured at the thought that the death of the captain will prevent his getting such a large reward for his services?" said the mate to himself, who, after thinking over the matter for a few minutes longer, reached a conclusion. "We expected to reach Wauparmur Island to-night, before dark. We shall be late, but, as it is, I shall have no trouble in keeping awake the rest of the voyage, and I've little fear that I will not be able to protect my property as well as myself."

With this, he moved back to the youth, and said, in a cheery voice:

"You recall, sir, that poor Captain Bergen made some promises to you about rewarding you liberally for your services. My friend was a little wild in what he said, but he was right when he declared we had the means, and I wish simply to say that his wishes and intentions in that respect, which accorded with my own from the start, shall be carried out to the letter."

Mr. Storms immediately joined Inez, while the captain made no reply, much to the discomfiture of the mate, who said to Inez:

"What's the matter with Sanders?"

"He is watching an object over the sea yonder. He has been expecting to discover something, and he has caught sight of it at last."

The mate instantly produced his glasses, and leveled them in the direction the young captain was looking.

There was something, indeed.

As revealed by the instrument, it was what might be termed a double canoe, or proa—that is, two narrow canoes were joined together, side by side, and connected by a sort of framework, while an enormous lateen sail towered above them, and carried it forward with remarkable speed.

The surprised mate carefully scrutinized the strange craft, and saw that it contained a large crew, there being, as he estimated, fully twenty men on board. It was to the westward of the smaller proa, and like that was pursuing almost a northerly course, though the experienced eyes of the sailor told him that the paths of the two were converging, and that, unless changed, they undoubtedly would meet before nightfall.

The double canoe was about two miles distant, and as it rose on the crest of a swell the glass revealed the white foam which curled away from the bows, and there could be no doubt of its remarkable swiftness.

After watching this strange craft for a few minutes, Mr. Storms devoted some time to a furtive but careful study of the face of Fred Sanders, who was on the most elevated portion of the proa, and was carefully noting the course of the two vessels.

The alarming conclusion reached by Abram Storms was that the other craft contained a gang of pirates; that Fred Sanders knew them, and he was guiding his own proa by an understanding previously had with them.

And Abram Storms was right.



CHAPTER XXXII

A FRIEND AMONG ENEMIES

The double canoe, with its cumbersome lateen sail and its crew of twenty-odd pirates, had stolen down from somewhere among the Paumotu Islands, and was now gradually approaching the proa which contained Abram Storms and Inez Hawthorne.

The experience of the preceding few years, and especially of the last day or two, had given Mr. Storms an astonishing acuteness, which enabled him often to detect the truth without difficulty. The strong suspicion he now formed was that Fred Sanders was expecting the appearance of the craft, and that he was guiding his own proa in accordance with some prearranged plan. This was an alarming conclusion to reach, but Storms felt hardly a particle of doubt that he was right.

"He intends to betray us, and has intended to do so from the first."

The New Englander took another look at the double canoe, and he saw, even in the few minutes that had passed, that they were closer together. And now that his suspicions were aroused, he detected several other little things which only confirmed all that had entered his mind. The two islanders who composed the crew were continually glancing off at their brothers, and frequently spoke in low tones, and showed by the gleam of their swarthy faces that they were on the tip-toe of expectation.

From one corner of the lateen sail, Storms now noticed that a large crimson handkerchief was fluttering in the wind.

"It is put there as a signal," was the decision respecting that, "and doubtless signifies that they have us on board and all is going right."

Fred Sanders was so occupied with this business that he never once suspected that he himself was being watched in turn.

"Inez," said the mate, "go to the captain and speak a few words to him."

"But he is so occupied that he will not wish to be disturbed."

"Never mind about that; I wish you to go and say a few pleasant words to him. Let them be sympathetic."

"What shall I say?"

"I can give you no further directions."

"I am loth to do so, but if you wish it——"

"I wish it very much."

That was enough, and the girl, with some natural hesitation of manner, advanced to the young captain, who did not notice her until she was at his elbow.

"Good-day, Captain Fred," she said; "you have been busy so long that you must be tired, for you slept none last night."

He looked toward her with a quick, curious expression. There was a half-smile on his face, while his forehead was wrinkled with displeasure. Inez noticed this, and would have withdrawn had she not recalled the strange earnestness with which Storms made the request for her to utter a few pleasant words to the youth. She therefore determined to carry out his wishes.

"Can't we relieve you of your work?" continued she.

Sanders was in reality doing nothing in the way of physical labor, since the steering oar was in the hands of one of the crew, but he was absorbed in "watching things," as the expression goes.

"I am sure there is no way in which you can relieve me," said Fred, unbending somewhat from his reserve.

"We are in such deep water, and the wind is so fair, that there can be no danger, I suppose. But tell me, what sort of a boat is that yonder which is pursuing nearly the same course with us?"

"That—I presume," was the hesitating response, as the young man glanced in that direction, "is one of the double canoes or proas which are often seen among these islands."

"And who are the crew?"

"Islanders, like my own."

"Are we going to meet them?"

"I hardly know what to answer to that," said Fred, looking inquiringly toward the large proa again, as if he had not seen it before.

"Well, Captain Sanders, they must be pirates," said Inez, stepping close to him, and speaking in a low, tremulous voice; "but whether they are or not, my faith in God and in you cannot be changed. I know you will do all you can for us——"

"There! there!" protested the young captain, with an expression of pain on his face, "say no more. Please go away, Inez, and leave me alone."

"Of course I will leave you, if you do not wish me here, but gratitude would not let me keep silent. I know, from what you said last night, that you have a good heart, and henceforth conscience is to be your master and guide."

And without looking to see the effect of her words, Inez left the captain to his own thoughts.

Abram Storms, with folded arms, was intently watching him, and he carefully studied his countenance. He was still doing so, when Inez turned her back upon Sanders. Mr. Storms noted the strange expression on the handsome countenance, and just then Sanders turned and looked straight at the man before the latter could withdraw his gaze. As their eyes met, he signaled to Storms to approach, and the latter, with no little wonderment and some misgiving, did so.

"Mr. Storms," said he, "that double canoe off yonder has twenty-three pirates on board."

"I suspected as much," coolly replied the other.

"And a set of worse villains cannot be found in the South Seas."

"I am sure you are quite right."

"These two men that I have on board belong to the same crew."

"Indeed! I hadn't thought of that."

"I belong to the same gang."

"I suspected that!"

"You did, eh? Did you suspect that I was in the plot to obtain possession of your pearls?"

"I did not suspect it; I was sure of it, which is why I have carried my loaded revolver with me."

"That wouldn't have defeated the plan we had laid, for when twenty-three odd savages, with their spears, war-clubs and a few muskets, had stolen up to the island in the darkness, and crept silently into your cabin, what good would your guns and revolvers have done you?"

"Was that the plan?"

"That was it precisely. By some means or other, which I never could understand, rumors reached Wauparmur, months ago, that two men and a child were on an island to the south of us, and that they had an immense lot of the most valuable pearls. I cannot comprehend how it was the natives gained such knowledge, for it must have had some basis of truth, inasmuch as it proved to be true."

"There was a proa which passed close to the island while we were opening the pearl-oysters," said Storms. "We all saw it."

"The rumor came from them, then," continued Sanders, "and a party was formed to go down there, and find out whether it was true, and, in case it was, the white men were to be overcome by treachery, and their possessions in the shape of pearls taken. Since there is no more desperate and wicked member of the gang than am I, of course I was one of the first chosen.

"We started in two boats, and, as we went along, I could see difficulties in the way which never occurred to them. It was not likely you carried the pearls about with you, as a person wears his jewelry; but most likely they were buried, so that if we came down upon you and made an overwhelming attack, as was first intended, we might put you all to death, and then be unable to find where you had hidden your treasures. Besides that, I saw that it was more than probable you had firearms, with which you could successfully hold out against a large force, and it would prove no easy thing to subdue you."

"You were correct in both your surmises," said Storms. "We were always prepared to make a fight, and, with our guns against your spears, we would have beaten you off. The pearls, too, were carefully concealed where you never would have found them."

"I was well convinced of that, so we resorted to strategy. I was to go with a couple of the men and bring you away, trying all the time if I could to secure the pearls, which, of course, were afterwards to be disposed of and the proceeds divided among us—the intention being that when we got you on the proa, you would be pitched overboard, for then the situation would be so changed that we could manage it without trouble. If I thought it unsafe to make the attempt, I had only to wait until reinforcements should come up; for the larger boat, knowing the course I was to take on my return, had only to be on the lookout for us, and we would be sure to descry each other."

"And that was to be your signal that you had us aboard?" said Storms, pointing to the fluttering handkerchief.

"That's it precisely," assented Sanders. "But there was one force which we did not think to provide against," added the young man, in a low voice, in which Storms detected a slight tremor.

"What was that?"

"An awakened conscience," was the impressive answer. "And it was she who aroused the sleeper. There was something in the goodness of the girl—the faith which she showed not only in heaven but in me as well—that upset all my calculations. Then, too, she seemed to say the right words just at the right time; and you saw how I suffered."

"Yes; and it gave me great hope; for, Fred, I distrusted you from the beginning. I saw many little things which you never supposed I nor any one else would notice. And I may add," said the mate, with a sly twinkle, "that I endeavored always to be prepared for you."

The face of Sanders flushed, but he added, with the same seriousness:

"Matters now are going in accordance with the program arranged days ago. The large proa yonder has been waiting for us, and we are now to keep on converging lines until we meet to-night."

"Do you intend to follow out your agreement?"

"No; I had an awful struggle with my conscience last night, after my talk with Inez and with the poor captain, but the evil triumphed in me, despite all I could do. The fight was still going on, being renewed this morning, and I had about yielded to Satan, when she came and spoke to me. That," said Fred Sanders, with a compression of the lips, "has settled it forever. I am now your friend, and I am ready to give up my life for the safety of you and her, hoping that heaven will take it, with my repentance, as some atonement for the many sins I have committed."



CHAPTER XXXIII

THE PURSUIT

There are two angels within us forever struggling for the mastery: One is the angel of darkness, and the other of light—of evil and of good.

They had waged their battle in the heart of Fred Sanders for a long time, and too often did the restraining spirit fold her hands over her face and withdraw in sorrow at the triumph of the other. But the final struggle—the decisive warfare—was now ended, and the beauteous countenance of the good angel was radiant with hope and courage, for a soul had been saved.

Abram Storms smiled with pleasure as he looked upon the manly young fellow, and he was filled with delight at the resolution shown by him.

"There is no shrinking or trembling there," said Storms to himself. "He means every word he says, and he will stick to the end."

The man tried to look calm and self-possessed, when he moved forward and extended his hand, but there were tears in his eyes, and he could only murmur:

"God bless you, my boy! You have chosen the better part."

They were silent for a minute or so, each one's thoughts active, when Fred said:

"If you please, I would rather that Inez should know nothing of this."

"She never shall know a word of it from me."

"One of these days, perhaps, I will tell her what a villain she was the means of saving from destruction."

Fred appreciated the skill, seamanship and shrewdness of Storms, and consulted fully with him, saying that, as he himself was captain, he would appoint the other to his old position—that of mate.

The whole scheme had already been made clear by the youth. The large proa was in sight, by appointment, having been cruising back and forth for several days, on the lookout for the smaller boat with the party who it was expected would be robbed and killed for the valuable pearls in their possession. The signal of the fluttering handkerchief from the triangular sail meant that the party were on board, and the original program was to be carried out. That is, the pursuing boat was to hold off until after dark. She was to keep on a converging course, so as not to lose sight of the small proa, and gradually approaching, overhaul and attack her at the time when the chances of success were at the best.

The plan decided upon by Captain Sanders was simply to keep away from the larger craft, and to do his utmost to prevent being overhauled; and he showed his earnestness in this respect by taking the steering oar and bearing away from the other, so that, instead of being converging, they became parallel.

The two natives displayed some surprise when they observed this action, but they said nothing, and most likely felt no suspicion as yet of their captain, whose desperation and heartlessness on more than one previous occasion had won the confidence of the islanders.

It was not long before the change was noticed on board the pursuer, where, most likely, it was accepted as the proper thing, possibly on account of the fear from the passengers.

"I have no revolver like you," said Captain Fred, after they had kept this up for a couple of hours, "but I have a double-barreled pistol which is loaded to the muzzle. You have your six-chambered weapon, and you must keep it ready, for, when the two islanders here become certain of the truth, it is more than probable they will make a savage attack on us, for two more desperate demons never lived."

"I should hardly think so," said the mate, glancing furtively at them.

"No; they are as meek looking as lambs, but they were sent with me on account of their fierce courage. Why, they were ready and eager, when we visited you upon the island, to make an open attack, where the chances of their defeat were about even. They would rather fight and kill any moment than eat, and I had to be pretty sharp to restrain them."

"I shan't forget your warning."

"It won't do for either of us to sleep to-night, for they are as treacherous as cobras. They would feign slumber on purpose to put us off our guard, and then stab us to death in our sleep."

"Will we not reach Wauparmur to-night?"

"It is doubtful, for the change we have made in the course is taking us away from the true direction and gives the advantage to them, as they are closer in than we. We have lost some good ground from the lightness of the wind, and we shall be fortunate if we catch sight of the place before to-morrow's sunrise."

"After all, Captain Fred, it must be a question of speed between us and our pursuer. Which, therefore, is the faster, the double canoe yonder or ourselves?"

A troubled expression came over the face of the young captain, as he answered:

"I don't know, for there has never been a test. We kept company most of the way out, but we rattled along without any thought of speed, sometimes together and sometimes apart; but my opinion is that in moderate weather like the present there is little difference between us, or if there is any it is in our favor. In a strong wind, the other would he apt to outspeed us."

"We are going to have more wind," said the mate, looking anxiously about him. "I think I perceive it freshening already."

"I fear the same thing," said Fred, who was manifestly very uneasy. "We are now about two miles apart, and the prospect is that that will be cut down one-half by sunset."

"And then?"

Fred shrugged his shoulders.

"All is not lost. When the sun goes down, with us a mile apart, we shall be invisible; but they will crowd all speed, and stand a good chance of coming up with us again."

"But we gain a chance to maneuver."

"There is hope and yet great risk in that, for if we can throw them off the track we shall be safe, for we can easily get beyond their range of vision long before sunrise; but at the same time, in making these sharp turns, we shall lose a great deal of ground, provided we don't succeed, and if they once get in sight of us after the moon rises, the race will be ended, for we won't gain a chance to dodge them again."

"And then?"

"There will be the worst fight you ever saw. We shall have to begin by shooting these two, or pitching them overboard, if they don't happen to get their work in ahead of us, and then we shall have more than twenty savage islanders to keep off—if we can."

"We are pretty well armed, Captain Fred."

"Yes, we have our pistols, and there is a musket apiece for you, me and Inez—for she will have to take a hand in the fight."

"And there will be no braver than she. Have they any firearms on board?"

"I'm sorry to say they have, and that's what makes me more anxious than anything else. There are spears, knives, battle-axes and at least six loaded muskets, and what is more, the men who have them in hand know how to use them."

Mate Storms looked anxious, as well he might, for this was a phase of the question which had not presented itself to him. The case being as it was, the pursuers would be likely to begin firing as soon as they came within range, and when close in, the matter would be entirely within their hands.

Everything seemed to augur ill for the fugitives. The wind was steadily increasing and the flying proa was dashing through the water at a tremendous rate. The pursuing one had already shifted its course, so that this early in the afternoon the struggle had begun and settled down to a virtual test of speed.

"What do you suppose they think of the whole business?" asked Mate Storms, looking back at the double canoe as it rose on a huge swell at the same moment that they themselves sank in the vast, watery waste.

"I don't know whether they think anything is wrong yet or not, but imagine I am trying to keep off until after dark."

"Why, then, don't they respect your purpose and work with you?"

"The leader of that company is an islander who is somewhat jealous of me. He believes he knows more about such business than I do, and he has made up his mind to keep this in hand, no matter what my wishes are. So, though he may think I mean all right, yet he is sure he knows better, and governs himself accordingly."

"These two men here on board try to look indifferent, but they act suspiciously to me."

"And they are suspicious, too."

Fred Sanders might have added further that they were not only suspicious, but had actually discovered the truth.

They understood the purpose which had brought all three to the lonely island, and they knew that that purpose had been changed.

Inez Hawthorne, the girl of his own race, had caused this wonderful transformation in the heart of the young captain, and instead of being her enemy, he had become the devoted friend of herself and companion. While they could not understand the English tongue as they heard it spoken, they could read the meaning of looks and gestures and the confidential talks which they saw going on around them. They were convinced that their captain intended to betray them, and prevent the wealth from falling into their hands.

Would they submit?

Far from it. They would not only refuse to give their assent to any such perfidy, but they would use their utmost endeavors to defeat it. Such was their purpose, and Fred Sanders knew it, for he understood the character of the wretches; well, therefore, was it that he whispered the warning in the ear of Mate Abram Storms.

Inez Hawthorne sat at the front of the proa, in the place that had been assigned her, for something seemed to tell her that the men were so occupied with their duties that it would be better for her to keep away from them. It was with much reluctance that she consented to exchange the few words with Captain Fred Sanders, and little did she dream that it was those same few words which turned the young man from a deadly enemy into the most devoted ally, and gave some promise of life to herself and her companion. Yet, as we have shown, such was the fact.



CHAPTER XXXIV

CLOSING IN

When the sun sank in the western horizon, the situation of the two craft had not materially changed. The larger had perceptibly gained upon the smaller; but a good distance still separated them, and both parties were doing their utmost. The wind was blowing stronger than at mid-day, but it was not such a gale as had been feared, and our friends were not without hope of eluding the natives, who were endeavoring to overtake them.

Inez Hawthorne could not avoid seeing how matters stood, though she was far from suspecting the whole truth. Mr. Storms told her that the other boat contained pirates, who were doing their utmost to overtake them, and they were striving their hardest to prevent it. As it stood, there was a prospect of a fight, in which she would likely be called upon to take part. She smiled, looked reverently upward, and said she was ready whenever needed, and then she remained as cool and watchful as either of her friends.

Mr. Storms advised her not to go to sleep, as the coming night must decide the case one way or the other for them.

"No fear of my sleeping," she said. "I realize our position too well to do that."

"And Inez," whispered Storms, "these two savages on board are the worst sort of men. Keep watch, and do not place yourself in too dangerous a position respecting them."

"I have been alarmed more than once at their looks and mutterings."

As the sun went down, it was a curious sight when the double canoe rose on a swell and was outlined against the flaming disc behind, as we have described the ship and the moon more than three years before.

The sight was a strange one, though it lasted but a moment, when the craft went down, and the smaller proa swiftly climbed the long slope of the watery mountain in front. The round moon speedily rose in the sky, and it was so bright that it was hard to tell when twilight ended and its light began.