This proposal was agreed to with boisterous acclaim, and nearly the whole community volunteered on the spot. While this little difficulty was being overcome, Pauline lay sleeping in the palace hard by, and the enthusiastic cheer with which the conclusion of Dominick's speech was received awoke her.

"There—I know'd they'd do it!" exclaimed the lady of the bedchamber fiercely; "lie still, cushla! an' shut your purty eyes. Maybe you'll drop off again!"

A humorous smile beamed in Pauline's countenance and twinkled in her eyes.

"Thank you, dear nurse, I've had enough of sleep. Indeed, I begin to feel so strong that I think I shall very soon be able to undergo that—"

Pauline stopped and burst into a fit of merry laughter.

"It's that caronation, now, ye'll be thinkin' av?" said the widow Lynch, with a reproving look. "Faix, it's no laughin' matter ye'll find it, dear. It's onaisy is the hid as wears a crown."

"Why you talk, nurse, as if you had worn one yourself, and knew all about its troubles."

"Sure, av I didn't, me progenissors did, in Munster, before you English konkered us an' turned us topsy-turvy. But nivver mind. I don't bear no ill-will to 'ee, darlint, bekaise o' the evil deeds o' yer forefathers. I'm of a forgivin' disposition. An' it's a good quane you'll make, too, av ye don't let the men have too much o' their own way. But I do think that you an' me togither'll be more than a match for them all. D'ee think ye could stand the caronation now, dear?"

"Yes, I think I could. But really, you know, I find it so hard to believe it is not all a joke, despite the grave deputations that have waited on me, and the serious arguments they have used. The idea of making me—Me—a Queen!"

Again Pauline Rigonda gave way to merry laughter, and again did her lady of the bedchamber administer a reproof by expressing the hope that she might take the matter as lightly a year hence.

This pertinacious reference to possible trouble being mingled with the contemplated honour checked Pauline's disposition to laugh, and she had quite recovered her gravity when her brother Otto entered.

"Pina, I've come to tell you that they've fixed the coronation for Monday next if you feel up to it, and that the new palace is begun—a very different one, let me tell you, from this wretched affair with its tumble-down walls and low roof."

"Indeed—is it so very grand?"

"Grand! I should think it is. Why, it has got three rooms—three rooms—think o' that! Not countin' a splendid out-house stuck on behind, about ten feet square and over six feet high. Each of the three rooms is twelve feet long by ten broad; seven feet high, and papered with palm leaves. The middle one is the hall of Audience and Justice— or injustice if you like—the Council Chamber, the House of Parliament, the mess-room, and the drawing-room. The one on the right with two windows, from which are magnificent views, is your Majesty's sleeping-room and boudoir; that on the left is the ditto of Prime Minister Dominick and his Chief Secretary Prince Otto. The sort of hen-coop stuck on behind is to be the abode of the Court Physician, Dr John Marsh—whom, by the way, you'll have to knight—and with whom is to be billeted the Court Jester, Man-at-Arms, Man-of-all-work and general retainer, little Buxley. So, you see, it's all cut and dry, though of course it will take some little time to finish the palace in all its multitudinous details. Meanwhile I have been sent to sound you as to Monday next. Will you be able and ready?"

"If I could only get myself to believe," answered Pauline, as she leaned on one elbow on her couch, and toyed contemplatively with a fold of the shawl that covered her, "that the people are really in earnest, I—"

"Really in earnest!" repeated Otto. "Why, Pina, never were people more in earnest in this world. If you'd heard and seen them talking about it as I have, you'd not doubt their earnestness. Besides, you have no idea how needful you are to the community. The fact is, it is composed of such rough and rowdy elements—though of course there are some respectable and well-principled fellows among them—that nothing short of a power standing high above them and out o' their reach will have any influence with them at all. There are so many strong, determined, and self-willed men amongst them that there's no chance of their ever agreeing to submit to each other; so, you see, you are a sort of good angel, before whom they will be only too glad to bow—a kind of superior being, whom they will reverence, and to whom they will submit—a human safety-valve, in short, to prevent the community from blowing up—a species of—of—"

Here Pauline burst into another of her irrepressible fits of laughter, and being joined therein by Prince Otto, called forth a remonstrance from Mrs Lynch, who declared that if that was the way they were goin' to manage the affairs of state, she would be obliged to advise the settlers to change their minds and set up a republic.

"An' sure, mother," said Otto, who was a privileged favourite, "nothing could be better, with yourself as President."

"Go along wid ye, boy, an' do yer dooty. Tell the people that Miss Pauline will be ready—wind an' weather permittin'."

"Am I to take back that message, Pina?" asked Otto, with a look of glee.

"Well, I suppose you may."

It was not in the nature of things that a coronation in the circumstances which we have described should take place without being more or less intermingled with the unavoidable absurdities which mark the coronations of older and more densely peopled lands. It was felt that as the act was a seriously meant reality, and no mere joke, it should be gone about and accomplished with all due solemnity and proper ceremonial, somewhat after the pattern—as Teddy Malone suggested—of a Lord Mayor's Show; a suggestion, by the way, which did not conduce to the solemnity of the preliminary discussions.

There was one great difficulty, however, with which the embryo nation had to contend, and this was that not one of the community had ever seen a coronation, or knew how the details of the matter should be arranged.

In these circumstances an assembly of the entire nation was convened to consider the matter. As this convention embraced the women (except, of course, the queen elect), it included the babies, and as most of these were self-assertive and well-developed in chest and throat, it was found necessary to relegate them and the women to an outer circle, while the men in an inner circle tackled the problem.

The widow Lynch, being quite irrepressible except by physical force, and even by that with difficulty, was admitted on sufferance to the inner circle, and took part in the discussions.

Like most large assemblies, this one was found so unmanageable, that, after an hour or two of hopeless wrangling, Buxley the tailor started up with dishevelled hair and glaring eyeballs, and uttered a yell that produced a momentary silence. Seizing the moment, he said—

"I moves that we apint a committee to inquire into the whole matter an' report."

"Hear, hear, and well said!" shouted a multitude of voices.

"An' I moves," cried Mrs Lynch, starting forward with both arms up and all her fingers rampant, "that—"

"No, no, mother," interrupted Buxley, "you must second the motion."

"Howld yer tongue, ye dirty spalpeen! Isn't it the second motion that I'm puttin'? I moves that the committee is Mr Dumnik Rig Gundy an' Dr Marsh—"

"An' Mister Nobbs," shouted a voice.

"An' Mister Joe Binney," said another.

"An' little Mister Buxley, be way of variashun," cried Teddy Malone.

"An' Mistress Lynch, for a change," growled Jabez Jenkins.

"Hear, hear! No, no! Hurrah! Nonsense! Howld yer tongue! Be serious!"—gradually drowned in a confusion of tongues with a yelling accompaniment from infantry in the outer circle.

It was finally agreed, however, that the arrangements for the coronation should be left entirely to a committee composed of Dominick, Dr Marsh, Joe Binney, and Hugh Morris—Joe being put forward as representing the agricultural interest, and Hugh the malcontents. Teddy Malone was added to make an odd number, "for there's luck in odd numbers," as he himself remarked on accepting office.

Immediately after the general meeting broke up, these five retired to the privacy of a neighbouring palm grove, where, seated on a verdant and flowering bank, they proceeded calmly to discuss details.

"You see, my friends," said Dominick, "it must be our most earnest endeavour to carry out this important matter in a serious and business-like manner. Already there is too much of a spirit of levity among the people, who seem to look at the whole affair as a sort of game or joke, playing, as it were, at national life, whereas we actually are an independent nation—"

"A small wan, av coorse," murmured Malone.

"Yes, a small one, but not the less real on that account, so that we are entitled to manage our own affairs, arrange our own government, and, generally, to act according to our united will. These islands and their surroundings are unknown—at least they are not put down on any chart; I believe we have discovered them. There are no inhabitants to set up a counter claim; therefore, being entitled to act according to our will, our appointment of a queen to rule us—under limited powers, to be hereafter well considered and clearly written down—is a reality; not a mere play or semi-jest to be undone lightly when the fancy takes us. That being so, we must go to work with gravity and earnestness of purpose."

Teddy Malone, who was an impressionable creature, here became so solemnised that his lengthening visage and seriously wrinkled brow rendered gravity—especially on the part of Dr Marsh—almost impossible.

Overcoming his feelings with a powerful effort the doctor assented to what Dominick said, and suggested that some mild sort of ceremonial should be devised for the coronation, in order to impress the beholders as well as to mark the event.

"That's so," said Teddy Malone, "somethin' quiet an' orderly, like an Irish wake, or—. Ah! then ye needn't smile, doctor. It's the quietest an' most comfortin' thing in life is an Irish wake whin it's gone about properly."

"But we don't want comforting, Teddy," said Dominick, "it is rather a subject for rejoicing."

"Well, then, what's to hinder us rejoicin' in comfort?" returned Teddy. "At all the wakes I ivver attinded there was more rejoicin' than comfortin' goin' on; but that's a matter of taste, av coorse."

"There'll have to be a crown o' some sort," remarked Hugh Morris.

"You're right, lad," said Joe Binney. "It wouldn't do to make it o' pasteboard, would it? P'r'aps that 'ud be too like playin' at a game, an' tin would be little better."

"What else can we make it of, boys?" said Malone, "we've got no goold here—worse luck! but maybe the carpenter cud make wan o' wood. With a lick o' yellow paint it would look genuine."

"Nonsense, Teddy," said the doctor, "don't you see that in this life men should always be guided by circumstances, and act with propriety. Here we are on an island surrounded by coral reefs, going to elect a queen; what more appropriate than that her crown should be made of coral."

"The very thing, doctor," cried Malone, with emphasis, "och! it's the genius ye have! There's all kinds o' coral, red and white, an' we could mix it up wi' some o' that fine-coloured seaweed to make it purty."

"It could be made pritty enough without seaweed," said Binney, "an' it's my notion that the women-folk would be best at makin' of it."

"Right, Joe, right, so, if you have no objection, we will leave it to them," said Dominick, "and now as to the ceremonial?"

"A pursession," suggested Joe Binney.

"Just so," said Hugh Morris, "the very thing as was in my mind."

"And a throne," cried Malone, "there couldn't be a proper quane widout a throne, you know. The carpenter can make that, anyhow, for there's wood galore on the island—red, black, an' white. Yis, we must have a grand throne, cut, an' carved, an' mounted high, so as she'll have two or three steps to climb up to it."

In regard to the procession and the throne there was considerable difference of opinion, but difficulties were got over and smoothed down at last by the tact and urbanity of Dominick, to whom, finally, the whole question of the coronation was committed. Thus it frequently happens among men. In the multitude of counsellors there is wisdom enough, usually, to guide in the selection of the fittest man to take the helm in all important affairs.

And that reminds us that it is high time to terminate this long digression, and guide our readers back to the beginning of the chapter, where we stated that the important day had at last arrived.

Happily, in those highly favoured climes weather has not usually to be taken much into account. The sun arose out of the ocean's breast with the same unclouded beauty that had marked his rise every morning for a week previously, and would probably mark it for a week to come. The sweet scents of the wooded heights floated down on the silver strand; the sharks ruffled the surface of the lagoon with their black fins, the birds hopped or flew from palm-tree to mimosa-bush, and the waterfowl went about according to taste on lazy or whistling wings, intent on daily business, much as though nothing unusual were "in the air."

But it was otherwise with the human family on Big Island. Unwonted excitement was visible on almost every face. Bustle was in every action. Preparations were going on all round, and, as some members of the community were bent on giving other members a surprise, there was more or less of secrecy and consequent mystery in the behaviour of every one.

By breakfast-time little Mrs Nobbs, the blacksmith's laughter-loving wife, had nearly laughed herself into fits of delight at the crown, which she assisted Mrs Welsh and the widow Lynch to fabricate. The last had devised it, Mrs Welsh had built it in the rough, and Mrs Nobbs had finished it off with the pretty little wreath of red and white branching coral that formed its apex. Apart from taste it was a stupendous erection.

"But don't you think that it's too big and heavy?" cried Mrs Nobbs, with a shrieking giggle and clapping of her hands, as she ran back to have a distant view of it.

"Pooh!" exclaimed Mrs Lynch contemptuously, "too heavy? No, it's nothin', my dear, to what the kings an' quanes of Munster wore."

"But Miss Pauline is neither a king nor a queen of Munster, an' I do think it's a bit over-heavy," objected Mrs Welsh, as she lifted the structure with difficulty.

"Well, ye might take off the wreath," was the widow's reply.

Mrs Nobbs removed the only part of the erection that was really pretty, but still it was pronounced by Mrs Welsh to be too heavy, especially for the fair and delicate brows of Pauline Rigonda.

While they were thus engaged Dr Marsh entered the hut, where, for the sake of secrecy, the crown had been prepared, but Dr Marsh was a privileged man, besides he was there professionally; little Brown-eyes was sick—not seriously, but sufficiently so to warrant medical intervention.

"Well, what have we here, ladies?" said the doctor blandly, "part of the throne, eh?"

"Sure it is, in a sort of way, for it's the crown," answered Mrs Lynch, "an' they think it's over-heavy."

"Not at all; by no means," cried the doctor heartily. "It's splendid. Put the wreath on—so. Nothing could be finer. Shall I carry it up for you? The coronation is fixed for noon, you know, so that we may have time to finish off with a grand feast."

"No, no, doctor dear. Thank 'ee kindly, but we must cover it up, so's not to let the people see it till the right time."

"Well, see that you're not late with it."

Having caused Brown-eyes to put out her little tongue, and felt her pulse, and nodded his head gravely once or twice without speaking, all of which must have been highly comforting and beneficial to the child, the doctor went out.

Not long afterwards the people began to assemble round the palace, in front of which a wondrous throne had been erected. Down in a dell behind a cliff some fifty men had assembled secretly with the crown on a cushion in their midst. They were headed by Dr Marsh, who had been unanimously elected to place the crown on Pauline's head. In the palace Pauline was being prepared by Mrs Lynch and Mrs Nobbs for the ceremony.

On the top of a mound close to the palace a band of conspirators was assembled. These conspirators were screened from view by some thick bushes. Otto Rigonda was their ringleader, Teddy Malone and little Buxley formed the rest of the band. Otto had found a dead tree. Its trunk had been hollowed by decay. He and his fellow-conspirators had sawn it off near to the ground, and close to the root they had drilled a touch-hole. This huge piece of ordnance they had loaded with a heavy charge of the ship's gunpowder. Otto now stood ready with a piece of slow-match at the touch-hole, and another piece, lighted, in hand.

Suddenly, about the hour of noon, Abel Welsh the carpenter, and Nobbs the blacksmith, issued from the palace with two long tin implements. Secretly, for two weeks previously, had these devoted men retired every night to the opposite extremity of Big Island, and frightened into fits the birds and beasts of that region with the sounds they produced in practising on those instruments. Applying the trumpets to their lips, they sent forth a tremendous, though not uniform, blast.

The surrounding crowd, who expected something, but knew not what, replied with a cheer not unmixed with laughter, for the two trumpets, after the manner of asses, had to make some ineffectual preliminary efforts before achieving a full-toned bray. An answering note from the dell, however, repressed the laughter and awoke curiosity. Next moment the doctor appeared carrying the crown, and followed by his fifty men, armed with muskets, rifles, fowling-pieces, and revolvers. Their appearance was so realistic and impressive that the people forgot to cheer. At the same moment the palace door was thrown open, and Dominick led the youthful queen to the foot of the throne.

Poor little Pauline looked so modest and pretty, and even timid, and withal so angelically innocent in the simplicity of her attire, that the people burst into an earnestly enthusiastic shout, and began for the first time to feel that this was no game or play, but a serious reality.

Things had been so arranged that Pina and Dr Marsh reached the foot of the throne together. Then the latter took the pretty coral wreath off the huge crown, and, to widow Lynch's felt, but not expressed, indignation, placed that on Pauline's head.

"Pauline Rigonda," he said in a loud voice, "I have been appointed by the people of this island to crown you, in their name and by their authority, as Queen of Refuge Islands, in the full belief that your innocence and regard for truth and righteousness will be their best guarantee that you will select as your assistants the men whom you think best suited to aid you in the promotion of good government."

The serious tone of the doctor's voice, and the genuine shouts of satisfaction from the people, put the poor little queen in such a flutter that nearly all her courage forsook her, and she could scarcely reply. Nevertheless, she had a mind of her own.

"Doctor Marsh, and my dear people," she said at last, "I—I scarcely know how to reply. You overrate me altogether; but—but, if I rule at all, I will do so by the blessed truths of this book (she held up a Bible); and—and before taking a single step further I appoint as my—my Prime Minister—if I may so call him—Joe Binney."

For one moment there was the silence of amazement, for neither Dominick nor Dr Marsh knew of Pauline's intention. Only the widow Lynch had been aware of her resolve. Next moment a hilarious cheer burst from the crowd, and Teddy Malone, from his retreat, shouted, "God bliss the Quane!" which infused hearty laughter into the cheer, whereupon Welsh and Nobbs, thinking the right time had come, sent out of their tin tubes, after a few ineffectual blurts, two terrific brays. Fearing to be too late, one of the armed men let off his piece, which was the signal for a grand feu de joie.

"Now for it," thought the chief conspirator in the bushes, as he applied his light to the slow-match. He thought nothing more just then, for the slow-match proved to be rather quick, fired the powder at once, and the monster cannon, bursting with a hideous roar into a thousand pieces, blew Otto through the bushes and down the mound, at the foot of which he lay as one dead.

Consternation was on every face. The queen, dropping her crown, sprang to his side, Dr Marsh did the same, but Otto recovered almost immediately.

"That was a stunner!" he said, with a confused look, putting his hand to his head, as they helped him to rise.

Strange to say, he was none the worse of the misadventure, but did his part nobly at the Royal feast that followed.

That night she who had risen with the sun as Pauline Rigonda, laid her fair young head upon the pillow as—the Island Queen.



CHAPTER NINE.

SHOWS HOW THEY WERE TORMENTED BY AN OLD FAMILIAR FIEND; HOW THEY KILLED HIM, AND WHAT BEFELL THE QUEEN AND OTTO WHILE IN THE PURSUIT OF LEGITIMATE PLEASURE.

When the widow Lynch told Pauline that "onaisy is the hid as wears a crown," she stated a great truth which was borne in upon the poor queen at the very commencement of her reign.

Up to that time Malines had quietly kept possession of the key of the ship's liquor-room, knowing full well what extreme danger lay in letting men have unrestrained command of strong drink. But when the royal feast referred to in the last chapter was pending, he could not well refuse to issue an allowance of grog. He did so, however, on the understanding that only a small quantity was to be taken for the occasion, and that he should himself open and lock the door for them. He made this stipulation because he knew well enough the men who wanted to drink would break the door open if he refused to give up the key; and his fears were justified, for some of the more mutinous among the men, under the leadership of Jabez Jenkins and Morris, seized the key from the mate when he produced it, carried all the spirit and wine casks to the shore, ferried them over the lagoon to Big Island, and set them up ostentatiously and conspicuously in a row not far from the palace. As this was understood by the people to be in connection with the coronation festivities, no particular notice was taken of it.

But the result soon began to be felt, for after the festivities were over, and most of the settlers had retired to rest, a group of kindred souls gathered round the spirit casks, and went in for what one of them termed a "regular spree." At first they drank and chatted with moderate noise, but as the fumes of the terrible fire-water mounted to their brains they began to shout and sing, then to quarrel and fight, and, finally, the wonted silence of the night was wildly disturbed by the oaths and fiendish yells and idiotic laughter of maniacs.

"This won't do," said Dominick, issuing from his room in the palace, and meeting the doctor.

"I had just come to the same conclusion," said the latter, "and was about to consult you as to what we should do."

"Collect some of our best men and put a stop to it," returned Dominick; "but here comes the prime minister—roused, no doubt, as we have been. What say you, Joe; shall we attempt to quell them?"

"Well, master, that depends. There's a braw lot on 'em, an' if they beant far gone, d'ee see, they might gie us a deal o' trouble. If they be far gone I'd advise ye to let 'em alone; the drink'll quell 'em soon enough. Arter that we'll know what to do."

Just as he spoke a woman was seen rushing frantically towards them. It was little Mrs Nobbs. Poor thing! All her wonted merriment had fled from her comely face, and been supplanted by a look of horror.

"O sirs!" she cried, clasping her hands, and gasping as she spoke, "come, come quick, my John has falled an' broke his pledge, an' he's goin' to murder some of 'em. I know he'll do it; he's got hold o' the fore-hammer. Oh! come quick!"

They required no urging. Running down to the scene of the orgies, they found that the blacksmith, who had hitherto been considered—and really was—one of the quietest men of the party, was now among the drunkards. He stood in the midst of the rioters, his large frame swaying to and fro, while he held the ponderous fore-hammer threateningly in his hands, and insanity gleamed in his eyes as he glared fiercely at Jabez Jenkins.

On Jabez the liquor had a different effect, his temperament being totally different. He was a rather phlegmatic man, and, having drunk enough to have driven two men like the blacksmith raving mad, he only stood before him with a dull heavy look of stupidity, mingled with an idiotic sneer of defiance.

"Fiend!" shouted Nobbs, gnashing his teeth, "you have got me to do it, and now I'll smash in your thick skull—I'll—"

He stopped abruptly for a moment. Joe Binney came up behind and gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Come, John, you ain't agoin' to do it. You knows you're not."

The quiet tone, the gentle yet fearless look, and, above all, the sensible, kindly expression on his friend's countenance, effectually subdued the blacksmith for a few seconds, but the fury soon returned, though the channel in which it flowed was changed, for Jabez was forgotten, having slunk away.

"Ha!" he shouted, grasping Joe by the hand and arm, "I've had it again! You don't know how it shoots through my veins. I—I've tried to break with it, too—tried—tried! D'ee know what it is to try, Joe, to try— try—try till your blood curdles, an' your marrow boils, and your nerves tingle—but I gained the victory once—I—ha! ha! yes, I took the pledge an' kep' it, an' I've bin all right—till to-night. My Mary knows that. She'll tell you it's true—for months, and months, and months, and—but I'll keep it yet!"

He shouted his last words in a tone of fierce defiance, let go his friend, caught up the sledge-hammer, and, whirling it round his head as if it had been a mere toy, turned to rush towards the sea.

But Joe's strong arm arrested him. Well did he understand the nature of the awful fiend, with which the blacksmith was fighting. The scene enacting was, with modifications, somewhat familiar to him, for he had dwelt near a great city where many a comrade had fallen in the same fight, never more to rise in this life.

Joe's superior strength told for a moment, and he held the struggling madman fast, but before Dominick and the doctor could spring to his aid, Nobbs had burst from him. The brief check, however, seemed to have changed his intentions. Possibly he was affected by some hazy notion that it would be a quicker end to leap headlong from the neighbouring cliffs than to plunge into the sea. At all events, he ran like a deer up towards the woods. A bonfire, round which the revellers had made merry, lay in his path. He went straight through it, scattering the firebrands right and left. No one attempted, no one dared, to stop him, but God put a check in his way. The course he had taken brought him straight up to the row of casks which stood on the other side of the fire, and again his wild mood was changed. With a yell of triumph he brought the sledge-hammer down on one of the casks, drove in the head, and overturned it with the same blow, and the liquor gushing out flowed into the fire, where it went up in a magnificent roar of flame.

The effect on those of the rioters who were not too drunk to understand anything, was to draw forth a series of wild cheers, but high above these rang the triumphant shout of the blacksmith as he gazed at the destruction of his enemy.

By this time all the people in the settlement had turned out, and were looking on in excitement, alarm, or horror, according to temperament. Among them, of course, was the widow Lynch, who was quick to note that events were taking a favourable turn. Springing boldly to the side of the smith, and, in her wild dishevelment of hair and attire, seeming a not unfit companion, she cried—

"Don't spare them, John! sure there's another inimy close at yer back."

Nobbs had sense enough left to observe something of the ludicrous in the woman and her advice. He turned at once, uttered a wildly jovial laugh, and driving in the head of another cask, overturned it. As before, the spirit rushed down the hill and was set ablaze, but the poor madman did not pause now to look at the result. His great enemy was in his power; his spirit was roused. Like one of the fabled heroes of old, he laid about him with his ponderous weapon right and left until every cask was smashed, and every drop of the accursed liquid was rushing down the hillside to the sea, or flaming out its fierce existence in the air.

The people looked on awe-stricken, and in silence, while the madman fought. It was not with the senseless casks or the inanimate liquor that poor John Nobbs waged war that night; it was with a real fiend who, in days gone by, had many a time tripped him up and laid him low, who had nearly crushed the heart of his naturally cheerful little wife, who had ruined his business, broken up his home, alienated his friends, and, finally, driven him into exile—a fiend from whom, for many months, under the influence of "the pledge," he had been free, and who, he had fondly hoped, was quite dead.

This sudden revival of the old foe, and this unexpected surprise and fall, had roused this strong man's spirit to its utmost ferocity, and in mighty wrath he plied his hammer like a second Thor. But the very strength and nervous power of the man constituted his weakness, when brought under the subtle influence of the old tempter, and it is probable that on his recovery, with nerves shaken, old cravings awakened, and self-respect gone, he would have fallen again and again if God had not made use of the paroxysm of rage to destroy the opportunity and the cause of evil. Nobbs did not know at that time, though he learned it afterwards, that safety from the drink-sin—as from all other sin—lies not in strong-man resolutions, or Temperance pledges, though both are useful aids, but in Jesus, the Saviour from sin.

Some of those who witnessed the wholesale destruction of the liquor would fain have made an effort to prevent it; but, fortunately for the community, most of them were too drunk to care, and the others to interfere; while all were so taken by surprise that the deed was done and the grand conflagration ended before they had realised the full significance of the blacksmith's act.

When the last head had been driven in, and the last gallon of spirit summarily dismissed by the fire, Nobbs threw up his arms, and, looking upward, gave vent to a cheer which ended in a prolonged cry. For a moment he stood thus, then the hammer dropt from his grasp, and he fell back insensible.

Poor little Mrs Nobbs was by his side on her knees in a moment, parting the dark hair from his broad brow, kissing his swart cheeks, and chafing his strong hands.

"O John! darling John!" she cried, "come back—come back—don't die. You never was hard or cruel to me! Even the drink could not do that. Come back, John!"

Dr Marsh here gently restrained her. "Don't be alarmed," he said, as he undid the smith's necktie; "he'll be all right presently. Stand back, don't crowd round him; and you go fetch a cup of water, Mrs Nobbs."

The reassuring tones and the necessity for action did much to calm the excited woman. Before she had returned with the water her husband had partially recovered. They carried him to his hut, and left him to sleep off the effects, while his poor little wife watched by his side. When left quite alone, she went down on her knees beside him, and prayed for his deliverance with all her heart. Then she rose and sat down with a calm, contented look, muttering, "Yes; He is the hearer and answerer of prayer. He will answer me."

She might have gone further and said, "He has answered me," for was not the destruction of the liquor an answer to the petition before it was put up? "Before they call I will answer."

"Pina," said Otto the following day, in a tone almost of reproach, during a private audience with the queen, "Pina, how came you to do such an insane thing as choose Joe Binney for your premier? Why didn't you choose Dom? You know well enough that he's fifty times cleverer than Joe, and even in the matter of strength, though he's not so strong, I'm very sure that with his pugilistic powers he could keep order quite as well. Besides, all the people had made up their minds, as a matter of course, that Dom was to be premier, and then—he's a gentleman."

"I'm thankful that you are not one of the Privy Council, Otto," returned Pauline, with a laugh. "You put several questions, and a string of commentary and suggestion in the same breath! Let me answer you in detail, beginning with your last remark. Joe is a gentleman in the highest sense of that word. He is gentle as a lamb by nature, and a man every inch of him. But, more than this, I have noticed that he is a peculiarly wise man, with a calm, pool head on all occasions, and not too ready to use his great physical power in the settlement of disputes. I have observed, too, that when asked for his advice, he usually thinks well before he gives it, and when his advice is followed things almost always go well. Still further, Joe has the thorough confidence of the people, and I am not so sure that Dom has. Besides, if I had appointed Dom, some of the ungenerous among them might have said it was done from mere favouritism. Then as to the people making up their minds that I would appoint Dom," continued Pauline, "what have I to do with that?"

"Why, everything to do with it," returned Otto, with a surprised look. "Were you not made queen for the purpose of carrying out their wishes?"

"Certainly not," answered Pauline; "I was made queen for the purpose of ruling. They told me they had confidence in my judgment, not in my readiness to carry out their wishes. If my judgment, coupled with that of my advisers, does not suit them, it is open to them to unmake me as they made me, and appoint a king or a president, but my judgment I cannot alter."

Otto listened to these gravely stated opinions of the new queen with increasing astonishment.

"Then, you awful despot," he said, "do you mean to tell me that you are going to have no regard for the will of the people?"

"No, I don't mean to tell you that, you presumptuous little subject. I intend always to have the utmost regard for the will of my people, and to weigh it well, and consult with my advisers about it; and when our united judgment says that their will is good, I will act in accordance with it; when we think it bad, I will reject it. I have been made queen to rule, and I mean to rule! That's fair, isn't it? If they don't like my ruling they can dethrone me. That's also fair, isn't it? You wouldn't have me become a mere puppet—a jumping Jack or Jinnie—would you, for the people to pull the string of?"

"Well, I never!" exclaimed Otto, gazing with distended eyes at the soft fair face and at the pretty little innocent mouth that gave vent to these vigorous sentiments. "And what may it be your majesty's pleasure to do next?"

"It is my pleasure that you, sir, shall go down to the beach and prepare the dinghy for immediate service. I have already directed the prime minister, in conjunction with Dom and our Court physician, to draw up a constitution and code of laws; while they are thus employed you and I will go a-fishing."

"Very good; I suppose I'm bound to obey, but I thought your majesty preferred to go a-sketching."

"We will do both. Be off, sirrah!"

Otto was not long in launching and getting ready the little punt, or dinghy, belonging to the wreck, which, being too small for carrying goods to the island, had been made over to Pauline as a royal barge for her special amusement, and already had she and her little brother enjoyed several charming expeditions among the sheltered islets of the lagoon, when Otto devoted himself chiefly to rowing and fishing, while his sister sketched with pencil and water-colours. Being expert with both, she took great pleasure therein.

"It is so pleasant and so very engrossing," she murmured, busying herself with a sketch of Otto as he rowed gently towards one of the smaller islets. "I can't tell you how much I delight—turn your head a little more to the left—so—and do keep your nose quiet if you can."

"Impossible," said Otto. "There's a little fly that has made up its mind to go into my nose. I can neither drive it away nor catch it while both hands are engaged with the oars, so there's no resource left but to screw my nose about. But what were you going to say you delighted in?"

"In—in drawing," replied the queen very slowly, while her pretty little head went up and down as she glanced alternately at her sitter and the sketch-book on her knee; "it—it takes one's mind—so—off—"

"The cares of state?" said Otto. "Yes, I can easily understand what a-re-re-ha! hk-sh!" he gave way to a convulsive sneeze; "there, it went up at last, and that little fly's doom is sealed!"

"I should think it was," said Pauline laughingly. "To be blown from a cannon's mouth must be nothing to that. Now, do keep still, just for one minute."

For considerably more than a minute she went on sketching busily, while her brother pulled along very gently, as if unwilling to break the pleasant silence. Everything around was calculated to foster a dreamy, languid, peaceful state of mind. The weather was pleasantly cool—just cool enough to render the brilliant sunshine most enjoyable. Not a zephyr disturbed the glassy surface of the sea outside or the lagoon within, or broke the perfect reflections of the islets among which they moved. The silence would have been even oppressive had it not been for the soft, plaintive cries of wildfowl and the occasional whistling of wings as they hurried to and fro, and the solemn boom of the great breakers as they fell at slow regular intervals on the reef. "Doesn't it sound," said Pauline, looking up from her sketch with a flush of delight, "like the deep soft voice of the ocean speaking peace to all mankind?"

"What, the breakers?" asked Otto.

"Yes, dropping with a soft deep roar as they do in the midst of the universal silence."

"Well, it doesn't quite strike me in that light, Pina. My imagination isn't so lively as yours. Seems to me more like the snoring of a sleeping giant, whom it is best to let lie still like a sleeping dog, for he's apt to do considerable damage when roused."

The soft influences around soon reduced the pair to silence again. After a time it was broken by Pauline.

"What are you thinking of, Otto?"

"I was thinking, your majesty, that it seems unfair, after making Joe prime minister, Dom a privy councillor, the doctor Court physician and general humbug, that you should give me no definite position in the royal household."

"What would you say to being commander of the forces?" asked Pauline dreamily, as she put in a few finishing touches, "for then, you see, you might adopt the title which you have unfairly bestowed on the doctor— General Humbug."

Otto shook his head. "Wouldn't do, my dear queen. Not being a correct description, your bestowing it would compromise your majesty's well-known character for truthfulness. What d'you say to make me a page—page in waiting?"

"You'll have to turn over a new leaf if I do, for a page is supposed to be quiet, respectful, polite, obedient, ready—"

"No use to go further, Pina. I'm not cut out for a page. Will you land on this islet?"

They were gliding softly past one of the most picturesque and verdant gems of the lagoon at the time.

"No, I've taken a fancy to make a sketch from that one nearer to the shore of Big Island. You see, there is not only a very picturesque group of trees on it just at that place, but the background happens to be filled up by a distant view of the prettiest part of our settlement, where Joe Binney's garden lies, close to Mrs Lynch's garden, with its wonderfully shaped and curious hut, (no wonder, built by herself!) and a corner of the palace rising just behind the new schoolhouse."

"Mind your eye, queen, else you go souse overboard when we strike," said Otto, not without reason, for next moment the dinghy's keel grated on the sand of the islet, and Pauline, having risen in her eagerness to go to work, almost fulfilled the boy's prediction.

"But tell me, Pina, what do you mean to do with that schoolhouse when it is built?" asked Otto, as he walked beside his sister to the picturesque spot above referred to.

"To teach in it, of course."

"What—yourself?"

"Well, yes, to some extent. Of course I cannot do much in that way—"

"I understand—the affairs of state!" said Otto, "will not permit, etcetera."

"Put it so if you please," returned Pauline, laughing. "Here, sit down; help me to arrange my things, and I'll explain. You cannot fail to have been impressed with the fact that the children of the settlers are dreadfully ignorant."

"H'm! I suppose you are right; but I have been more deeply impressed with the fact that they are dreadfully dirty, and desperately quarrelsome, and deplorably mischievous."

"Just so," resumed Pauline. "Now, I intend to get your friend Redding, who was once a schoolmaster, to take these children in hand when the schoolroom is finished, and teach them what he can, superintended by Dr Marsh, who volunteered his services the moment I mentioned the school. In the evenings I will take the mothers in hand, and teach them their duties to their children and the community—"

"Being yourself such an old and experienced mother," said Otto.

"Silence, sir! you ought to remember that we have a dear, darling mother at home, whose character is engraven on my memory, and whom I can hold up as a model."

"True, Pina! The dear old mother!" returned Otto, a burst of home-feeling interfering for a moment with his levity. "Just you paint her portrait fair and true, and if they come anything within a hundred miles o' the mark yours will be a kingd—-queendom, I mean—of amazin' mothers. I sometimes fear," continued the boy, becoming grave, "it may be a long time before we set eyes on mother again."

"I used to fear the same," said Pauline, "but I have become more hopeful on that point since Dr Marsh said he was determined to have a small schooner built out of the wreck, and attempt with a few sailors to reach England in her, and report our condition here."

"Why, that would do you out of your kingdom, Pina!"

"It does not follow. And what if it did?"

"It would be a pity. Not pleasant you know, to be dethroned. But to return to mother. D'you think the old cat will have learned to speak by this time?"

To this Pauline replied that she feared not; that, although the cat might have mastered the consonants, it could never have managed the vowels. "Dear mother," she added, in a more earnest tone, "I am quite sure that though the cat may not speak to her, she will not have ceased to speak to the cat. Now, go away, Otto, you're beginning to make me talk nonsense."

"But what about the schoolhouse?" persisted the boy, while the girl began to sketch the view. "You have not finished that subject."

"True—well, besides teaching the mothers I have great hopes of inducing Dom to set up a Sunday-school, in which those who feel inclined might be taught out of the Bible, and that might in time lead to our making a church of it on Sundays, and having regular services, for there are some earnest Christians among the men, who I feel quite sure would be ready to help in the work. Then as to an army—"

"An army!" echoed Otto, "what do we want with an army? who have we to fight against?"

Little did Otto or Pauline think that at the very time they were conversing thus pleasantly on that beautiful islet, the presence of a friendly army was urgently required, for there in the bushes close behind them listening to every sentence, but understanding never a word, lay a group of tattooed and armed savages!

In the prosecution of evil designs, the nature of which was best known to themselves, these savages had arrived at Refuge Islands the night before. Instantly they became aware of the presence of the white men, and took measures to observe them closely without being themselves observed. Carrying their war-canoe over the reef in the dark, and launching it on the lagoon, they advanced as near to the settlement as possible, landed a small party on an islet, and then retired with the canoe. It was this party which lay in ambush so near to our little hero and heroine. They had been watching the settlers since daybreak, and were not a little surprised, as well as gratified, by the unexpected arrival of the little boat.

The savage who lay there grinning like a Cheshire cat, and peeping through the long grass not ten feet from where the brother and sister sat, was a huge man, tattooed all over, so that his face resembled carved mahogany, his most prominent feature being a great flat nose, with a blue spot on the point of it.

Suddenly Otto caught sight of the glitter of this man's eyes and teeth.

Now, the power of self-restraint was a prominent feature in Otto's character, at least in circumstances of danger, though in the matter of fun and mischief he was rather weak. No sign did Otto give of his discovery, although his heart seemed to jump into his mouth. He did not even check or alter the tone of his conversation, but he changed the subject with surprising abruptness. He had brought up one of the dinghy's oars on his shoulder as a sort of plaything or vaulting-pole. Suddenly, asking Pauline if she had ever seen him balance an oar on his chin, he proceeded to perform the feat, much to her amusement. In doing so he turned his back completely on the savage in ambush, whose cattish grin increased as the boy staggered about.

But there was purpose in Otto's staggering. He gradually lessened the distance between himself and the savage. When near enough for his purpose, he grasped the oar with both hands, wheeled sharply round, and brought the heavy handle of it down with such a whack on the bridge of the savage's blue-spotted nose that he suddenly ceased to grin, and dropped his proboscis in the dust!

At the same instant, to the horror and surprise of the brother and sister, up sprang half a dozen hideous natives, who seized them, placed their black hands on their mouths, and bore them swiftly away. The war-canoe, putting off from its concealment, received the party along with the fallen leader, and made for the reef.

High on the cliffs of Big Island Dr John Marsh had been smilingly watching the proceedings of the queen and her brother in the dinghy. When he witnessed the last act of the play, however, the smile vanished. With a bound that would have done credit to a kangaroo, and a roar that would have shamed a lion, he sprang over the cliffs, ran towards the beach, and was followed—yelling—by all the men at hand—some armed, and some not. They leaped into the largest boat on the shore, put out the ten oars, bent to them with a will, and skimmed over the lagoon in fierce pursuit.

Soon the savages gained the reef, carried their canoe swiftly over, and launched on the open sea, cutting through the great rollers like a rocket or a fish-torpedo.

Heavy timbers and stout planks could not be treated thus; nevertheless, the white men were so wild and strong, that when the boat finally gained the open sea it was not very far behind the canoe.



CHAPTER TEN.

DESCRIBES A RESCUE, A CONSPIRACY, AND A TRIAL.

Proverbially a stern chase is a long one. Happily, there are exceptions to proverbs as well as rules. The chase of the war-canoe, however, with the captured queen on board, did not promise to be exceptional at first, for the canoe was light and sharp, and powerfully manned, so that the savages could relieve each other frequently, whereas the settlers' boat was heavy and blunt, and not by any means too full of men. It soon became apparent that the latter was no match for the former under oars. The distance between the two visibly increased.

Dr Marsh steered. He was deadly pale, and there was a peculiarly intense expression of anxiety in the steady gaze, with which he watched the ever-diminishing canoe.

"No chance?" muttered Jabez Jenkins, who happened to form one of the crew and pulled the bow oar.

"No chance?" repeated Dominick, who also pulled one of the oars. "There's every chance. We're sure to tire them out. Ho! lads, give way with a will!"

Although labouring already with all his might, indignation at Jenkins's remark enabled him to put on a spurt, which the others imitated. Still the distance between boat and canoe increased.

"They are three to one," growled Malines, who, up to that time, had been doing his best.

"Silence!" thundered the doctor, drawing a revolver from his pocket and cocking it.

Beads of perspiration stood on the doctor's brow, and there was something so terrible in the look of his white face that no one ventured to utter another word, but all pulled as if for their lives.

For some minutes no sound was heard save the regular rattle of the oars in the rowlocks, the swish of the foam as it flew from the cutwater, and the occasional sob or gasp of the men as they exerted themselves to the utmost limit of their powers in the hopeless pursuit.

Suddenly Teddy Malone cried eagerly, "Look out—astarn!"

All turned their gaze as directed, and observed a dark line on the horizon.

"Thank God!" murmured the doctor, "a breeze!"

It was indeed true. Just at this critical moment of profound, despair, a gleam of hope was sent to sustain them! Is it not often thus in the dealings of God with man?

There was no relaxation of effort, however, on the part of the crew until the breeze bore down on them. Then the mate and Hugh Morrison, drawing in their oars, set up the mast and hoisted the sails. Instantly the good craft bent over, as if bowing submissively to her rightful lord, and the gurgling water rolled swiftly from her prow. Still the men plied the oars, but now with the strength of hope, until the breeze freshened so much as to render their further use unnecessary.

"Now, indeed, the tables are turned," said Dominick with a great sigh of relief, as he drew in his oar.

"Yes; if the wind holds," said the doctor, glancing back anxiously.

"It'll howld," said Malone firmly.

"Who made you so sure a judge of weather?" demanded Jenkins.

"Sure it isn't me as is judge. It's the widdy. She says to me this mornin', says she, 'The'll be a stiff breeze afore night, Teddy,' an' I nivver found the widdy wrong in her forecasts o' the weather."

"The distance decreases rapidly! Hurrah! boys, we'll catch them yet," cried Dominick.

This was obviously the case. With her large sails filled by a stiff breeze almost directly astern, the boat went through the water like "a thing of life." The savages, perceiving this, redoubled their efforts, but in vain. The pursuers gained on them rapidly.

An exclamation of surprise burst from those in the boat as they observed two splashes, one on either side of the canoe, as if some one had fallen or leaped overboard. A great shout from the savages followed, and they suddenly ceased to paddle. The canoe was still too far off for the pursuers to make out what had occurred; but in another minute they observed that two round black objects emerged from the water some distance astern of the canoe. The savages also saw these, and uttered a frightful yell as they backed their craft towards them.

"They've jumped overboard!" exclaimed Dominick. "Now, boys—ready with your guns!"

No need for this order. All were ready in a second, but none dared to fire for fear of hitting the swimmers.

Just then a savage rose in the stern of the canoe and poised a short spear.

Instantly every gun in the boat was pointed.

"Not a shot!" shouted Dr Marsh, as he sprang forward with a double-barrelled rifle in his hand.

"Keep her away two points!" he cried, as he knelt to take aim. Every one was well aware of the doctor's power of shooting, and waited the result with bated breath. The savage seemed to bend backward for the cast of the spear. At that moment the crack of the doctor's rifle was heard, and the right arm of the savage fell.

Another savage caught up the spear, and urged his comrades, apparently, to back the canoe still further; but they had got a fright, and were evidently unwilling to do so. Before they could make up their minds, another shot from the doctor's rifle sent the second savage headlong into the bottom of the canoe.

"Give them a volley now, lads," he said, turning round and resuming his place at the helm; "but fire high."

The rattling volley which followed, and the whistle of the leaden hail over their heads, quickly settled the savage minds. One of their paddles, which chanced to be held aloft at the moment, was shot into splinters, and precipitated their decision. With a howl of rage and terror they dipped their paddles into the sea and flew ahead.

"Be ready there," cried the doctor, as he anxiously guided the boat.

Teddy Malone, Morris, Dominick, and Jabez leaned eagerly over the bows with outstretched arms and clawlike fingers. Another moment and Queen Pina with Otto were rescued from the deep, as well as from several sharks, which, doubtless, had been licking their lips at the prospect of the royal feast in store for them.

"Ain't you goin' to carry on, an' sink the varmints?" exclaimed Jabez in surprise, as the doctor put the helm hard down, and prepared to return home.

"No," replied the doctor sharply.

During the voyage out the crew of the wrecked ship had become intimately acquainted with the doctor's qualities, among others that there was a certain quiet tone in his "no" which was final. To put the belligerents of the party more at rest, however, Dominick backed his friend up by adding that he had no ill-will to the miserable savages; that they had been punished enough already; that they had got all they wanted from them; and that as their own party consisted chiefly of settlers, not warriors, there was no occasion for fighting.

"Speak for yourself, Dom," cried Otto, as he wrung the water out of his garments. "If I was in that canoe with a good carving-knife, I'd be warrior enough to give a settler to the baboon wi' the swelled nose who crammed me into a—"

The remainder of the speech was drowned in laughter, for Otto spoke with intense indignation, as he thought of the injuries and indignities he had so recently suffered.

"Why, what did they do to you, Otto?" asked his brother.

"Oh! I can't tell you," replied the other; "I'm too mad. Tell 'em, Pina."

Queen Pina, who had also been engaged for some minutes in wringing the water from her skirts, sat down, and, in the sweetest of voices, told how they had been surprised on the islet, how Otto had flattened a chief's nose with an oar, and how they had afterwards been carried off.

"Then," she added, "when they saw that you were unable to overtake them, the chief with the swelled nose began to beat poor Otto and pull his hair savagely. I do believe he would have killed him if a man, who seemed to be the leader of them all, had not ordered him to desist. When you put up the sail and began to overtake us, the chief with the swelled nose got out a rough kind of sack and tried to thrust Otto into it. While he was struggling with this chief—"

"Fighting," interrupted Otto; "fighting with the baboon."

"Well, fighting, if you prefer it—he asked me if I was brave?"

"No, I didn't; I said game."

"Well—if I was game to jump overboard at the same moment that he did? I quickly said yes. He twisted himself out of the man's—"

"Baboon's! baboon's!"

"Well—baboon's grasp, and went over the side like an eel, and—"

"And she," interrupted Otto, "she went plump on the other side like a sack of potatoes, and we met under the canoe and dived well astern before coming up for breath. You know what pains you took with our swimming and diving, Dom; it helped us then, I can tell you; and so here we are, all alive and hearty. But I saw the black fellow goin' to send a spear at Pina, and can't think why he didn't let fly. P'r'aps he did, and missed."

"No, he didn't; for Dr Marsh shot him in the arm," said Dominick, "and thus saved Pauline's life."

"Three cheers for the Queen!" cried little Buxley, who had done good service at the oar, and whose little bosom was filled with enthusiasm at the recital of this adventure.

The invitation was heartily responded to.

"An' wan more for the doctor!" shouted Malone.

In this rejoicing frame of mind they returned to Big Island, where Pauline was received with a warm embrace by the widow Lynch, who had been dancing about the settlement in a more or less deranged state ever since the boat left.

That same evening two meetings of considerable importance took place in the palace. The first was a cabinet council in the hall; the other a meeting of conspirators in the back-kitchen. Both were brief, for each was interrupted. We will take the cabinet council first.

The ministers present at it were the premier, Dominick and Dr Marsh, both of whom Joe had called to his aid.

"Now, my dear queen," said the premier, "we have met to consider the constitution; but before saying a word about it myself, I would like to hear what your majesty has to say about it."

"I'm not sure," said the queen gravely, "that I have the faintest notion as to how a constitution should begin or end. But I will give you a motto to set in the forefront of our constitution, which may also form the foundation on which it is to be built—the pattern to which its parts must conform. It is this: 'Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.'"

"I will set that down with pleasure," said Dominick, who acted as clerk, but, before he could write a line, a knock at the door interrupted them. Then the door opened, and Otto's head appeared with eagerness in the eyes, and a beckoning hand in advance.

Dominick rose and went out.

"I've just overheard Morris and Jabez in the back-kitchen making an appointment. Shall I tell our squad to be ready?"

"Where is the appointed place?" asked Dominick.

"On the reef. They start this very night, for the wind suits, and I heard Hugh say that all was ready."

"Good! I didn't think the game was so nearly played out. Well for us that we are prepared. Yes, call up the squad. We'll give them checkmate to-night."

It must be explained here that ever since the night of the discovery of the plot organised by Morris to seize and carry off the wrecked ship, Otto and his brother had kept a close watch on the men, and were aware of all their plans and intended movements. They had also communicated their knowledge to a select few, whom Otto styled the squad, who had pledged themselves to be ready at a moment's notice to do their best to circumvent the conspirators. Among other things Otto had discovered that Malines had agreed to join them, professing himself quite willing to act as second in command under Morris.

It may also be explained that though we have hitherto spoken of the vessel which had been cast on the reef as a wreck, it was in reality very slightly injured about the hull, and much of the damage done to the spars and rigging had been quietly repaired by the conspirators.

When darkness shrouded land and sea, two expeditions started from the settlement that night—one following the other. The conspirators in the largest boat set off first. As it was no unusual thing for a night expedition to the reef in order to transport supplies from the wreck in the morning, the departure of the large boat attracted little notice.

When it had got well away a smaller boat set off, containing the "squad," which numbered among its members Dominick, the doctor, Otto, Joe, and his brother David, Teddy Malone, little Buxley, John Nobbs the blacksmith, and others, all of whom were armed with revolvers.

They steered for a different part of the reef, so as to avoid being seen by the conspirators. On landing they passed through the old burial-ground and made for the Golden Cave. This place had, since the settlement on Big Island, been given over entirely to Pauline's use, and being styled the Queen's seaside palace, no one ever thought of entering it without permission. Hence the party of observation knew that it would be a secure place of ambush.

When safe inside, Dominick and Otto were deputed to go out as quietly as possible, note what Morris and his men were doing, and bring back a report.

"For," said the doctor, "if we interrupt them too soon they may pretend that this is one of their ordinary visits to the ship for supplies, and if we are too late they may get clear away in spite of us. We must strike when the iron is hot."

"Yes," said Otto, looking back as he followed his brother, "we'll look well to the heating process and let you know when they're white hot, so have your revolvers ready, my braves!"

"Och! shut your tatie-trap," cried Malone, but Otto, having shut the door, lost the advice.

The night was neither decidedly light nor dark. There might, indeed, to have been moonlight, but clouds veiled the light though they could not altogether obscure it; thus there was just enough to render objects dimly visible.

"All the better," whispered Dominick, as they turned the point of rock that hid the wreck from view. "We'll go down by the thicket. Keep close to my heels, boy, and drop on your hands and knees when you see me do so."

"All right, captain."

Gliding cautiously down in the direction indicated, they came at length to the seaward edge of the thicket, where the bushes, being less dense, permitted them to partially see the wreck. Here Dominick went on all-fours, appearing, as he crept slowly forward, like some sort of huge bear with no tail, and its hind feet turned the wrong way. Otto followed like a little bear with similar undignified peculiarities. Having advanced far enough to obtain a clear view of the wreck, the spies sank into the grass and crept forward a little way. Then they lay still a few moments and listened. They then raised their heads cautiously and looked. What they heard and saw puzzled them not a little.

First, they noted that the wreck did not seem to lie in the position, with which they had been so long familiar. Then, as their eyes became accustomed to the faint light, they observed that a small boat was moving busily about the vessel's bow, and that a group of dark scarce-distinguishable forms of men was standing on the shore. Presently there was heard a low, yet not unfamiliar growl. This was followed by a high yet not unfamiliar shriek, accompanied by a grating sound.

"Lions and cockatoos!" whispered Otto, who had crept up alongside of his brother by that time, "what can they be about?"

"Is that a line I see athwart the sky?" asked Dominick, "look—just between the wreck and the big ledge there."

Said Otto, "It's more than a line. I see it. Half a dozen lines at least, and something like a round lump in the middle of 'em. Don't you see it?—against the sky like a black moon—"

"Hush! boy—the growl again!"

"Ay, man, also the cockatoo."

"Oh! I have it now," whispered Dominick, with a low laugh; "they've rove blocks and tackle from the ship to the rocks, and are working them softly. Evildoers fear to be overheard, even when there's no chance of being so! Your lion, Otto, is the subdued yo-heave-ho of the men."

"I see," said Otto, with a grin so broad that his white teeth glistened even in the dark, "and my cockatoo is the unsubdued screeching of the block-sheaves! They must be trying to get the ship off the reef."

A heavy plunge at that moment told that the conspirators were not only trying but had succeeded, for the plunge was followed by an irresistible though powerfully suppressed cheer.

"We have not a moment to lose, Otto," whispered Dominick. "The ship is free, and they will only take time to carry the tackle aboard before embarking. Do you run back and bring the squad down at the double. I will keep our friends here in play till they come."

Not a word did Otto reply. He had acquired that first of requisites in a soldier or servant—the habit of prompt obedience. Somewhat like a North American savage, he sank into the grass and wriggled from the scene. A few moments later Dominick rose, and walked down towards the conspirators with the easy off-hand manner of a man who saunters forth to enjoy the night air. So busy were they getting the tackle into the boat that he was not observed until quite close to them.

"You seem busy to-night, friends," he said, in his usual pleasant tones, as he took his stand close beside Hugh Morris, who was near the bow of the boat.

"Mr Rigonda!" exclaimed Malines in great surprise, coming forward at the moment.

"Why are you surprised? It is not unusual for me to take a row on a fine night."

This reply seeming to imply that Dominick had come to the reef alone— perhaps in the dinghy—emboldened the men; some of them laughed.

"Well, I confess to being a little surprised, sir," replied the mate, "for it so happened that we were preparing something in the nature of a surprise for you and the rest of the settlers."

"Yes, I see," returned Dominick, in the same pleasant tone. "You've managed to get the ship off the ledge in a very creditable manner, and you mean to take her into the lagoon and cast anchor off the settlement?"

Again the men laughed lightly.

"No, sir, we don't," broke in Hugh Morris at this point, "we intend to take her in quite the opposite direction, and clear off to sea with her."

"Oh no, you don't, Hugh," returned Dominick, with an agreeable smile, which was a little perplexing as well as exasperating. "You are going into the lagoon; you know you are, and I have come to help you."

"But I say we are not!" retorted Morris, in rising wrath, "and what's more, you'll have to go along with us, now that you've had the ill-luck to fall in with us."

"Quite right, Hugh; didn't I say that I came off on purpose to go along with you?"

As he spoke there was heard a rushing sound of feet and a number of dark forms were seen approaching from the bushes.

"Betrayed!" shouted Malines. "Jump in, lads, and shove off!"

He sprang forward, but was instantly arrested by the muzzle of a revolver within a foot of his head.

"It's of no use, boys," said Dominick, laying his hand on the bow of the boat. "You'll have to enter it as dead men if you do so without my permission."

Had the men been armed it might have gone hard with Dominick at that moment, but so sure had they been of accomplishing their purpose unmolested, that the idea of arming had never crossed their minds. Before they could recover from the surprise or decide what to do, the armed squad was upon them.

"Halt! boys," cried Joe Binney, when close to the boat. "Now, look 'ee here. It warn't o' my seekin' that I was made prime minister, but now that it's bin done I'll stick to it an' do my duty. If ye knock under like good boys I'll recommend ye to the queen's marcy. If not I'll have 'ee strung up, every man jack of 'ee. Moreover, the first man as disobeys my orders I'll blow his brains out. Now, jump aboard, boys (turning to his own men), an' keep your revolvers handy. You lads as wanted to run away will follow."

The mixture of humour and resolution in Joe's manner, coupled with his well-known decision of character and his commanding size, had its effect. The squad instantly jumped into the boat, and the conspirators meekly followed without a word. They saw—as Hugh afterwards expressed it—that the game was up, and made up their minds to submit to the inevitable.

The conspirators were ordered to take the oars. Afterwards they were made to work the ship round into the channel leading to the lagoon, while their armed friends mounted guard over them.

It was daybreak when the ship sailed calmly over the lagoon towards Silver Bay.

"Och! man," said Teddy Malone, in a low voice, to Jabez Jenkins, who stood near him, "why did ye want to run away wid the owld ship? It wor a sneakin' sort o' thing, warn't it, seein' that the poor little childers, an' the women, depind so much on what's inside of her?"

"To tell 'ee the truth, Teddy," replied the man, an improved expression coming suddenly over his face, "I ain't sorry that we've bin stopped in this business, and, wot's more, I believe that most of us ain't sorry. We was more than half led into it, d'ee see, by lies as to what the leaders was goin' to do, an' arterwards we didn't like to draw back."

"I'm sorry for yez," returned Malone, "for I'm afeared we'll have to skrag the wan half of ye to keep the other half in order. In a spik an' span noo settlement, where ivvery wan thinks he may do as he likes, the laws has to be pritty stiff. We've wan comfort, howivver—the quane is marciful."

The Irishman was right in both his views on this subject, as the sequel will show.

Great was the surprise and joy among the settlers that morning when the fine ship in which they had traversed the ocean sailed grandly over the lagoon, and let go her anchor in Silver Bay. Some viewed her as a means of continuing the voyage, and escaping from a secluded life, of which they were beginning to tire. Others thought of her as a means of reopening intercourse with home, while not a few thought only of the convenience of having her and her useful cargo so near to them.

But great was their surprise when Malines, Morris, Jabez, and the rest of them were landed with their hands bound behind their backs; and still greater was that surprise when, in open court, that is, in the midst of the entire colony in the open air, these men were charged with their crime.

A regular criminal court was instituted on the spot, as regular, at least, as was possible, considering the almost total ignorance of all concerned in regard to matters of law. Queen Pauline appointed Dr Marsh to be judge, he being supposed to be the best acquainted with, or least ignorant of, legal matters and forms. A jury of twelve men were selected by lot, and little Buxley was appointed public prosecutor. In justice to the prisoners it was thought that they ought to have an advocate to defend them, but as no one would undertake the duty, that also was settled by lot, and the lot fell upon Redding, who, being a gentle and meek man, was perhaps best suited for it.

We may not go into the details of this celebrated trial, which lasted the greater part of the day, and was watched with intense eagerness by the entire population, including some of the older children, who had become impressed with the delightfully-horrible idea that a hanging or shooting, if not flaying and roasting, of some of the criminals would be the certain result. Suffice it to say that there was grievous irregularity in the proceedings: the public prosecutor not only proved the guilt of the men, but in the fervour of his indignation suggested the nature of their punishment; the jury not only listened to the facts of the case, but commented on them freely throughout, and, usurping the judge's office, pronounced sentence on the criminals three or four times over; while the judge himself had the greatest possible difficulty in keeping anything like order all round.

The only man who performed his duty calmly was Redding, who, in a speech that quite surprised and transfixed the hearers, sought to point out that the men on trial had not actually committed the crime, with which they had been charged, that of seizing the ship, but had only contemplated it, as had been alleged, though even that had not been clearly proved; that, supposing the crime to have been committed, it was a first offence, and that justice should always be tempered with mercy, as was taught in that best of all law-books, the Bible.

The pleading of this man had considerable effect, but it could not turn the tide of feeling in favour of the principal prisoners for more than one reason. They had been domineering, turbulent fellows all along; they had meditated a crime which would have robbed the settlers of many of the necessaries and all the luxuries of life, and this displayed a meanness of spirit which, they thought, deserved severe punishment.

Accordingly, after they had been pronounced guilty by the unanimous voice of the jury, and after the judge had consulted earnestly with some members of the privy council, Malines and Morris were condemned to a fortnight's imprisonment on short allowance of the poorest food, and the other criminals to the same for a week.

When Malines had been seized and bound on board the ship, he had submitted, partly from prudence, and partly from a belief that the whole affair was a sort of half joke but when he found himself rebound, after the trial, and cast with his companions into a solid wooden building with a strong door and no window, which had been erected as a sort of fortress in which to put the women and children in case of attack by the savages, and there provided with maize and water for food and straw for bed, he began to realise the fact that he had indeed fallen into the hands of resolute men and under the power of law.

"I wouldn't mind it so much if they'd only not cut off our baccy," he groaned, on the afternoon of the following day, after a prolonged fit of sullen silence.

"After all it sarves us right," growled Hugh Morris.

"Speak for yourself," said Jabez Jenkins sulkily.

"That's just what I do," retorted Hugh.

"Hear, hear!" from some of the others.

What this conversation might have grown to no one can tell, for it was interrupted by the opening of the prison door and the entrance of a party of armed men.

"I am directed," said Otto, who was in command of the party, "to bring you fellows before the queen, so, come along."

Half amused by and half contemptuous of the leader, who gave his orders as if he were a powerful giant, the prisoners rose and marched out.

While this scene was taking place in the jail, the widow Lynch was holding a private interview with the queen in the palace.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

SHOWS HOW THE QUEEN CONDUCTED HERSELF IN TRYING CIRCUMSTANCES, AND WAS FINALLY DETHRONED.

"Now, darlin'," said Mrs Lynch to Queen Pauline, as she sat on the side of her bed looking contemplatively at the floor, "thim rascals'll be in the Hall in two minits, so take me advice and give them more nor they've got."

"But my object in sending for them is not to add to their punishment," said the queen.

"More's the pity, for they need it, an' the Coort was too tinder wi' them intirely. Two weeks! why, two months would do them more good. Anyhow, see that ye give them a fearful blowin' up."

"I'll do what I can for them," returned Pina, with a pleasant laugh, as she rose and passed into the Audience Hall, where the prisoners and as many of the settlers as could find room were already gathered.

Here a slight change of feeling seemed to have taken place in the people. Perhaps the sight of Hugh and Malines—two men who had, up till that time, carried matters with rather a high hand—bound, humbled, helpless, and with bits of straw which had been given them as bedding sticking to their garments, induced a touch of pity. At all events, there was none of that riotous demand for vengeance which had characterised them when under the influence of excitement at the trial. Evidently a slight reaction in favour of the culprits had set in, and the entrance of the queen, therefore, took place in solemn silence, no one knowing why she had sent for the men or what were her intentions. Poor Pauline was much embarrassed by the silence, and by the situation, in which she found herself. Being a girl of mind, and not a mere human machine made and content to run always on beaten paths, she had resolved to try an experiment, and braced herself to the duty.

It was by no means a new experiment; on the contrary, it was older than this world's history, though new to Pauline in the particular circumstances—being an application of the law of mercy.

"My friends," said Pina, in a somewhat tremulous voice, which however became firmer as she proceeded, "this is the first trial that has taken place in our little colony, and as crime must be firmly repressed—"

("Punished, my dear—putt it stronger!" came in a whisper from the side door, where widow Lynch was listening; but, fortunately, none of the audience heard her.)

"I feel," continued Pauline, taking no notice of the advice, "that it becomes me, as your chosen queen, to do what I think will be best for the interests of the community."

"Hear, hear!" exclaimed some of the audience; but they gave no further expression to their feelings, being still uncertain as to the queen's leanings.

"No doubt," continued Pina, trying, not quite successfully, to swallow the lump in her throat, "the punishment which you have awarded these men is in strict accordance with your ideas of justice, and, being utterly ignorant of law, I will not presume to doubt the wisdom of your decision; nor would I interfere, either by increasing or decreasing the punishment, did I not feel that this case is peculiar, very peculiar. It is, as I have said, the beginning of crime in our kingdom, and little beginnings, you all know, often lead to great results. A small leak may sink a ship. Then, in the second place, this is the first offence committed by these men, and first offences require peculiar treatment—"

("That's so, my dear—powerful treatment. Give it 'em hot!" inaudibly whispered the widow.)

"Turning to that Book," continued Pauline, "which shall be my guide in every act of life, I find that God 'delighteth in mercy.' Can I go wrong in following humbly in His footsteps? I think not. Therefore, I venture to exercise the privilege of my position, and extend mercy to these men. The law has been vindicated by their trial and condemnation. I now, in accordance with constitutional right, bestow on them a free pardon."

This, being rapidly uttered, quite took the people by surprise, and caused them to burst into a ringing cheer, above which the no longer inaudible voice of the widow was heard to exclaim—

"Free parding, indeed!" in tones of indignant contempt, as she shut the door with a bang and retired in disgust from the scene.

"I do not know," said the queen, when silence was restored, "on what particular officer of my household," (a confused little smile and blush here), "falls the duty of setting crim—I mean forgiven men free, so I now order the prime minister to cut their bonds."

Amid some laughter, Joe readily drew forth an enormous clasp-knife and obeyed this command. Then the queen, stepping forward, held out her hand with a bright smile to Hugh Morris. None but an utterly abandoned wretch could have resisted that. Hugh gave in at once—seized the hand, and not only shook it, but kissed it heartily. So did Malines, and so did the others, and then they all dispersed—Teddy Malone signalling his exit with a cheer and a shout to the following effect—

"Hooroo! boys—she's ivvery inch a quane, an' two or three eighths over—cut an' dry, ready-made, hot off the irons! We're in luck—eh! boys, aren't we?"

The latter remark was made, with a hearty slap on the back, to little Buxley, who, turning at once and grasping Malone in his arms, went in for a vigorous wrestle by way of relieving his feelings.

Whatever may be thought of this matter by men deep in the learning of human law, we feel bound to put on record that this plan of Queen Pauline the First proved a great success, for, from that day forward, Malines and Morris and all the other conspirators became excellent members of the community—gave up all ideas of piracy on the high seas, set to work like men to fence in their properties, cultivate their farms, prosecute their fisheries, and otherwise to make themselves useful. Another result was that Silver Bay Settlement began to flourish.

Similar results usually happen when men give up quarrelling and take to working. The schoolroom was soon finished. The queen had her Bible classes—plenty of Bibles having been found in the ship—and Dominick even went the length of venturing to conduct special services on Sundays.

But, strange to say, the more things prospered on the island, the more pensive became the queen, as well as Otto and his brother. It was not so with Dr Marsh, however. Some unknown influence seemed to keep him always in a hearty frame of mind.

"I can't help it, Dom," said the queen, as she walked on the white shore of Silver Bay one evening while the sun was descending in a golden blaze, "I can't bear to think of them."

Poor Pauline's mind was running on a cheery bald little old gentleman in Java, and a mild little spectacled old lady, with knitting proclivities, in England, whose chief solace, in a humble way, was an elderly female cat.

"Am I never to see them again?" she added, as she sat down on a coral rock, buried her fair face in her hands, and wept.

Dominick tried to comfort her, but in vain.

"It's all very well what you say, Dom, but here we are settling down as if we meant to stay for ever. Even Otto talks less than he used to about Robinson Crusoe, and no ships ever come near us, and the sailors don't want to quit the islands, so we can't even use the ship we have got, and—and—O darling mother! and dear, dear papa!"

If Queen Pina, who broke down at this point, had only known that, about the time she was speaking, the dear papa was running for his life, covered with mud from head to foot, in the midst of thunder and fire and smoke, she might have mingled horror with loving emphasis as she mentioned his name.

At the time of which we write, the island of Java, in the Malay Archipelago, was convulsed by one of those tremendous earthquakes which have at irregular intervals, from time immemorial, shattered its mountains, overwhelmed some of its fairest lands, and killed thousands of its inhabitants. It is not our intention, however, to touch on this subject more than will suffice to elucidate our tale.

Deeply interesting is it, at times, to note the intimate connection that sometimes exists between places and events which seem exceedingly remote. One would imagine that the eruption of a volcanic mountain in Java could not have much influence on the life or fortunes of people living on an island nearly a thousand miles distant from the same. Yet so it was, in a double sense, too, as we shall see.

The great shock in Java, which overturned the bald little old gentleman's chair, causing him to spring up and exclaim to his partner, "Hallo, Brooks!" passed through the intervening earth, losing much of its power on the way, caused Refuge Islands to tremble, and Pauline to look up suddenly with the exclamation—

"What's that Dom?"

"It is marvellously like an earthquake, Pina."

Strange to say, Brooks in Java made precisely the same remark, at about the same moment, to his senior partner.

Thereafter old Mr Rigonda, who didn't like earthquakes, said to Brooks—who didn't mind earthquakes, being used to them—

"I'll start off for England immediately."

He did start off, even more immediately than he had intended, for the neighbouring volcano, as if angered by his remark, sent up a shock that shook the surrounding houses to their foundations. The senior partner rushed out in terror, and was just in time to receive a shower of mud and ashes while he fled away through fire and smoke, as already mentioned.