Yes, I would ask her, as soon as I had an opportunity of speaking to her alone. It was true that she had once told me that she would never part from Lucia—and Lucia had often spoken to me of their plans for the future.

But, my vanity whispered, she would listen to me She cared for me, I was sure, and would not long hesitate. We were certain to meet with at least one missionary going through the Carolines, and he would many us. If we did not, it would not matter—there were half a dozen Spanish priests in Guam. Then after our marriage I would go on in the boat to Amboyna, where I had a business friend, a rich trader—a man who liked and trusted me, and who would give me a thousand, ay, two thousand pounds' worth of trade goods for my pencilled I.O.U. in his notebook. Then I would buy a little schooner, and sail with Niabon to the islands of the south-eastern Pacific, and begin trading. I would make Rapa, in the Austral Group, my head station, or else Manga Reva in the southern Paumotus—Niabon should decide.

The low cloud to windward lifted, the red sun leapt from the sea-rim, and then I felt a soft hand on my arm.

"What are you thinking of, Jim? I called you twice, but you did not hear. I believe you were talking to yourself, for I twice saw you throw out your arm as if you were speaking to some one."

"I believe I was, Lucia," I replied with a laugh. "I was day-dreaming."

"Tell me, Jim," she said softly, so softly that her voice sank to a whisper.

"Not now, Lucia. Wait till we get to the next land." And then in all innocence I added, as I looked at her, "How bright and happy you look, Lucia! I think you grow more beautiful every day."

She lifted her eyes to mine for one instant, and I saw in them a light I had never seen before.



CHAPTER XIV

"Te fanua, te fanua! te fanua umi, umi lava!" ("Land, land! a long, long land!")

As we, the "watch below"—Niabon, Tepi, and myself—heard Tematau's loud cry, we sat up, and saw a long, dark line pencilled on the horizon right ahead, which we knew was the great lonely atoll named Providence Island on the charts, and called Ujilon by the natives of the North-Western Pacific.

It was daylight of the sixth day out from Kusaie, and as I stood up to get a better view of the land I was well satisfied.

"We have done well," I said exultantly to Lucia, who was steering: "three hundred and forty miles in five days—with a two-knot current against us all the way!"



I did not know my way into Ujilon Lagoon, for I had never been there before, so I now had some trouble in picking up one of the two passages on the south side of the great atoll. At seven o'clock, just as we were entering it, we saw a barque lying on the reef about half a mile away to the northward. She was a good lump of a vessel—apparently of about seven or eight hundred tons, and the remnants of some of her upper canvas still fluttered to the breeze. We could discern no sign of life about her, nor were any boats visible; but we had no time to examine her just then, so sailed on across the lagoon, and, instead of dropping anchor, ran gently on to the beach of a densely wooded island, for the water was not only as smooth as glass, but very deep, the "fall" from the edge of the beach being very steep.

In an hour we had lightened the boat sufficiently to float her along a narrow waterway, which wound a sinuous course through the solid coral rock into a little basin or natural dock, where we could board her at either low or high water, without wetting our feet, though she had a clear fathom of water under her keel.

The lagoon seemed alive with large and small fish—none of which, Niabon said, were poisonous, like two thirds of those of the Marshall Island atolls, and the beaches and sand-flats were covered with small golden-winged plover, who displayed not the slightest fear of our presence, letting us approach them within a few yards, then rising and settling down again. From where we were we could see but seven of the chain of fifteen islands which comprised the atoll; all of these were thickly covered with coco palms, bearing an enormous crop of nuts, and here and there groves of jack-fruit and pandanus broke the monotonous beauty of the palms by their diversity of foliage.

No traces of natives were visible, though I knew that there were a few—about thirty all told—for the redoubtable Captain Bully Hayes, who claimed Ujilon as his own, and whose brig was the first ship to enter the lagoon, had I knew established friendly intercourse with them. Two years before, I had met the famous captain at Anchorite's Islands—to the north of the Admiralty Group—when he had given me a description of Ujilon and its marvellous fertility, and had tried to induce me to go there with him with a gang of natives, and make oil for him. But although he made me a most liberal offer—he was a most delightful man to talk to, was the "South Sea pirate"—I did not trust him well enough, despite his merry, laughing blue eyes, jovial voice and handsome face, for he was a man who could be all things to all men; and the blue eyes sometimes went black, and the smooth, shapely hand that was for ever stroking the long flowing beard, liked too well to feel a trigger in the crook of its forefinger. So I laughingly declined his offer—even when, as an extra inducement, he pointed out to me a very handsome young Marshall Island girl, who would do the station honours for me at Ujilon.

"All right, Mr. Sherry," he said, "please yourself;" and then over another bottle of wine, he gave me some further particulars about the great atoll, and told me of how it had taken him two months to get into communication with the few inhabitants; and of the particular island on which their village was concealed amid a dense grove of pandanus palms. But that was two years ago, and I had forgotten much that he had told me. However, as I intended to remain at Ujilon for two or three days, it was likely that we might come across them—they were very quiet and inoffensive people, so there was no danger to be apprehended from a meeting.

By noon we had our temporary camp made comfortable, and were having dinner when five natives made their appearance—three men and two women—coming towards us in a canoe. They landed without the slightest hesitation, and sat down with us; but we found that they spoke the Marshall Island dialect, which none of us but Niabon could speak, and she but slightly. However, we managed to worry along, and to our surprise learned that Hayes had been at the island in his famous brig, the Leonora, only a month before, and that for a year and six months previously, seventy Line Island natives had been working on the islands under the supervision of a white man, making oil for the captain, but most of them, and the white man as well, had left the atoll in the brig, for Hayes had been so well pleased with the result of their work that he invited forty of the seventy to come on board and go with him to Ponape, in the Carolines, for a month's recreation and "feasting" on that beautiful island.



So with forty of his sturdy Line Islanders, and seven hundred barrels of coco-nut oil, he had sailed; and now, said our five friends, he would soon be back—perhaps in two days—perhaps in ten, or twenty, or more, for how could one tell what the winds would be? He was a good man, was the captain, but hot and sudden in his anger, over-fond of women who were good to look at, and cruel to those who sought to cross his desire; but generous—always generous—and kind to those who were weak and ill, giving them good medicine and rich food; tins of the red rich fish called samani which came from his own country, and biscuit and bread such as white men eat. Ah, he was a good man was "Puli Ese" (Bully Hayes).

"Ask them about the wretched ship on the reef," I said to Niabon, repeating the first question I had tried to put to them, but which they did not answer, so eager were they to tell us about Captain Hayes and themselves; "ask them all about her—when did she run ashore, and where are the crew?"

Ah, the ship, the great ship! they replied. She had run up on the reef one night four moons ago, when the sky was bright and clear, and the wind blew strongly; and when in the morning they discerned her from the village, the white man had two boats manned to go to her assistance, but as the boats approached, two cannons fired heavy balls at them from the deck of the ship; and although the white man (Hayes's trader) tied his handkerchief to an oar and held it upright, the people on the ship continued to fire on the boats with the big cannons, and with muskets, and then, when one man was hit by a bullet and died quickly, the white man cursed those on the ship for fools, and turned the boats shoreward again, saying that those on board could perish before he would try to help them again. By sunset three boats, filled with men, had left the ship and sailed to the south. In the morning the white man (whom I knew from their description of him to be a well-known and decent South Sea trader named Harry Gardiner) boarded the ship and began to remove all that was of value on shore. Her hold was filled with all sorts of goods in barrels and cases, and when "Puli Ese" came, three months later, he was well pleased, not only for the seven hundred barrels of oil, but with the many things that had been gotten from the wrecked ship.

We promised our new friends to come up to their village—where they and about twenty of their fellow islanders lived with the remainder of Bully Hayes's Line Island contingent—on the following day, and sent them away with a few trifling presents. As they said they could walk back, and I wanted to have a look at the wreck, they cheerfully agreed to let their canoe remain with us.

About four in the afternoon, as the heat of the sun began to relax, I determined to set out in the canoe. Tematau and Tepi had gone across to the weather side of the island with my gun to shoot plover and frigate birds, of which latter, so the natives had told us, there were great numbers to be found on the high trees to windward. Lucia and Niabon were resting in the shade, but the latter, when she saw me pushing the canoe into the water, asked me to let her come also.

"Yes, of course; and you too, Lucia. Won't you come as well?" I said.

"No, Jim. I feel very lazy, and I'm always so afraid of canoes," she said with a smile, "and do be careful and not be capsized; look at all those horrid sharks swimming about—I can see nearly twenty of them from where I am sitting."

Both Niabon and I laughed at her fears—the sharks were not man-eaters, as we knew by their black-tipped fins, though the species were dangerous when bad weather made the fish on which they preyed scarce; then they became vicious and daring enough, and would at times actually tear the oars out of the hands of a boat's crew. However, Lucia would not come, saying she would await the return of the men and pluck the plover which they were sure to bring back with them.

"Very well, Lucia," I said, "we'll leave you to yourself. I must have a look at the barque, and find out her name. Wrecks have always had an attraction for me; and, besides that, I want to get a sheet or two of copper to nail over our stem, which was badly hurt when we ran ashore in Apamama Lagoon."

In another minute or two Niabon and I started, she sitting for'ard and I aft. The wind had died away, and the surface of the lagoon was as smooth as glass, and, through the crystal-clear water, we could discern the glories of the gorgeously-hued coral forest below. Is there such another sight in all the world as is revealed when you look down upon the bottom of a South Sea atoll.

*****

Ah, no, there cannot be! And here as I write, there is before me the cold German Ocean, heaving and tumbling; grey, grim, and sullen under a dulled and leaden sky, and snowflakes beat and beat incessantly upon the opened windows of my room. Out upon the moor there is a flock of snow-white seagulls, driven to land by the wild weather, and as I gaze at them, fluttering to and fro, their presence seems to creep into my heart, and their wild, piping notes to say, "You will go back, you will go back, and see some of us again; not here, under cold skies, but where the bright sun for ever shines upon a sea of deepest blue."

*****

For half an hour or more we paddled in silence over the smooth waters of that sweet lagoon, the bow of the canoe kept steadily on towards the wrecked barque; and as I looked at the graceful figure of my companion, with her dark, glossy hair flowing over her back and swaying to and fro with every stroke, and saw the graceful poise of her head, and the backward sweep of her two little hands as she plunged her paddle into the water, and withdrew it swiftly and noiselessly, I felt that I could not, I must not delay in asking her to be my wife. Not that her physical beauty had so wrought upon my feelings—I was above that, I thank God, and a level brain—but because I felt that I loved her, ay, honestly loved her, and that she was a good and true woman, and our union would be a happy one.

It took us much longer than we anticipated in coming up to the stranded ship, or rather to the inside edge of the reef on which she lay, high and dry, half a mile further to seaward. Taking my hammer and a blunt chisel—to prize off a sheet of copper—we made the canoe fast to a coral boulder, and set off across the reef, which gave forth a strong but sickly odour caused by the heat of the sun acting on the many-coloured and many-shaped marine organisms and living coral.

Niabon, whose feet were protected by strong takka (sandals woven of coco-nut fibre), stepped lightly and swiftly on before me; I with my heavy boots crushing into the brittle, delicate, and sponge-like coral, startling from their sunbaths hundreds of black and orange-banded sea-snakes—reptiles whose bite is as deadly as that of a rattlesnake, but which hastened out of our way almost as soon as they heard our footsteps. Here and there we had to turn aside to avoid deep pools, some of which, though not more than ten fathoms in width, were as blue as the ocean beyond, their rocky walls starting sheer up from their bases to the crust of the reef.



At last we reached the ship, and stood under her bowsprit. She was standing almost upright, wedged in tightly between three huge boulders, one on her port, and two on her starboard side, and I saw that she had struck with great violence, for just abreast of her foremast there was a jagged hole through which we could see into her lower hold. The natives had told us that there had been an unusually high tide when she ran ashore, and had it not been for her bringing up against the boulders, she might have torn her way over the reef into the lagoon, as she was under a strong press of sail, and the sea was smooth, and the stars shining brightly. Most of her copper had been stripped off by Hayes, but later on I found all I wanted by crawling under the bilge, and prizing off a few undamaged sheets.

"Let us find out her name before we go on board," I said to my companion. "She's a foreigner, I'm sure."

Walking round to her stern we looked up and saw her name, Agostino Rombo, Livorno, painted in white letters.

"Ah, I thought she was a foreigner, Niabon. I fancy we shall find a strong smell of garlic as soon as we get on deck."

Turning up along the port side, we soon found an easy way of getting on board, for just abreast of the mainmast Hayes's Chinese carpenters had cut down the main deck from the water-ways to the bilge, so as to give free access to the upper and lower holds.

We first examined the lower hold, which contained about two hundred tons of New Caledonian nickel ore, and which, valuable as it was, Hayes had not troubled about removing. In the 'tween deck there was nothing to show of what the main portion of her cargo had consisted—everything had been removed, and only great piles of dunnage remained, and I came to the conclusion that the Agostino Rombo of Leghorn had been bound from some Australian port to China with a general cargo, when her incapable skipper ran her ashore—to Bully Hayes's satisfaction and benefit.

Ascending from the dark and silent 'tween decks, where our footsteps and voices echoed and re-echoed as though we were walking and speaking in some mountain cavern, we ascended to the main deck into the fresh, sweet daylight, though the sun was now low down on the western sky, and the first thing that attracted our attention was a lengthy notice on the mainmast, carefully and neatly painted on a sheet of copper. And as I read it, I could but laugh at Captain Hayes's natural American business instincts, combined with his usual humorous mendacity—

"Notice to Wrecking Parties.

"I, William Henry Hayes, master and owner of the brig Leonora, of Shanghai, hereby notify all and sundry that the barque Agostino Rombo, of Leghorn, as she now lies on this reef, has been purchased by me from Captain Pasquale Lucchesi, and any person attempting to remove any of her deck-houses, spars, anchors, or cables, or certain nickel ore in the lower hold, are liable to be indicted for piracy. But all anchors, cables, and ground tackle generally may be removed on payment of 250 dols. to my native agent on this island."

From the main deck we ascended to the poop, and went below into the now darkening cabin, which we found was gutted of everything of value, except the captain's and officers' bedding, which had been tossed aside by Hayes and his crew, and which even the natives of Ujilon had regarded as too worthless to take away, though many a poor sailor man, shivering in northern seas, would have clutched at them as eagerly as a Jew pawnbroker would clutch at a necklace of pearls or a diamond-set tiara. The panelling of the main cabin was painted in white and gold, and presented a very handsome appearance, and on the door of every stateroom was an exceedingly well-painted picture of some saint renowned in history—evidently the owners of the Agostino Rombo were of pious minds. Underneath one of these pictures, that of St. Margaret of Hungary, was scribbled in pencil, "Maggie is my fancy. Frank Hussey, mate brig Leonora."

I scratched out the ribald words with my knife, and then we went up through the companion to the poop, and looked along the deserted deck, whose once white planking was now cracking and discolouring under the fierce rays of the torrid sun, to which it had been exposed for four months.

We sat down together on a seat, which was placed for-ard of the skylight, and gazed at the lofty masts and spars, which, denuded of all their running gear, stood out stark, grim, and mournful against the rays of a declining sun. On the fore-topgallant yard a frigate bird and his mate stood, oblivious of our presence, and looking shoreward at the long, long line of verdure clothing the islets four miles away.

"Simi," said Niabon, clasping her little brown hands together at the back of her head, and leaning against the skylight, "we must return to the canoe ere the tide riseth, for, see, the sun is low down, and Lucia will think that some harm hath befallen us if we delay."

She spoke in Samoan, the language she generally used when we were alone, for she could express herself better in it even than in English, so she said, though both Lucia and myself had often told her, not banteringly, that her English was sweet to hear.

"Heed not the sinking sun, Niabon," I replied, in the same language, "the tide will not yet cover the reef for an hour or more, and the night will be bright and clear.... Niabon, turn thy face to me."

I took her hand and drew her closer to me.

"Niabon, I love thee. I have loved thee since the time when thou first saidst to me, 'Shall I give thee sleep?' And for ever since hast thou been in my mind. See, I have loved no other woman as I love thee, and it is my heart's desire to make thee my wife."

She drew herself away from me with blazing eyes.

"Thy wife, thy wife! Simi, what madness is this? Hast thou no eyes to see? Is thy mind so dull that thou dost not know that Lucia hath loved thee, and that even at this moment her heart acheth for thy return. Dost thou not know?"

"I care not for her but as a friend," I said hotly; "'tis thee alone I desire. Thou art always in my mind, and I will be good and true to thee, Niabon; for I love thee well. Be my wife. Together thee and I——"

The angry light in her eyes died out, and she placed her cheek to mine.

"Simi, I care more for thee than for any one in the world, save Lucia, and Lucia hath all my heart and all my love. And she so loves thee, Simi—she so loves thee that it is her heart's desire to be thy wife.... Come, dear friend, let us return and forget all but that Lucia awaits."

She passed her hand softly over my face, pressed her lips to my forehead, and then I followed her down from the silent deck on to the reef, and thence onwards to the canoe.



CHAPTER XV

All that she said to me that night as we returned over the stilly waters of the lagoon to our companions, I cannot now remember; I only know that as she sat facing me, and I paddled slowly and dreamily along, I promised her, dully and mechanically, to tell Lucia that night that I loved her.

"And she and thee will be happy, very happy, Simi. Her heart went out to thee from the very first. And children will come to thee, and I shall see them grow—the boys strong and brave as thou art, and the girls fair and sweet as Lucia—and yet shalt thou have thy heart's desire, and be spoken of as a man who did a great deed... a great voyage... and all that hath been done by the three men of whom thou hast so often thought will be but as little compared with this voyage of thine. And she so loves thee, Simi; ah, she so loves thee."

The soft murmur of her voice enthralled, took such possession of me mentally and physically, that I know not what I answered except that I said again and again, "Ay, I love her, I love her, and I shall tell her of my love, and that she, and she alone, is my heart's desire."

How long we were in getting back to the island I cannot tell, but I do remember that it was quite dark, and both Niabon and myself were paddling vigorously when we heard Tepi's load hail of welcome, and a canoe shot up on the beach, and Lucia came towards me with outstretched hands.

"Jim, oh Jim! I thought you were never coming back," she said.

I folded her in my arms and kissed her. "Lucia, dear, dear Lucia! Will you be my wife? For I love you," and then, scarcely knowing what I was doing, I strained her almost savagely to my bosom, and kissed her upturned face again and again.

"Jim, dear, dear Jim," and her soft arms were around my neck, "and I love you too! I have loved you almost from the day you first came to Taritai, and Niabon has told me that one day you would tell me that you loved me... that some day you would speak... Jim dearest, bend down; you are so tall, and I am so little; ah, Jim, I am so little, but my heart, dear, is so big with love for you, that I feel that I could take you in my arms, and kiss you as you now kiss me. Jim, dear, I never, never knew what love meant till now."

A bright burst of flame illumined the beach, and Niabon with a torch in her hand was standing at the water's edge.

"The night is fair and good, and the wind is from the east. Let us away, dear friends."

Her voice seemed to reach me as if from far, far away, though her dark face with the deep luminous eyes were so near, and, as she spoke, the boat, with Tepi and Tematau standing erect and waiting, grounded gently on the strand.

"Yes, yes, we shall sail to-night," I cried exultantly, as I again pressed Lucia to my heart, and showered passionate kisses upon her lips, "we shall sail, Lucia my dearest; on, and on, and on, to the north-west, my beloved, till we come to our journey's end, and you and I shall never part again, no never, never, my dearest."

"Ay, never, never shall ye two part again," cried Niabon, casting down her torch; "man with the strong and daring hand, and woman with the fond and tender heart. Thy lives are forever linked together. Quick, give me thy hand, Lucia, my dove, my own, my own!" She sprang towards us, and took Lucia's hand in hers, and almost tore off her wedding ring, and then flung it far out into the lagoon.

"Sink, sink, thou ring of misery—thou golden circle which should have meant love and trust and happiness, but brought naught but hate and treachery and poison to her who wore it. Sink, accursed thing."

"Oh, Jim, Jim!" and Lucia turned her streaming eyes to mine, "it was my wedding ring, and when he gave it to me, I think he loved me, wicked and cruel as he was afterwards. Oh, Niabon, Niabon!" In a moment Niabon's arms were around her. "My sweet, my sweet! thou art to me more than life," she whispered, "I love thee so, Lucia. I love thee so that I would die for thee! Heed not the ring, for now thou hast beside thee a good man—true, brave, and strong—one whose love will forever shield thee. Come, my dearest, come with me to the boat."

They went down the beach together, with arms around each other's waists, and their footsteps guided by the still-burning torch lying on the sand. I followed, and in another minute I had the tiller in my hand, and told Tepi to push off, as Tematau ran up the jib.

"How now for the passage?" I cried, as I slipped my arm around Lucia's waist, and her lips met mine, "how now for the passage, Tepi? Canst see? Canst see, Tematau?"

Niabon placed her hand on mine.

"Have no fear, Simi. The wind is fair and the passage through the reef is wide, and the ship on the right hand is a good guide. See, her masts stand out clear against the sky. And give me the tiller, for thou and Lucia are tired. So sleep—sleep till the dawn, and Tematau and Tepi and I shall keep watch through the night. How shall I steer?"

"North-west, north-west," I muttered, as Lucia laid her cheek to mine, "north-west, but call me if the wind hauls to the northward."

She bent oyer Lucia and touched her face softly.

"Sleep, dear one, sleep till dawn," she said in a whisper, and then with a smile she turned to me.

"Simi, thou too art tired, and must sleep even as Lucia sleepeth now. See, her eyes are closed. How sweet and fair she is as she sleepeth! Ah, how sweet! So, let me touch thy face." She pressed her soft hand on my brow, and then, with Lucia's head pillowed on my breast, I slept.



CHAPTER XVI

For seventeen days we made good progress to the north-west, though we met with such very heavy weather when between Minto Breakers Beef, and the island of Oraluk, that I had to run back to the latter place for shelter, and all but missed it. Although so small, it is very fertile, and the natives were very hospitable, Niabon and Lucia being given a room in the chief's house, and I and my two men were given a house to ourselves, where we were very comfortable during our stay of four days, though unable to get about on account of the pouring rain, which hardly ceased for an hour. The chief's house was quite near to that in which we were quartered, so I spent a good deal of my time there, for although I cannot say that I was really in love with my future wife, her gentle endearments, and the happiness that shone in her dark eyes when I was with her gave me a certain restfulness, and I was well content.

We had long since decided as to our future. After our marriage she was to stay with her sister, or with my friends, the Otano's, on Guam, whilst I made my way to my friend at Amboyna, and got him to provide me with such an amount of trade goods that when I returned to Guam I should be in a position to at once begin trading operations either in the Marianas, with Guam for my headquarters, or else choose some suitable place in the Caroline Archipelago. The boat, I had no doubt, I could sell at San Luis d'Apra, or San Ignacio, and this I intended to do if a fair price was offered me. Then I would take passage in one of the Spanish trading schooners to Manila, and from there I could easily get to Amboyna; and all going well, it was more than likely that my friend would lend or sell me on easy terms, one of his own small trading vessels, for he had half a dozen or more employed throughout the Moluccas, and on the coast of the Phillipine Islands.

On the second day after our arrival on Oraluk, the rain cleared off for an hour, and I went over to the chief's house, and found Lucia conversing in Spanish with some native women who could speak it brokenly, for years before there had been a Jesuit mission on the island, but it had been abandoned, and the two priests, after a stay of five years, had gone back to Manila. Niabon was not in the house—she had gone into the forest with some of the young girls, Lucia said, as she bade me come in and sit down.

"She is a strange girl, Lucia. She seems to love to be in the forest, or walking on the cliffs or mountain tops. I wish I knew the true story of her life."

Lucia shook her head. "She will not tell it, Jim, and I am sure she does not like to be questioned even by me. But yet she has told me a little, and there can be no harm in my telling you—I am sure she would not mind."

"No, why should she mind?"

"She told me that her very first memories of her childhood go back to when she was a child of six at Manhiki. She lived alone with her mother in a little hut quite apart from the other people. Even then she says she knew that her mother was a 'witch-woman' and was greatly feared by the natives, who yet came to her for charms and medicines. Who her mother was she does not know—but she is quite certain that she was a full-blooded Polynesian, though not a native of Manhiki. Her father she had never seen, nor had her mother ever made even the faintest allusion to him, and Niabon herself had never dared question her on the subject. She told me, however, that she imagined he was a white man."

"I am almost sure he was," I said; "she certainly is not a full-blooded native."

"I am sure of it too. But she does not like to be thought anything but a pure native. Why, I cannot tell, and have never asked her her reasons."

"Is her mother still living?"

"I do not know and do not like to ask her. She told me that she, her mother, and Tematau had left Manhiki and wandered through the islands of the South Pacific for many years. Tematau she says is a blood relation. He only took service as head boatman with Krause so as to be near her, for from the very first day she saw me, she determined to live at Taritai. And we have always been the closest friends."

"I know she loves you very dearly," I said, as I rose to return to my house, for just then we saw Niabon herself coming through the village accompanied by a number of young women.

We left Oraluk with a slashing breeze, which we held for eight days, the boat doing splendid work, and on the morning of the tenth day we sighted Guam, forty miles away, and looming blue against the sky line.

"Three thousand miles," I cried exultingly, "three thousand miles, Lucia—in fact, nearer three thousand two hundred."

Her dark eyes filled with tears as she pressed my hand and looked at the home of her childhood, and even Niabon showed some trace of excitement as she bent her glance upon the great mound of land.

I opened our one remaining bottle of wine which had been reserved for this auspicious day, and we shared it between us, whilst Tepi and Tematau were each given a stiff glass of grog.

"Blow, good breeze, blow," I cried, "blow steady and strong."

"Blow, good wind, blow steady and true," echoed my two men, as I eased off the main sheet, and the boat went faster through the water, and made a seething wake.

As we were so well to windward of the island, I determined to head for Cape Ritidian, its north-west point, as from there I could easily pick up Port Taro-fofo, where, so Lucia assured me, we should find a pilot to take us down the coast to Port San Luis. Not having a chart of the island made it necessary for me to be cautious, but Lucia was quite sure that from Cape Ritidian we should have no trouble in running down the coast to Tarafofo—a port with which she was quite familiar, for she had been there on many occasions with her father. The anchorage was good, and there was a small town at the head of the harbour, where supplies could be obtained.

"That will do us nicely, then," I said; "we may as well spell there for a few days and get well rested. Oh, won't it be glorious to feel solid earth under foot once more after the last ten weary days!" "Oh Jim, the very thought of stepping on shore again makes my veins thrill. Oh, the great lovely green mountain forest, and the calls of the birds and the sweet sound of falling water—it is heaven to think of being there, in such a beautiful country after so many, many days upon the sea! Ah, you will love Guam, Jim! You cannot help it—it is the fairest, sweetest land in all the world, I think."

Her enthusiasm infected me to some degree, and bending forward to her, I whispered,—

"Is there a church at Tarafofo, Lucia?"

A vivid blush dyed her sweet face from neck to brow.

"Yes," she answered, so softly that I could scarce hear her, "there has always been a church there for a hundred years. It was once plundered and burned by pirates, so one of the priests told me when I was a child."

The breeze held good with us, and at four in the afternoon we ran in under Cape Ritidian and brought to half a cable away from the shore, which presented an aspect of the loveliest verdured hills and valleys imaginable, fringed with a curving snow-white beach, along which were scattered a few native houses, surrounded by plantations of bananas and papaw trees.

Presently a boat came off manned by natives dressed in very bright colours. They all spoke Spanish and at once offered to pilot us down to Tarafofo Harbour, which, they said, we could enter at any time, day or night; we accepted their services, and they came aboard, veered their boat astern, and by nightfall we came to an anchor in a small, but safe and exceedingly beautiful harbour.

Here more of the country people came on board, late as it was, and pressed us to sleep on shore, telling us that there were some very comfortable houses in the village, which was situated two miles up the Tarafofo river. Then one of the visitors recognised Lucia, and now invitations poured in upon us from all sides, and finally Lucia and Niabon, accompanied by Tematau, went ashore with them, leaving Tepi and myself on board.

"Good-night, Jim dear," said Lucia, as she was about to get into the shore boat, "you will come on shore early, won't you? I don't like your staying behind, but you and Tepi will perhaps get a good night's rest now that three of us will be out of the way. I should never go to sleep if I stayed on board to-night. I am so excited."

I stooped and kissed her little upturned face, and in another moment she was in the boat, which at once pushed off into the darkness and made for shore.

"Good-night, again," both she and Niabon cried, and Tematau also called out Tiakapo!

"Good-night, good-night," I shouted, swaying our boat lantern in farewell. "Tiakapo, Tematau. May you all sleep well."

They made some merry laughing response, in which they were joined by their hosts, and then Tepi and I were alone.

We put on the cabin hatches, spread out our sleeping mats and made ourselves comfortable for the night, and after half an hour's smoke, we fell asleep too tired to talk.

*****

A little after midnight the cool breeze suddenly died away, and both Tepi and myself awoke almost at the same moment.

"The air hath grown hot, and is hard to breathe, master," said the big man "I fear a storm is near."

It had indeed become very hot and stifling, but on looking at the barometer, I saw there was no change, and so felt no concern, for we were in an excellent position, no matter how hard, and from where it might blow. In half an hour or so, a few heavy splashes of rain fell, then a sudden shower, which necessitated us lifting off the hatch and going into the cabin, and it was then that Tepi complained to me of a severe headache, from which I was also beginning to suffer.

I had just struck a match to take another look at the glass, when suddenly the boat began to tremble violently, and then gave such a sudden jerk at her cable that I fell forward on my face.

"Mafuie! Mafuie!" ("Earthquake! earthquake!") cried Tepi in terror-stricken tones, as he clutched the coamings and looked seaward. "Oh, Simi, look, look! The sea, the sea! We perish!"

May God spare me from ever seeing such another sight! A black towering wall of water was rushing towards the boat, and ere I could frame my lips to utter an appeal for mercy to the Almighty it was upon us, and lifting us up on the summit of its awful crest, hurled us shoreward to destruction. Then I remembered no more.



*****

Two weeks later I awoke to life and misery in a wide, low-ceiled room. Tepi, with his arm in a sling, was bending over me, and sitting beside my bed were two padres.

"Where am I, good fathers?" I asked.

"In San Ignacio, my son," replied the elder of the two. "God has spared you and this Indian sailor of yours to render thanks to Him and the Holy Virgin for His mercy."

"And where are my friends—the two girls and Tematau? Tell me, Tepi! Tell me," I said, with a dull terror at my heart. "Why do you shake and hide your face?" Then I turned to the priests.

"For God's sake, tell me, gentlemen," and I clutched the hand of the one nearest to me.

"In Paradise, my son. They and three hundred other poor souls rendered up their lives to God thirteen days ago. Scarcely a score of people in Tarafofo escaped."

The shock was too much for me, and I fell back again.

*****

As soon as I was strong enough for the journey I visited the scene, and was shown, on the spot where once the church had stood, a bare, grim mound. Underneath it lay all that was mortal of Lucia, Niabon, Tematau, and three hundred others, who had in one swift moment been sent to eternity that dreadful night. Some of the few survivors, who, under the direction of a priest, and the Governor of San Ignacio, were erecting a tall wooden cross at the foot of the great grave, led me to the site of the house in which my dear companions had met their deaths. Nine other people were in the house when it fell and buried the sleepers, and the agony must have been short for them all.

The tidal wave which accompanied the earthquake had hurled the boat and Tepi and myself for many hundreds of yards inland. I was picked up in the boat herself, stunned and severely injured. Tepi was carried into a rice field, and although his arm was broken, he at once set out in search of me, and the faithful fellow had come with me when I was carried in a bullock cart to San Ignacio, where the doctor and priests had brought me round after two weeks' dangerous illness.

Before leaving Guam I spent two months with my friend Jose Otano, who tried hard to make me stay with him. At his house poor Lucia's heart-broken sister came to see me very often, and I bade her farewell with genuine sorrow.

Then one day Tepi and I turned our faces once more to the islands of the south—and so the story of my strange adventure is told.

THE END