In Strange Company: A Story of Chili and the Southern Seas

CHAPTER II.

To a sailor, perhaps the most trying parts of his courtship are the lengthy periods he is compelled to spend away from the presence of his beloved one; and yet, curiously enough, when in later life he comes to look back upon the whole business, he is pretty certain to discover that they were not the least pleasant portions of it. However that may be, it is a crucial test of the genuineness of his affection; and then it is that he has an opportunity of realizing what truth there is in the old saying, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." How often, when pacing his lonely watch, do you suppose his sweetheart's face rises before him? How often, when a stiff breeze is blowing, filling the canvas like great balloons, and driving the good ship, homeward bound, for all she is worth, do you think the thought of her he will soon hold in his arms, whose lips he will soon kiss, into whose eyes he will gaze with so fond a rapture, will cross his mind? Or, if his ship's head be turned away from home, hasn't he the sweet knowledge ever present with him that a certain voluminous epistle will meet him at the other end, destined amply to compensate for the bitterness of parting? Well, I protest, though separation may be one of the hardest parts of a sailor's courtship, yet, all things considered, it is worth undergoing, if only for the joy of reuniting. As the Frenchman has it—

When I bade Maud my first good-bye after our engagement, I was, though I did not know it, bound on a long cruise. We visited Calcutta, Singapore, and Hong Kong, crossed the Pacific to San Francisco, thence round the Horn to Rio; finally returning, viâ New York, home. By that time, as may be supposed, I was ravenous—no other word so fully expresses it—for a glimpse of my darling's face; I felt as if I had not seen her for a lifetime.

So soon, therefore, as we were docked, and I could be spared, away I sped, first home to the old mother, and then, as early as I could decently excuse myself, to Maud. By the time my cab pulled up at her door I was in a fever, and I remember well the cabman's expression of surprise when he realized that instead of his legal fare of eighteen-pence I had given him five shillings. Summers, the same ancient butler who opened the door to me on the day I first saw my sweetheart, invited me to enter now, and the grip I gave his honest hand he professes to feel even at this distant date. A minute later I was entering the drawing-room, prepared to clasp my dear girl in my arms.

At this point occurred a trifling circumstance—so trifling regarded in the white light of these later days that I almost hesitate to narrate it—that was, nevertheless, destined to alter the whole current of my after life, and indirectly to bring me into touch with all the curious things I have set myself to tell.

As I have just said, I entered the drawing-room, prepared to bestow upon Maud the hungry embrace of a long-parted lover. My intentions, however, were dashed to the ground by the presence of a third party—a man. As he stood watching us there was nothing for it but to behave like commonplace mortals, but I promise you I was not grateful to him for his presence. To say that Maud looked prettier than when I had left her last would perhaps be hardly the truth (though to my eyes she was incomparably sweet), for her face had a worn and harrassed expression which had not been there when I bade her good-bye. Her welcome was as warm as I could expect under the circumstances, but nevertheless I was bitterly disappointed by it.

Her companion's name was Welbourne, Captain Horatio Welbourne, of one of the Household Regiments, I believe. We exchanged glances, and from that moment I became furiously jealous of him. I must, however, do him the justice to admit that he was a fine figure of a man, tall and soldierly, as befitted his calling. Our introduction effected, Maud proceeded to dispense the tea she was pouring out when I entered.

Inwardly chafing to have my sweetheart to myself, it was with the utmost difficulty I could engage myself in the insipid conversation, through the mazes of which the gallant captain led us. When he rose to depart another relay of fashionables arrived, and after standing it for nearly an hour I made my excuses, and raging against the whole world fled the house.

The next afternoon I called again. This time I was fortunate enough to find Maud alone. I think she was vexed with me for deserting her the previous day; at any rate, her manner was distinctly cold. As it happened, we had hardly been a quarter of an hour together before the self-same Captain Welbourne must needs put in an appearance, bringing with him the peculiar air of being the tame cat of the house I had noticed on the previous occasion. I fancy Maud must have had some idea of what was in my mind, for she became painfully embarrassed, and noticing this, my suspicions grew and grew. How unjust I was to her, I can now see, but at the time I could not help remembering that she was an heiress, and that the gallant captain was really a most attractive person. Yet I determined I would not allow myself to become jealous without good cause.

That was, however, soon forthcoming, and, I blush to relate it now, through the gossip of a female tittle-tattler. Unhappily I was in such a state that I had no option but to believe it true. And, being ever impetuous and hot-headed, nothing would suit me then but I must call upon Maud while under the influence of my anger. Naturally enough she resented the terms in which I couched my remarks, and I left the house in high dudgeon, more than ever convinced that she was false to me. A week went by without a word on either side, and at the end of it I put back to sea nearly broken-hearted. As if to accentuate the sting, that was my first voyage as chief officer.

From this point I date my downfall. Perhaps I was tired of the sea, or perhaps I was still piqued by what I could not help considering Maud's ill-treatment of me; at any rate, I got it into my poor addled brain that when we reached South Australia I would cry quits with the nautical profession, and if possible settle down out there to a life ashore. This scheme I put into practice, with the result that, after much jobbery, I obtained a situation in a ship-chandler's office in Port Adelaide, retaining it until my employer's fraudulent insolvency threw me on the world again. Then, a new gold-field breaking out inland, off I tramped to it, imbued with the intention of making my fortune, and returning to the mother-country a millionaire. This venture, however, was no more successful than the last, and after nearly three months' hard work, all I had to show for it were six dwts. of gold, and a bad attack of typhoid fever that nearly made an end of me. For nearly ten weeks I was confined to my bed in the tent-hospital, to leave it more like a skeleton than a human being.

What to do now I had no idea. I was bankrupt; my claim had been seized; I was too weak to tramp the bush in search of work; and indeed had I found any I doubt if I could have undertaken it. Added to all this, or perhaps I should say as the result of all this, I grew exceedingly despondent. Indeed the horrors of that period I am loth to dwell upon, save that it gave me an opportunity of experiencing one of those little touches of kindness which go to prove that after all humanity in the abstract is not quite so bad as it is usually made out to be.

From the gold-field where I had contracted my illness, I had wandered, partly by Government assistance and partly by my own exertions, as far as the famous silver-mining town of Broken Hill, just over the New South Wales border. Here, in the midst of barbaric waste and splendour, a relapse seized me, and for nigh upon three weeks I hovered, in the Town Hospital, on the border-land of Life and Death.

When I said farewell to that kindly institution, I was at my wits' end as to my future. I had no money, and I was without the means of earning any. Fortunately it was summer time, and sleeping in the open air was not only quite possible but very pleasant, so I had no concern about lodgings; that, however, was only a minor matter, for I was starving. Oh, how bitterly I regretted having forsaken my old profession! No one will ever know the agony I endured. I could have fought the world for the very crumbs that were used to fall from the cuddy table. Day after day I toiled up one street and down another, from mine to mine, and smelter to smelter, seeking for the work which never offered.

One sunset, weary and horribly sick at heart, I was crawling back to my usual camping place on the outskirts of the town, when a sudden faintness seized me. The whole world turned black before my eyes, I reeled, and fell unconscious by the road-side.

I remember nothing of what occurred, till I awoke to find myself lying upon a stretcher in a small tent. A man was leaning over me, and when my eyes opened he seemed to regard it as a matter for considerable satisfaction. I tried to collect my thoughts sufficiently to ask where I was, but seeing my lips attempting to form the sentence, he stopped me by saying—

"Naa, naa, laddie, tha' must just bide still a bit longer. Dunna tha' try to talk, or tha'll be maakin' thaself ill agin. There's na call for hurry, a tell tha'."

That my kind friend, for such he had surely proved himself, was a miner, I had no doubt—his dress, his kit, and even his accent proved that; but otherwise I could hazard no guess as to where I was. Being too weak to bestow much consideration upon the matter, I closed my eyes and immediately fell asleep again. When I woke it was broad daylight, and my friend had just returned from shift. He hastened to put food before me, talking incessantly the while. From him I learnt that he and his mate had discovered me lying insensible beside the road, not fifty yards from his tent; that between them they had carried me in and put me to bed, and that I had been unconscious for something like six hours. Naturally, I expressed my gratitude, but he would have none of it, bidding me get well before I talked of saying "Thank you."

My lucky star was evidently in the ascendant. Under his care—for while the kindest and gentlest, he was also the most exacting of nurses—I soon made visible improvement, and in a week was so far recovered as to be able to get up and potter about the tent. It was time for me to be thinking of moving on again.

"Well, laddie," my benefactor said to me one day, "tha's lookin' braavly noo."

"Thanks to you," I hastened to reply, "for without your care, John Trelsar, I don't know where I should have been to-day; not here, at any rate."

"Softly lad, softly, I did na more fa' thee than tha'd do fa' me, I reckon, so we'll cra' quits to it."

"That's all very well; but I owe my life to you, you'll never make me see anything but that. And now, I wonder what's the best thing for me to do. I can't stay idle here; there's no work to be got in the town, so unless I ship to sea again, I don't know what's to become of me."

Trelsar was all alive in a second.

"I've got it," he said, slapping his huge hand on his knee; "there's Seth Polwill below there in Adelaide, look see—working in the Fire Brigade—tha' must go to he, and say Jack Trelsar sent tha', and, mark my words, he'll put thee on the wa' for some'ut."

This Seth Polwill was a great hero of my benefactor's, upon whose appearance, sayings, and actions, he was never tired of discoursing. They were Townies, that is, they hailed from the same place in the Old Country; and as it appeared later, it was to Seth's advice that Trelsar owed his emigration, and the good position he now occupied.

"That's all very well," I remarked, "but how am I to get to Adelaide? I haven't a red cent to my name, and I don't think I can screw the Government for another pass; they were nasty enough about the last."

"Now, don't thee trouble thaself about that," said John. "If thee wants a pound or two, to see thee on tha way, why not come to tha friend, Jan Trelsar; never fear, lad, but what a'll trust thee."

Upon my deciding to accept a loan, a piece of paper, a pen, and a bottle of ink were obtained, and a letter of introduction to the all-important Polwill produced.

Armed with this, the very next morning off I accordingly set for the South, arriving in due course in Adelaide. So soon as was possible, I made my way to the Fire Brigade Station, and inquired for Seth Polwill. The firemen were at dinner, but one whom I should have known anywhere for the man I sought, came to the door and inquired my business. He was a good-looking, well set-up fellow, and when he spoke, I noticed he had none of the Cousin Jack dialect so conspicuous in my benefactor's conversation. Having handed him my letter, he sat down on the wheel of the big engine to examine it. He read it through two or three times before venturing a word; then rising, he shook me gravely by the hand, and inquired after Trelsar's health.

After which, he remarked—

"You don't look well."

I replied that I had but recently recovered from a very serious illness, and this led me on to narrate how I came to meet his friend. He listened attentively, and when I had finished, said—

"You say you've been a sailor?"

I replied in the affirmative, though I refrained from telling him in what capacity, for I had a certain delicacy in letting people know that I had shown myself sufficiently a fool to give up a chief officer's billet afloat for starvation ashore.

"Well, look you here, Mr. Ramsay," he said, "I should very much like to help you to something, if only to oblige my friend. The best then that I can do is to tell you that there is a vacancy here. We want another hand, and, as perhaps you know, we prefer sailors. If you can qualify, I don't doubt for a moment but that the superintendent will put you on. Take my advice, go into his office at once, and ask him yourself. You can't do any harm by asking, even if you don't get what you ask for."

Thanking him for his assistance, I went straight to the superintendent's room. Once there, I stated my business, making the best possible case I could of it. The superintendent eyed me narrowly.

"You say you've been to sea," he said. "For how long?"

"Twelve years," I replied.

"In what ships?"

I gave him the names of the vessels and their owners.

"In what capacity did you serve aboard them?"

"From apprentice to chief officer," I said, feeling it would be the safest plan to tell him everything.

He stared when he heard my answer, and looked me carefully up and down.

"I don't know that that's exactly a recommendation, my man," he said. "Chief officers who exchange the sea for a fireman's billet don't exactly answer the description of the man I want. I suppose you're aware we're considered a crack brigade? If I take you on, you'll have to prove you're no skrimshanker. Our motto here is 'Smartness and sobriety,' do you understand?"

I remarked that I did. Then, giving me a note to the doctor, who would examine me, he bade me come back to him next day.

To make a long story short, the doctor's examination proving satisfactory, I was enrolled a member of the Adelaide Fire Brigade, with permission to do as much work as the day had room for, give as much satisfaction as possible, and risk my life in the interest of the city and the reputation of the Brigade as often as opportunity occurred. All things considered, it was by no means an unpleasant life, and until the novelty wore off, I believe I enjoyed it. One strange coincidence, however, happened to me during my connection with it, which I take to be so extraordinary that I must ask your indulgence while I narrate it.

One miserable, gusty night, early in winter, the alarm sounded for a fire. Our promptness was proverbial, and almost before the bell had ceased to sound we were racing for the scene. It turned out to be the New Federation Hotel, in King William Street, and when we arrived the whole building was one enormous blaze. The fire had originated, so it was said, in a small store cupboard behind the bar, and had spread all over the ground-floor, thus practically cutting off the escape of those lodged in the rooms above. According to the manager's statement, nearly every bedroom was occupied that night, and so far only four people had effected exits. Within two minutes of our arrival we had the escapes up against the building, and were passing the terrified occupants down as fast as we could lay hold of them. It was dangerous work, but we were not paid to think of that.

Suddenly, at a side window, I saw a woman preparing to hurl herself into the street below. The crowd noticed her too, and raised a yell. Running a ladder round, I mounted to her side, and before she could carry out her purpose had taken her in my arms and borne her safely to the ground. As we reached it, a weird, dishevelled, scallywag of a man rushed towards us, with arms outstretched, crying, "Oh, my God, my God, she's safe—my wife!"

In that brief moment I recognized my old enemy, Captain Welbourne, the man who I believed had deprived me of Maud!

Next day I learnt that he was on his wedding tour, and what interested me far more, that his wife's maiden name was Hawkhurst! Two points, therefore, raised themselves for my consideration: either he had never loved Maud; or he had declared himself, and she had refused him. If this latter supposition were correct, what could have induced her action? I must leave it to my readers to imagine what agonies of self-reproach I suffered after this discovery. I saw plainly that I had wrecked my whole life by one little foolish exhibition of jealousy, and that too without the slightest cause or justification. A hundred times a day I cursed my senseless stupidity. But there, what is to be gained by opening the old wound? Rather let me draw a curtain over such a painful subject, one which even to-day I hardly like to think about.

Now, though life in the Fire Brigade might and undoubtedly did possess attractions, they were such as were liable to become exceedingly monotonous after a time. So it chanced that when I had been employed therein nearly eight months, a friend heard of a situation as store-keeper, on a Darling River sheep station, which he was kind enough to think might suit me. At his suggestion I applied for the position, and had the good fortune to secure it.

Sending in my resignation to the Board, I left Adelaide, and proceeded into the Bush. But the billet did not come up to expectations, and when I had given it a good trial, I discarded it in favour of another as cook to an Overlanding Party. In this capacity I wandered far afield, with the result that at the end of eighteen months I found myself in Brisbane, tired of the Bush, and pining for a breath of sea air again.

While inactive in Brisbane, an English letter was forwarded to me from the Melbourne Post-office. The writer was a cousin, and her mission was to announce the death of my poor old mother, after a brief illness. The blow, as may be supposed, affected me keenly, the more so because I could not but feel that, all things considered, I had not been the son to her that she deserved. Poor old lady, I never knew how much she was to me until I had lost her. Her death, and the thought that I should never see her loving face, or hear her gentle voice again, seemed to sever the one remaining link that united me to my old life. Could I, I asked myself, be the same person as the little boy she took to school at Plymouth? Could I be the same John Ramsay who followed her into Sir Benjamin Plowden's office, so many years ago? Yes—the same, but oh! how differently situated! With Virgil, I could well cry, "O mihi praeteritos referat si Jupiter annos!" Alas! those dear dead years, how bright they are to look back upon, yet how shamefully I misused them!

But in spite of the bitterness of the blow, I could not go on brooding over my loss for ever. My mother was gone, nothing could bring her back to me. It behoved me now to look after myself, for my necessities were on the point of obtruding themselves upon my notice once more.

When I found that the money I had managed to save from my various employments was running short, I began to wonder how I should obtain another situation. The prospect looked gloomy enough in all conscience, when Fate, which was steadily bearing me on towards a certain goal, took me in hand again, and by permitting me to overhear a certain conversation, led me into a track that was fraught with much danger to my future peace. The speakers were the owner of a Thursday Island Pearling schooner, and a well-known boat-builder. Their talk had reference to a new lugger the skipper had lately purchased, and the difficulty of finding hands to work her North. Here was the very chance for me.

As soon as they separated, I accosted the Pearler, and offered my services. When he heard my qualifications, he engaged me at once; and so it came about that next day I was a seaman aboard the Crested Wave, bound for Thursday Island and the Pearl fisheries.

I need not delay you while I enter upon any description of the voyage northwards, more than to say that we arrived safely at our destination, and having taken a diver aboard, at once set sail again, this time for the Solomons, where we remained cruising about, with fair success, for nigh upon three months.

Though I had, on several occasions, crossed the Pacific in deep-water ships, this was the first time I had pottered about among the Islands themselves, and the new life came to me as a revelation. Even as I sit here writing, the memory of those glorious latitudes rises and sends a thrill through me. There is a saying, that the man who has once known the Himalayas never forgets their smell; I say that the man who has once heard the thunder of the surf upon the reefs, who has smelt the sweet incense of the tropic woods, and felt the invigorating breath of the trade winds upon his cheek, can never rid his memory of the fascination of those Southern seas!

By the time we returned to Thursday Island a fair sum in wages was owing me, and I think I had won a good reputation with my skipper, for he was anxious that I should take a holiday, and then set sail with him again. I resolved to think about it, and in the meantime to stretch my legs for a week or two ashore, seeing what was to be seen, and as far as possible enjoying the peculiar delights of Thursday Island.

"Come with me," said a shipmate one evening. "You think because you've seen the Japanese you know the Island. Why, man, you're only on the outskirts; you don't even know Juanita!"

"And who's Juanita?" I asked, without interest, for I was wearied to death of the Lizzies, Pollies, Nancies, and their sisterhood.

By way of reply he ran his arm through mine, and headed along the beach, presently to cry a halt alongside the palms which mark the entrance to the "Orient" Hotel. Knowing this house to be the resort of mail-boat skippers, schooner-owners, and high-toned gentry of that class, and to have a fleecing reputation, I had hitherto religiously avoided it. A flood of bright light streamed from the doorway, and sounds of laughter invited us to enter.

A couple of Pearlers and a woman were the only occupants of the room. The men were of no account, but the woman's face riveted my attention at once. She was not exactly the most beautiful woman—I mean as far as refinement went—that I had ever seen, but she was certainly the handsomest. As we entered, her companions bade her "good-night," and went out. Then my friend introduced me in proper form.

"Mr. Ramsay—Madame Juanita."

She held out her hand and bade me welcome, and from that moment I was a lost man. What sort of fascination it was that she exercised over me I cannot say; I only know that when I left the "Orient" and stumbled out into the starlit night again I had forgotten Maud, forgotten my own impoverished condition, forgotten my self-respect, and was madly, desperately, absurdly in love with this beautiful and mysterious creature.

CHAPTER III.

Somewhere or other I remember to have seen a picture of the two sorts of love which may enter man's life. I think it was called "Sacred and Profane Love," and it may possibly have been by one of the Old Masters. But wherever or whatever it was, it seemed to me that I had now had experience of both passions. Maud was the first, Juanita was the second. I had loved Maud for herself alone; Juanita fascinated me purely by her personal charms, and by a certain Bohemianism which, while it occasionally almost frightened me, held me in chains, that were to all intents and purposes stronger than links of iron. For it must not be imagined that my first visit to the "Orient" was my last. In fact, now that I had once fallen her victim, I was hardly to be found elsewhere. As the first proof of the power she exercised over me, I declined my old skipper's offer to ship for another cruise, preferring idleness and poverty ashore, with the opportunities it presented of seeing the woman I so slavishly adored, to a life of money-making and hardship at sea.

So day in day out found me by Juanita's side, either loafing in the hotel itself, or when she could leave her duties, boating in the bay, wandering about the island, or climbing Fortification Hill to admire the beautiful panorama visible from its summit. Looking back on that period, I am smitten with a feeling of intense shame. But at the time I lived only to be constantly by her side. Maud was as much forgotten as though she had never existed.

It must not be supposed, however, that with one so fair as Juanita I should have the field entirely to myself. Women of her stamp were too uncommon in Thursday Island to lack admirers. But among all my rivals there was only one of whom I entertained any fear—a Pole, and men said a titled refugee—by name Panuroff. He was a big, handsome man, with a peculiarly reckless air, certain to possess a great fascination for susceptible members of the opposite sex. Not that I mean in any way to infer that Juanita encouraged his advances, for I think, though she preferred him to the majority of those who paid court to her, they were not always on the best of terms. How she came to take to me so quickly I have never been able to understand, but somehow she was never tired of listening to my adventures, and particularly those relating to my sea career. On the point of my capabilities to take charge of and navigate a vessel she cross-questioned me continually, until I felt compelled to ask if she thought of setting up as a ship-owner herself, and wanted me to enter her employ. She laughed the matter off, saying that if she had money to invest it would certainly be in a schooner; but as she hadn't, well, she'd have to wait until she got it before talking about officers and such like. In fact, this idea of possessing a boat seemed, as far as I could judge, to be her only thought and aim in life. But her real idea, and how I figured in working it out, you shall, if you have not already guessed it, learn directly.

One night when we had thoroughly come to understand each other, I hurried down as soon as my evening meal was over to the "Orient." As most of the Pearling luggers were at sea, it was a slack time for hotel-keepers, and when I entered the bar Juanita was alone, hard at work upon her interminable calculations. For nearly an hour we remained in conversation. Then our tête-à-tête was interrupted by the entrance of a third party, who, as ill-luck had it, was none other than Count Panuroff before-mentioned. I could see that Juanita was not best pleased at his appearance, and during the time he remained in the room her behaviour towards him was barely civil. He noticed this, and his glances towards myself betokened a resentment that only waited an opportunity to take active form. Nor can I with truth aver that I did not let him see that I rejoiced at his discomfiture. When Juanita left him and returned to my side he sat himself down in a corner, and watched us out of sullen, half-closed eyes. I felt sure mischief was brewing, and I was not disappointed.

Partly for the purpose of annoying him, and partly to see how long he would sit in his corner, sulking like a bear with a sore head, I prolonged my visit until some time after the usual hour for closing. When I left the house it was nearly twelve o'clock—a rough, tempestuous night, with a strong wind blowing, and a full moon dodging inky clouds across a somewhat unhappy-looking sky. Leaving the Sea-Front I struck inland towards my abode, but I had not proceeded very far before my ear caught the sound of footsteps following me. Presently a voice I hardly recognized called upon me to stop. I did so, and turning, faced my pursuer. As you will have guessed, it was Panuroff. He came up to me, and clutching me by the arm, tried to speak. But his rage was so great that for the moment it not only deprived him of speech, but shook him like the palsy. When he found his tongue he blurted out—

"I'll kill you! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

He would have gone on repeating this for an indefinite time had I not thrown off his hand, and said—

"I advise you to be a little more careful, my friend, or you'll get yourself into trouble. In this country you won't be allowed to go about killing people just as you please."

My coolness only seemed to heap additional fuel on his already surcharged fires. He almost foamed at the mouth. Grasping my arm again, he hissed—

"Coward! coward! I knew you were a coward!"

Not being able to stand this, I did my best to knock him down. It was a futile attempt, however, for he leapt on one side, and in doing so struck me a heavy blow on the side of my face.

"There," he cried, almost dancing in the moonlight. "What now?"

"Now," I said, as quietly as I could under the circumstances, "you've done it, and I'll have your life if you're twenty times mad!"

"For once you talk like a man," he remarked. "Come with me, and we'll settle it now and for ever. She shall see who is the better man."

If I had any scruples left, that reference to Juanita obliterated them; and so side by side we tramped through the bush round the elbow of the hill to an open spot among ferns and aloe bushes, about the centre of the island. It was a strange place surrounded by giant ant-hills, which in many cases reared themselves quite eight feet above the ground, like monuments in a well-populated cemetery.

Here Panuroff stopped and took his coat off. I followed his example. Then from his breast he drew a sort of stiletto, with which, I suppose, he had armed himself on purpose for the present occasion. I had of course my sheath-knife. While we were making our preparations the moon emerged from behind a bank of clouds, and as she did so the wind dropped and the faint clang of eight bells came up to us from a steamer in the harbour.

I could hardly believe that I was standing face to face with a fellow-creature, my one aim and object being to take his life. But it is a strange fact that man is never so dangerous as when his passions are not roused, that is to say, when he is able to enter upon the work of butchery with a contemplative and evenly balanced mind. Contrary to what I should have expected, I had not the least fear as to the result.

For perhaps a minute we stood regarding each other. I could hear his excited breathing as he prepared for his spring. Then like a wild cat he gathered himself together, and leapt towards me. I sprang on one side, but not before his knife had grazed my arm. The struggle had commenced in downright earnest. Like game cocks, we circled round and round each other, waiting and watching for an opportunity to strike. It was no child's play, for we were both active men in first-class training.

Suddenly my foot caught in a boulder, and for a second my attention was diverted from his eyes. It was fatal; with one great bound he rushed in upon me, and clutching me round the neck, attempted to drive his knife between my shoulder and my neck. With the strength of despair I clutched the wrist of the hand that held the knife, and backwards and forwards, round and round, here, there, and everywhere about that little plot of ground we passed, swaying to and fro, breathing hard, and wrestling for our very lives. Surely such a struggle the island, with all its strange and mysterious population, could never have witnessed before! At last my right hand reached his throat—my left still held the wrist—I closed my fingers on his windpipe.

Such is the strange construction of the human mind, that at that moment, when both our lives trembled in the balance, I remember, distinctly, thinking what a wonderful contrivance the Adam's apple of the throat must be.

Further and further his head went back; his breath came from him in thick gasps. The moon shone clear, and by her light I could see the look of despair settling in his eyes. At last, to avoid being throttled, he fell to the ground, I with him. Here the battle recommenced, for both our holds were loosened by the fall. Rolling over, he seized upon me, and raised his knife; yet again I clutched the hand that held it, and with one gigantic effort threw him off; but the exertion was too much for me, and before I could rise he was upon me, and had stabbed me twice. I remember no more.

When I recovered my senses, I was too weak and faint to care very much where I was. But somehow, in a hazy sort of fashion, I got hold of the idea that I was back in John Trelsar's tent at Broken Hill. After a while, however, curiosity got the upper hand of indifference, and I re-opened my eyes to look about me. It was a strange sort of room that I found myself in, and one that it did not take me a year to see, had lately been in the occupation of Chinamen. A couple of celestial jumpers hung on pegs behind the door, and an opium pipe stood on a shelf upon the wall. Through the small window opposite my bed I could distinctly hear the sound of surf breaking on a shore, and as if to prove that my reasoning powers were in no way impaired by my terrible experience, I made it out that I must either be on one of the neighbouring islands, or on a part of Thursday which I had never visited. For several reasons I inclined towards the latter belief.

How I knew I was not in any proximity to the township itself was the fact, plainly discernible to one having experience in such matters, that the sea was not breaking on sand, but on shingle; and what was more important still, among mangrove trees. Now I knew that the beach on the settlement side of Thursday Island was sandy, while that on the other side I had heard was pebbly; on the former there were no mangroves, on the latter they abounded. But observation of these things was beyond me for very long, so, feeling tired, I turned my face to the wall, and was presently asleep again.

Many hours must have elapsed before I woke; when I did the sun had set, and the room would have been dark but for a candle burning on a table by my side. Rather dazed by my long sleep, I looked around me, and as I did so my eyes lighted upon the most extraordinary being I think I have ever beheld in my life.

He was an albino, and what was worse, a dwarf albino. He sat upon a high box, and was staring hard at me; his hair, very long and snow-white, was just moved by the draught from the window; and his eyes, which I discovered later to be of a peculiar shade of pink, flashed and twinkled like enormous rubies. All the time he cracked his finger-joints, first one way, then another, then backwards, then forwards, with a most alarming noise.

When he saw that I was awake, he scrambled down from his perch and approached me, saying in a curiously high-pitched voice—

"Ho! ho! my friend, so you are awake again! Well, you've had a wonderful nap, twelve hours on end, or I'm a Dutchman."

I answered that I was surprised to hear it, and went on to ask where I was, and how I came there.

"Well, that's a long story," he said, still cracking his fingers, "but if you want to hear it, I'll tell you. I found you on the bend of the hill early this morning, lying like a dead man, with pints of good blood run to waste round about you. From the look of the ground I fixed it, young man, that you'd been fighting. But as that was no business of mine, I didn't take any heed of it, but just picked you up, and brought you in here, where you've been ever since."

He did not tell me that had I been any other than John Ramsay he would have let me lie there. But the reason for that, and how I came to hear of it, you shall know later on.

Of course I thanked him for his charity, but again, like John Treslar, he would not hear of it. Among his many extraordinary talents, he numbered a knowledge of surgery, and under his care I made rapid progress towards recovery. Fortunately, though the wounds Panuroff had inflicted upon me were deep, they were by no means dangerous.

At the end of the week I was almost myself again. All the time, my strange little benefactor was indefatigable in his attentions, and pretended to take a wonderful interest in myself and my welfare. Among other peculiarities, he was as inquisitive as an old woman, and before I had known him a week, he had not only drawn from me the name of my antagonist (whom I was rejoiced to hear had fled the settlement, believing he had killed me), but had made himself conversant with my passion for Juanita. On his own side he was more reticent, and do what I would, I could not draw out of him either his business on the island, or in fact anything important connected with himself or his affairs. That he had seen more of the world than even the majority of those who consider themselves great travellers, I soon gathered; that he was for some years in Chili, was another thing I discovered. But beyond these two small circumstances, I could learn nothing of his past. One obligation he imposed in return for what he had done for me, and that was, that I should never mention him to any living soul, and especially not to Juanita.

"Why especially not to Juanita?" I asked, surprised that he should bring her into the matter.

"Because women wonder, and when they wonder they pry, and when they pry they make mischief, and when they make mischief they're the devil, and there isn't room for Satan and me in this house."

He paused for a minute, his twinkling little eyes watching me all the time, and then went on—

"You see, my appearance is against me, and as I'm sensitive on the point, I don't want to make new friends. There you have it in a nutshell. If you told your sweetheart anything about me, she'd want to see me, and then the mischief would be done."

Little knowing to what I was pledging myself, I readily gave the promise he asked of me, and then bidding him good-bye, set off across the island (for his house was, as I had conjectured, on the side farthest from the township) to Juanita.

I found her as usual in the bar, and her surprise at seeing me was either complimentary or not as I chose to take it. She informed me that she had made up her mind I had decamped from the island. And when I told her what had occasioned my absence, she said she had always thought something of the sort would happen, for Panuroff had dropped hints which frightened her. Why she had not warned me I could not make out, and indeed her whole attitude towards myself was extremely puzzling. Of course she knew I loved her, not only because she could see it in my face, but because I had reiterated the statement a thousand times or more; but though she professed to return my affection, at times I could not help a feeling that it was not quite as genuine as she pretended.

Just as before, her one thought was to procure a boat, in which to sail among the islands. Hardly a day went by without some reference to it, until I began to hate even the sound of the word "schooner." At last one night she asked me point blank if I could see any way to help her; letting me understand very plainly that her future treatment of myself would depend in a great measure upon my answer.

Though I knew such a thing was next door to impossible, I did not say so, but intimated that she should first tell me why she wanted to go. Then the whole mystery came out. Drawing me into a corner, with the prettiest little air of confidence, she told me the following remarkable story:—

"My Jack," she said, taking my hands in hers, and speaking with the foreign accent that lent such a charm to her simplest words, "have pity on your poor Juanita. I am in your hands entirely, for I have no one to advise me, save you. Now you shall know all my sad history. As I have so often told you, I am from Santiago, and it was from a convent there that I ran away to marry the young Englishman, who, you may have heard, so cruelly ill-treated me. Together we wandered here, there, and everywhere; always in debt, always in difficulty; to-day we had plenty; to-morrow we had nothing. My husband had squandered two fortunes already, and when we were at our last pinch, a third came to him. As you know is often the way, Jack, he suddenly grew as mean and stingy as before he had been spendthrift and reckless.

"Instead of living as became our new fortune, we literally starved. That he had drawn all his money from the bank I discovered; but what he did with it, or where he kept it, I could never find out. Then he fell ill, and the doctors said he must have a long sea voyage, and absolute rest, or his brain would become unhinged. If the truth were only known, I think it was so then.

"We were in San Francisco at the time, and I tried hard to persuade him to sail for England. He would not go, making the excuse that it would cost more money than he could afford. But as he had to have rest, he took passages for himself and for me (though he grudged my accompanying him) on board a tiny schooner trading among the islands.

"We set sail, but instead of the voyage doing him good, he grew weaker and weaker every hour. Oh, the horror of those days, I shall never forget it! At last he died, making the captain promise to bury him on an island we were close to at the time.

"The funeral over, we came on here. Having no money to take me further, I was compelled to remain in the island, but immediately on my arrival, I wrote to his lawyers, to see what they could tell me of my affairs. They replied that my husband had drawn his money from the bank in gold, and had hinted to them that he was going to bury it. But something further, mark you! That, to the best of their knowledge, he always carried the directions for finding it in a locket round his neck. As soon as I read that, I remembered that he did wear a locket, which he had once been furiously angry with me for attempting to open.

"So you see, Jack, nothing remains for me but to return to that island, dig up my husband's body, and recover the precious locket. Now I have told you my secret; I am in your hands entirely. I love you, and I trust you implicitly. If any one else finds the locket before me, I am ruined. Think what I have suffered in this place. Then tell me will you help me—yes or no?"

Tears were in her eyes, and she looked so beseechingly at me that I was compelled to take her in my arms and comfort her with promises of help. That her story was true, I never for one moment doubted.

When I left the "Orient," it was with the firm intention of finding money enough somewhere to hire a schooner, that I might assist her in her search. I felt, to do a service of this kind would be to win her gratitude for ever, and turning this over in my mind, I set out for the Albino's residence, resolved to place the matter before him.

CHAPTER IV.

"She never before told you she was a widow I believe?"

"Well, all things considered, it was hardly likely she would. What's more, I never asked her."

"How do you know she's not leading you on? How d'you know she doesn't want to get you out to sea, and then collar the whole caboose? It's a pity you're so simple with women, isn't it?"

Thinking this question hardly required an answer, I lit my pipe for something to do, and waited for him to continue. All this time he had never taken his eyes off me, but looked me through and through as if endeavouring to read my very soul. He was evidently revolving some problem in his mind, and it must have been a puzzler, if the expression on his face could be taken as evidence. When he spoke, it was with a purpose.

"Look here, John Ramsay, I like the cut of your jib, or you wouldn't be sitting there opposite me. I'm generally considered an 'old Bob Ridley' to cross, but any man'll tell you I make an up and down good friend. As I say, I've taken a fancy to you, and what's more, I've scraped together a bit of money here and there. Tell me one thing,—are you sure this, what's her outlandish name again—Juanita—is really fond of you?"

"How can I tell? She says she is."

"And you're fool enough to think you can't be happy without her?"

"If it is foolish to think so, I am. What are you driving at?"

He scratched his head musingly. Presently he asked—

"How much d'you think it would cost to hire a schooner for the trip down to this island she talks about?"

"I don't know, because she hasn't told me where the island is."

"Well, now, that's what I call a pity, but at any rate"—here he leant towards me and dropped his voice almost to a whisper—"if you think your chance with her hangs on your finding money enough for that cruise dash my wig if I won't lend it to you."

If he had offered to produce the moon from his waistcoat pocket, and give me a bite of it, I could not have been more surprised. He was the last man in the world I should have expected to receive assistance from. So, for a second or two, I hardly knew what to say, then I managed to stammer out—

"That's awfully generous of you seeing you know nothing about me; but do you mean it? Honest Injun?"

"Real downright honest Injun!"

In his excitement he had struggled down from his bed, and now stood before me as weird a picture in the half light as any man could wish to see.

"Well, there you are," he said; "there's my offer—take it or leave it, just as you please. Up to three hundred pounds the money's yours; come for it when you will."

"But I may never be able to repay you. Remember, bar what I've told you, you don't know anything of me."

"Never mind that; I like the cut of your jib, that's enough for me. If you can't repay me inside of a year you may before I die. At any rate, there it is, and good luck go with you. Only, remember your promise—not a word to Juanita of me; you'll find it safest in the long run to let her suppose you're doing it all yourself."

Had I only known then the reasons which actuated this surprising offer, I doubt if I should have been so quick to accept it; but not being able to see into the future, of course it was impossible for me to avert the trouble that was threatening my devoted head.

As soon as I could decently escape him, I made my excuses, and set off for the township to tell the good news to Juanita.

So high were my hopes, and such was my exultation at having brought the matter to such a highly successful issue, that I can recall nothing of my walk until I found myself entering the verandah of the Orient Hotel. For a moment I lingered on the threshold, listening to the music of Juanita's voice within. When I entered, it was to find her leaning across the counter, in earnest conversation with a tall Pearler, whom I had seen hovering about her before. Now, it was a curious thing, that though I had hurried with all the speed I could command to tell her the news, and had been picturing to myself the rapturous way in which she would receive it, on seeing her thus engaged I almost regretted having such good tidings to impart.

Whether she was out of patience with me for something I had done, or whether she purposely wished to make me jealous, I do not know; at any rate, save for a little nod, she took no notice of my entrance, but returned to her conversation with the stranger, leaving me to cool my heels and scowl till she should deign to speak to me. After a while the Pearler seemed to recollect business elsewhere; he drank up his liquor, and went out, leaving us together. She put his glass under the counter to be washed, and then came along the bar to where I stood.

"Well," she said.

"Well," I replied, now thoroughly angered.

"If you've nothing more to say than that," she continued spitefully, "you'd better go home and sleep. You've been drinking!"

"It's a lie," I said roughly, "and you know it, but if you think you're going to stir me into quarrelling with you, you're very much mistaken. I wouldn't quarrel with you to-night for a thousand pounds. But I'll tell you what I will do; I'll break the head of that jackanapes you were talking to just now, if he comes fooling round here again while I'm on hand."

"You're very rude," she said, tossing her head, "and you're also very cruel. I must refuse to talk to you any more. Leave me, and come back when you're sober."

"Very well," I said, "I will leave you, and what's more to the point, I'll make you a bet you'll be sorry for this. I came to tell you some news about your schooner that would have pleased you, but I'll see you dead before you shall hear it now."

So saying, I swung on my heel and left the house.

It would have been a bad business for any man who might have crossed me that night, for I was in about as vile a temper as it would be possible to be. So, unable to trust myself among men, I made for the hill-side, and started walking about the back of the island.

I must have wandered all night, for breakfast-time discovered me not more than a hundred yards from the Albino's door. With a yearning for some one to impart my sorrows to, I made towards it, and entered in time to catch my friend at his meal. His keen eyes saw in an instant that something was wrong.

"You've been quarrelling with Juanita," he began. "Don't deny it; I can see it in your face. Well, you're a bigger fool than I figured you. What was it about?"

When I told him, he gave me a glance full of such withering contempt that I almost quailed before it.

"I thought it was a man I was helping; as I live, it's only a school-girl! Did she forget to say he was a pretty boy, and to kiss him, and to chuck him under the chin then?"

His raillery was more than I could stand, so being unwilling to quarrel with him too, I got up to go. But this by no means suited him.

"Sit down," he snapped, pointing with a long fore-finger to the kerosene case which did duty for a chair; "sit down and tell me what you propose to do now; or, what's more to the point, I'll tell you what you shall do."

"What?"

"Why, you shall just eat your breakfast here, my boy, and then go back to the 'Orient' and eat humble pie."

"Never!" I cried. "I'll see you damned first!"

"Silence, fool!" he almost shrieked. "You shall eat just as much dirt as she chooses to give you. Do you think I'm going to let you spoil this contract for a ha'porth of humility? That's not my way. And when you've talked her round——"

"Supposing she won't be talked round?"

"Suppose your grandmother! She's a woman, and if you go the right way to work, you ought to be able to do what you like with her. Then you'll let her understand that you have money to invest, and after that you'll find all go smooth as buttermilk."

"I don't like making myself cheap."

"Child, you've got to; you've fairly got to grovel, or quarrel with me. Now just pack your traps, and clear out of this; I want to wash up."

In obedience to his command I returned to the township, and once more entered the "Orient." Juanita was not in. She had gone for a walk along the beach. Inquiring the direction, I followed it, and soon discovered her seated on the side of Fortification Hill, gazing across the blue strip of sea to where the mainland of Australia pushes its head up above the horizon. Numbers of white-sailed pearling craft dotted the bay; a missionary schooner was going about on her second board towards her moorings; and so still was the air, that the sound of hammering came quite distinctly from a lugger at anchor under the shadow of the Prince of Wales' Island, nearly a mile away. As I approached her, Juanita looked up and saw me.

The scene which the Albino had arranged for me was not destined to be put into practice, for she took the matter into her own hands, and when I had seated myself beside her, fell to crying, and bitterly reproaching herself for what she termed her "wickedness" on the preceding night. I endeavoured to soothe her, but it was only when she had convinced herself of my forgiveness that she deigned to be comforted.

"Oh, my Jack," she said, brushing away her tears, "you don't know how angry I've been with myself for treating you so! Let me hear again that you forgive me."

For the sixth time I reiterated the fact, and only then would she let me say anything further. The breach was completely healed. When I told her the good news her rapture knew no bounds; she lavished kisses upon me, calling me by all sorts of pet names, both Spanish and English, and continually urged me to make haste, as if it could be possible for us to set sail that very evening.

"Oh, how good you are to me!" she repeated. "And what boat do you think you can get? There's Phelp's Ocean Queen, but she's too large; there's the Alberta, but she's not large enough. Oh, what boat can we find?"

"I was thinking of the Mother of Pearl," I answered. "She's quite big enough; and I know Jameson would let us buy her outright for a small sum cash. He's in low water, and wants a smaller boat."

"Yes; she would do beautifully," she continued, clapping her hands. "You must go and see about her this very hour, and then we may get away to-morrow, perhaps."

As she said this she looked up into my face with such an air of entreaty that I convinced myself that I was more in love with her than ever.

"Well, hardly to-morrow, I fancy," I replied. "You see there's so much to be seen to; a crew to be hunted up, stores, and a thousand and one things to be attended to, that all take time. What's more, I expect she'll want overhauling; she's been lying out there these six months past, just going to rack and ruin."

"Then when, my Jack, may we sail?"

"Perhaps the day after to-morrow—hardly before."

This at first caused her to look disappointed, for she seemed impatient of even an hour's delay; but she soon regained her spirits, and we set off back to the township on the best of terms.

Leaving her at her door, I passed on along the Sea-Front, to a spot where I knew I should find the owner of the Mother of Pearl. Just as I expected, he was seated on a bench, sunning himself between drinks; and as it was about time to hunt up another, I invited him to step inside the shanty and lubricate at my expense. This he willingly consented to do; and when the operation had been safely accomplished, and not till then, I began to lead up to the subject of the schooner.

As my reputation in the island was not exactly that of a monied man, he was thrown completely off his guard, and forthwith entered upon a string of abuse regarding the unfortunate vessel. She was too big for diving purposes; she cost twice as much to keep up as he could afford; she took a young man-o'-war's crew to work her; and altogether he wished he'd never set eyes on her. I waited my opportunity, and then said—

"Don't you wish you could sell her?"

"Sell her! You'd just better believe I do!" he replied with considerable energy. "I'm dead sick of her,—there never was a rottener bargain going."

He looked across the smooth stretch of the bay to where the object of his animadversions lay swinging to the tide. Then smothering a curse, he turned to me—

"Look here, Jack," he said, never of course dreaming I meant serious business, "I'm not what you'd call a big bug for style; but I'll tell you what I will do. I'll make you a present of that craft for two fifty, cash on the nail, and lose a hundred pounds by it. Now then, there you are; I couldn't say fairer than that if you was my missus's first husband's uncle, could I?"

He had made me the offer so often "just for style," that such a thing as my accepting it never for an instant crossed his mind. Therefore when I said quietly—

"Make it two hundred, Jim, and I'm your man, cash on the capstan when you please," there never was a man more overcome with astonishment.

"You don't mean it," he gasped; "you don't mean to go and say you've got two hundred pounds, Jack?"

His surprise was almost pathetic.

"I do," I answered, smiling at his earnestness; "and what's more, remember you've offered me the Mother of Pearl for two hundred and fifty pounds. I offer two hundred, cash, if she suits me, and we'll go off and look at her this very minute."

Taking him by the arm, I led the way to the beach, and pushed a boat into the water.

"You can pull," I said, seating myself comfortably in the stern-sheets.

"Who? Me? Not much," he replied; "there's no beastly pride about me. Here you, Tommy," turning to a Solomon boy who stood watching us, "just you jump in and put us aboard the Mother of Pearl yonder, and I won't say but what there mayn't be a plug of tobacco at the end of it."

Five minutes later we were aboard the schooner, and I was closely inspecting her, satisfying myself as to her good and bad qualities. When I had made up my mind, I turned to look for the owner. He was in the boat alongside, refreshing himself from a black bottle he had brought with him. As we pulled ashore, I said—

"Well, Jim, is it to be business?"

"Two fifty, not a red cent under."

"All right," I answered carelessly, "you're the best judge of that. She's not worth two hundred, but I'll give you that cash, otherwise no trade!"

He hung in the wind. Two hundred pounds, he reflected, would not only buy the new boat he wanted, but would enable him to extend his present drinking bout another week. An inspiration struck him—

"Two hundred cash," he said, "and I keep the pumps in her."

"There I'll meet you, though it's giving you the whole business. Is it a bargain?"

"My Colonial!" he replied, and the next moment we stepped ashore.

"Now," I said, "you just toddle away and fix up the papers. I'll be along with the money before you can turn round."

With that we separated, he returning to the hotel where we had met, while I made across the island to the Albino's abode. I found the dwarf at the wash-tub.

"What news?" he shouted, as soon as I approached; "have you talked her over? But there, of course you have, I can see it in your face! Well, what's the result?"

"That I've bought the schooner Mother of Pearl for two hundred pounds."

He eyed me suspiciously for a second, then flicking his fingers to clear them of soap-suds, led the way into the house. Seating himself on the bed, he dried his hands and spoke—

"Bought the Mother of Pearl, have you, and for two hundred pounds? Very good. You'll want another hundred to see you on your way."

Here he took from his drawer a leather bag which he tossed towards me.

"There you are, you'll find it correct, I think. Count it."

Doing as he bade me, I counted the sum out on the rickety little table; three hundred sovereigns in bright gold coin. When I had returned them to their bag, he continued—

"You find it as I say? Well, so much for that. Now, listen to me; have you breathed a word of my existence to your sweetheart? Think carefully before you speak, for I shall be sure to find out if you have."

"I gave you my word I would not," I replied, "and I have kept it; if you doubt me, take your money back."

"No, no," he hastened to say; "bless you, I don't doubt you, not a bit of it; I only wanted to be sure. Now just run along back and complete your bargain."

Before I went, I endeavoured to thank him again for his generosity, but he would not let me. One thing was certain; the more I thought about his action the further I was from understanding it.

Reaching the township I rejoined Jameson, and counted out to him the price of the schooner, which he repeatedly informed me was "dirt cheap at the money." Then leaving him to drink himself into delirium tremens, I pushed on to the "Orient," that I might inform Juanita of my success. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and urged on by it, before bed-time I had not only secured my crew, but had arranged my stores, and accepted the services of a mate.

Next morning I crossed the island to bid the Albino farewell. My surprise may be imagined when I found him gone. Not a trace of his whereabouts could be discovered, and, considerably exercised in my mind regarding him, I returned to make my final preparations. Shortly after midday I escorted Juanita (who had said farewell to the "Orient," amid much lamentation) aboard, and at three o'clock the Mother of Pearl stood out of the bay, bound on the most curious errand she had ever weighed anchor to accomplish. Only then did I learn our destination.

Though she certainly did not realize all the good qualities her late owner had (since the sale) led me to suppose she possessed, the schooner was a handy enough craft, and likely to serve the purpose for which we required her, every bit as well as one costing ten thousand pounds could have done. The best description of her would be to say that she was just a steady-going, serviceable old tub; and as I was not likely, with Juanita on board, to be in too much of a hurry to complete the voyage, that was all we wanted.

The mate proved a decent sort of young fellow. The crew were Kanakas, with a Chinaman cook, who also officiated as steward.

And now comes a portion of my yarn that I am tempted to dwell upon. How can I describe the beauties of that summer voyage? How resist the temptation it offers of indulging in extravagant waste of language? As I sit here recalling it, a strange longing rises in my heart that will not be suppressed; a longing that is not without a touch of sadness and regret. It is impossible, I have to tell myself, that I can expect to cross an old trail without some mixture of pain. Can I, in this fog-ridden England, hope to be allowed to stir up recollections of enchanting islands lifting their green heads from bright blue seas, of umber cliffs peering out of clustering foliage, of azure skies, and trade winds redolent of sweet perfumes, and yet expect to escape scot free?

The only thing regrettable about the voyage was its brevity. Is it therefore to be wondered at that, madly infatuated as I was with the woman who accompanied me, I viewed the prospect of calms with equanimity, and was loth to employ any exertions that would help to hurry it or get it over?

But every moment was bringing us nearer our destination; and at last, one sunset, I was able to tell Juanita, that in all probability another twenty-four hours would find us abreast of the island which contained her husband's grave.

As it turned out, my prophecy proved a correct one, for towards five o'clock on the following afternoon, the high peaks of Vanua Lava appeared above the horizon. By tea-time the schooner had brought the island abeam, and before darkness fell we were anchored off a thickly-wooded promontory, to the right of which Juanita declared her former lord and master lay buried.