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CHAPTER XVI
THE ENDING OF THE BOAT VOYAGE

For the following two days, during which time the gale still blew with unabated force, Tom and his companions found that time did not hang idly on their hands. The Maori had discovered a patch of wild yams growing in the mountain forest, and whilst he dug, and Charlie carried them down to the camp to be baked in preparation for the voyage, Tom was employed in shooting pigeons and manutagi, a species of ringdove, great numbers of which had been driven over to the lee side of the island by the storm.

On the afternoon of the third day the wind hauled round to the south-east, and towards evening it blew with but moderate force; the sea went down rapidly, the sky cleared, and by dawn the ordinary gentle trade had set in, and a deeply blue ocean lay shining and sparkling in the bright and glorious sunshine.

It was decided at breakfast to make a start that evening just after sunset, when they could not possibly be seen by any one on Fotuna. Charlie bluntly asserted that if Captain Hayes caught sight of their boat, he would give chase in the second whaler, 'and then we'd have a mighty bad time. You, Mr. Wallis, would be all right, but me and Mr. Chester might as well jump overboard and let the blue sharks get us, as be taken back to the Leonie again. He's a passionate man, and doesn't stop at trifles. Me he'd either shoot at sight, or half murder me afterwards, during the voyage.'

Immediately after breakfast, Bill started off to collect a few old coco-nuts to add to their already ample store of provisions, and Tom and Charlie remained at the camp to slaughter and cook the two captive piglets, and catch a few more fish; but hardly had they begun operations by lighting a fire, when Bill came running back.

'The Leonie is all right. She's just coming out of Singavi, and will most likely run past here. Put out that fire, quick, and come and look at her.'

'Oh, I'm so glad that she is all right, Bill!' said Tom. 'It would be a pity if such a beautiful vessel sank altogether.'

'Beautiful to look at, you mean,' said the Maori, grimly.

Walking through the forest to the mouth of the creek, they seated themselves on a vine-covered pile of loose boulders, and watched the brig approach. She was running before the wind, and in an hour was so close that many of her people could be recognized. Hayes was leaning on the rail smoking his inevitable cigar, and apparently having a good look at the shore; Mr. Kelly and the other officers were also visible, and a number of the 'blackbirds' were squatted about on the main deck under the care of the usual armed guards. The brig was, of course, much deeper in the water, now that she had more than a hundred tons of yams aboard, but she moved along very quickly. Presently she hauled up a little, so as to round the south point of Alofi, and the unseen watchers heard Hayes's voice for the last time as he called out, 'Steady there, José!' to the man at the wheel. In another five minutes she had disappeared round the headland.

Then Bill turned to his companions, and said, 'Now, Mr. Wallis, and you, Charlie, I would like to say a word. There goes the Leonie, and with her goes any danger to us, if we decide to go back to Fotuna. Now what is it to be-shall we go back? Will you speak first, Mr. Wallis?'

'I vote for Fiji, Bill. I don't want to live on Fotuna for perhaps six months. My father and brother will give me up as dead when the Lady Alicia gets back to Sydney without me.'

Charlie was equally as eager for the boat voyage, pointing out that it could be accomplished without danger; that they had a good boat, and provisions and water enough to last them a month; and that with ordinary fair weather they should reach the Fiji Group in four days at the outside. Bill, who was tacitly understood to be captain, was also in favour of the voyage, and so the matter was decided.

By two o'clock in the afternoon everything was in readiness for a start; but Bill, suspicious that Hayes might imagine they were in hiding somewhere on one of the islands, and only be sailing round the coast to see if he could discover the boat, suggested that they should first make sure of the whereabouts of the Leonie by ascending the highest peak. This they at once set about to accomplish, and after an hour's arduous struggle succeeded in climbing to the summit, and from there obtaining a view of the horizon.

'We're all right,' said Charlie. 'There she is; I can just see her'-and he pointed to a little white speck far away to the eastward; 'she's off, sure enough.'

After resting for a while, and enjoying the glorious view, they descended again, and reached the camp just as darkness fell.

Opening some coco-nuts, Bill poured out a drink each for himself, Charlie and Tom.

'Here's success to our voyage, sir!' he cried, tossing off the liquor, and then sending the shells spinning in the air. 'Now, all hands aboard.'

Tom jumped in, got out his oar, Bill followed, and, with Charlie steering, the boat was pulled out of the tree-darkened little creek into the bright starlight. A hundred yards from the shore the oars were taken in, the boat-lamp, used as a binnacle, lit, the mainsail and jib hoisted, and with a loud 'Hurrah!' from Tom, the little craft was headed S.S.W. with Bill at the tiller-she was steered with either a rudder or a steer oar, the latter being used when there was a strong breeze only.

The night was warm, the breeze fair, and with plenty of heart in it, and the three comrades were all more or less excited and disposed to talk, and made light of the really venturesome voyage before them. Presently Charlie, to Tom's astonishment, began to sing a catching air in Spanish, learnt when he had served in the Chilian navy years before, and Bill, usually so grim and taciturn, joined in the chorus with his deep, guttural tones.

'Hallo, Bill!' cried the white sailor, dropping the 'Mr. Chester,' 'wherever did you learn this old yamacueca jingle?'

'Long, long ago, when I was boat-steerer on the Prudence Hopkins, a New Bedford ship. We had a lot of Chileno hands aboard, and they were always singing it. Now let's quit fooling a bit, and fix up 'bout watches.'

This was soon arranged, and then Bill told Charlie and Tom his plans in detail. He hoped to be able to make the Great Ngele Levu lagoon, remain there for a few days, and then sail across to the island of Rambi, where they were almost sure to find a trading cutter or schooner bound to Levuka; if not, then he would keep on, passing between Taviuni and Vanua Levu, and then head direct for Levuka, where they were certain to meet with a Sydney or New Zealand vessel.

All that night the boat ran before a steady breeze, and at daylight Fotuna and Alofi were fifty miles astern, and there was nothing to break the wide expanse of the ocean around them except a few wandering sea-birds floating upon its bosom. As the sun rose higher, the wind gained in strength without the sea increasing, and the boat slipped through the water in gallant style. A keen look-out was kept astern, for, as Bill said, there was a possibility of their being overtaken by a trading vessel bound from Samoa to Fiji, or a 'blackbirder' heading for the New Hebrides.

Then, as near to eight o'clock as could be judged, the Maori lay down to sleep till midnight, leaving Charlie to steer and Tom to act as 'crew.'

As the night wore on the wind fell somewhat lighter, and both the white sailor and his youthful companion found it hard to resist the feeling of drowsiness which the insidious warmth and beauty of the night was weaving around them.

'Charlie,' said Tom, 'if you will hold the sheet for a minute or two, I'll go for'ard, strip off, and souse some water over myself. I can't keep awake.'

Charlie nodded. 'Right you are, sir; but it's hardly worth while now. I think it must be about eight bells, and time to call the skipper.'

Passing the mainsheet over to him, Tom picked up the bucket used as a bailer, stepped over the mast thwart to the bows, and began to strip, when Charlie sprang to his feet.

'I say, sir, here's a ship close to!' And then his voice rang out loudly-

'Ship ahoy!'

The Maori was up in an instant, his seaman's eye took one quick glance at the dark, towering mass of canvas not two hundred yards away, and almost right abeam. Seizing the tiller from Charlie, he called out sharply-

''Bout ship, in with the mainsheet there; she's close-hauled, and we'll catch her up in no time. Give another hail, Charlie. Mr. Wallis, take this lamp, stand up for'ard and sway it; hold it up as high as you can.'

Round went the boat, and then, to their intense delight, at Charlie's second hail, and as Tom swayed his light, an answering cry came from the ship-

'Boat ahoy, there! We see you,' followed by the rattle and squeaking of blocks as the ship's braces were let go, and her main-yard swung back. Then a bright light was shown from the weather mizzen rigging, and a voice hailed-

'Are you able to come alongside? I've lost three of my boats, and the other two are badly damaged.'

'Yes, thank you,' answered Bill, as he and Charlie lowered the mast and sail; 'we'll pull alongside.'

Ten minutes later, Tom and his companions were standing on the deck of the barque Adventurer, of New Bedford, Captain Frank Herrendeen, a typical American whaling skipper, who received them very kindly, his first question being whether they were hungry.

'No, sir,' replied Tom, who, at Bill's suggestion, acted as spokesman; and then, in as few words as possible, he told their story, adding, 'We have suffered no hardships whatever since we left the island, and were making for Fiji. Where are you bound for, captain?'

'Fotuna Island. Won't that suit you?' he inquired, noticing the look of disappointment on their faces.

'The fact is, sir, I have a very strong reason for wishing to get to Fiji or some place where I can find a ship as quickly as possible,' said Tom, who then gave his reasons as briefly as possible, the captain listening with the greatest interest.

'Well, don't decide in a hurry. Come below and let us have some talk. Mr. Burr, don't hoist in these men's boat; put a hand in her to steer, and then veer her astern. She'll tow nicely enough in such weather as this until daylight.'

As soon as they entered the well-lighted cabin, the captain motioned them to seats, and then, as his eye fell on the dark features of the Maori half-caste, he uttered an exclamation of pleasure.

'Why, it's William Chester, as sure as I'm Frank Herrendeen. How are you, William?' and rising, he shook hands warmly with Bill, saying to Tom, 'Why, this man was boat-steerer with me when I was mate of the Prudence Hopkins, seven years ago.'

The steward brought the three men liquor and cigars, and Tom a cup of hot coffee; and then the skipper of the whaler went into the subject uppermost in his mind at once.

'Now look here. I don't want to induce you three to do anything against your wills; but I'd be mighty glad if you'd give the word, and let me have that boat of yours hoisted on deck. I'm in a tight place, and that's the truth of it, and I'd like you to help me. We had a heavy blow a few days ago, lost five men overboard-my fourth mate was one-and the ship started a butt end, and is leaking; you'll hear the pumps going presently. Two of my boats were swept away one after another, and it was while endeavouring to secure the third that the fourth mate and four of the hands were carried overboard; the ship was thrown on her beam ends at the same time, and the poor fellows were never seen again. So that is why I should like you to give up the idea of going to Fiji-to be right out plain with you, I want to buy that boat. I'll give you two hundred dollars for her, and if you, William, will take a 'fourth mate's berth, I'll be mighty pleased.'

Bill shook his head. 'I can't do it, captain. I've pledged my word to Captain Hawkins to stick to Mr. Wallis here, and I can't go back on it. If you were not cruising, but were bound to a port where me and Mr. Wallis and Charlie here could strike a ship going to Australia, it would be different.'

The master of the whaler jumped to his feet. 'But I'm not cruising exactly, William. I'm going to make Fotuna to heave the barque down and try and get at the leak, and pick up some hands in place of those I've lost; then I'm going to Samoa to land a couple of passengers (I'll tell you all about them presently), and at Samoa you and this young man can get a passage to either Sydney or New Zealand easy enough. You'll reach Australia from Samoa just as quick as you can from Fiji. Come, William, just study it out. I do want that boat of yours real bad. I haven't one I can lower, if we raise a whale. And a boat may mean a lot to me between here and Samoa.'

Bill looked at Tom, and Tom at Bill. The skipper's anxious face appealed to them both.

'I think we can get to Sydney sooner by going on to Fiji, Captain Herrendeen,' said Bill, bluntly; 'there is more chance of a Sydney ship to be met with there than in Samoa. But if Mr. Wallis is willing for us to-'

As he was speaking, one of the cabin doors on the port side opened, and a woman's soft voice said-

'Can I help in any way, Captain Herrendeen? Solepa tells me that you have picked up a boat with some shipwrecked men. I was fast asleep. Shall I dress and come out?'

The captain got up out of his seat and went to the door.

'Don't you worry, Mrs. Casalle; the men are all right. Good night.'

With eyes gleaming with excitement, Tom sprang to the captain's side just as the door was shut.

'Casalle, Mrs. Casalle! Did you say Casalle, sir,' he said, 'of the Bandolier?'

'Yes, Casalle, that is the lady's name. She and her servant are my passengers. Her husband's ship was the Bandolier, and ran on to Middleton Reef, and nearly all hands were lost-'

'No, they were not!' Tom shouted. 'Captain Casalle and a lot of his men and his little girl came to Port Kooringa in a boat. I saw them; I saw them, captain, I tell you! They came to our house. They-'

Herrendeen raised his hand tremblingly. 'Steady, my boy, steady, for God's sake! She's a poor little weak sort of thing, and this news might kill her right out. Are you certain?'

'I am certain, captain,' replied Tom, with an irrepressible sob of joy; 'I am certain-Captain Casalle! the Bandolier! and all the rest of it! There can be no mistake. He told Foster and I that his wife was drowned with the second mate, two men, and a Samoan girl.'

Captain Herrendeen's voice quavered as he put out his hand to Tom. 'Say, let us tell it to her quietly. William, and you, mister, just go on deck awhile.'

The Maori and Charlie at once went on deck, and left Tom and Captain Herrendeen alone. The captain sat down with his hand to his brow for a minute or so, and then looked at Tom with a strange smile on his face.

'I've been dreaming, my boy; but it's all ended now, and I'm glad, real glad.'

He rose from his seat and tapped gently at the cabin door from which the woman's voice had issued.

'Mrs. Casalle,' he called softly, 'will you dress and come out? I have some real, downright good news for you.'

'Good news, Captain Herrendeen,' said the same musical voice Tom had heard before; 'I think I know what it is-you have found the leak, and we are bearing away for Samoa.'

'Better than that, Mrs. Casalle,' said the captain, turning to Tom, with a smile; 'just you come out, quick.'

There was a murmur of two female voices; then the cabin door opened, and a slenderly-built, pale-faced, dark-haired woman came out, followed by a young native girl.

'What is your good news, Captain Herrendeen?' she said, with a faint smile, as she bowed to Tom, who, boy-like, was too confused to speak for the moment.

'Sit down here, Mrs. Casalle,' and the captain led her to a seat. 'This young man here will tell you something that will do your heart good, something-now just you sit here beside me; and there … hold on. Now, young fellow-'

Tom, trying to conceal his nervousness, and yet look dignified at the same time, came forward and took her hand.

'Mrs. Casalle, I am Tom Wallis. Captain Casalle and your little girl are safe. They came to Port Kooringa in one of the boats belonging to the Bandolier.'

She looked at him in a half-dazed sort of way, and then fainted off quietly into Captain Herrendeen's arms.

'She'll be all right presently,' said the captain. 'Here, bear a hand, Solepa. I guess you know what to do better than me.'

'Oh yes, I know, I know,' answered the native girl, quickly; 'she have faint like this plenty of time. You can go, sir. She will soon get better now with me.'

Leaving Mrs. Casalle with her attendant, the captain returned to the main cabin.

'Now, Mr. Wallis, you'll have to sit up and keep me company for an hour or two, until the poor little woman feels better; steward, get a spare bunk ready for Mr. Chester; and let the red-haired man turn in here until breakfast time.'

'You have made up your mind that we're going to Fotuna with you, then, captain?' said Tom, with a smile.

'Of course I have; and of course you have, too? Come, a day or two won't matter much to you, and during that time I'll have talked you round, and get you to come on to Samoa with me. You have just saved the little woman's life, and she'll want to talk to you for about a week, anyway. Come, promise me.'

Neither Tom nor Bill could refuse such a request, and then presently the captain, putting his hand on the former's shoulder, asked him if he was too tired to tell him about the rescue of the captain of the Bandolier.

'Not a bit,' answered Tom; 'and then I want to know how Mrs. Casalle was saved. I heard her husband say that she, the second mate, two seamen, and the nurse were all drowned.'

'Only one hand was drowned. Mrs. Casalle, the second mate, the Samoan girl, and the other sailor managed to cling on to the swamped boat, which they succeeded in clearing of water after a while. They drifted about all night, and about seven o'clock in the morning found themselves quite close to Elizabeth Reef. They had no oars, but by breaking up the bottom boards of the boat they managed to get on shore, lived there on birds' eggs for nearly a week, and there I found them. Then I sailed to and examined Middleton Reef, but found no trace of any other survivors. She and the girl have been with me ever since, waiting to get back to Samoa; the second mate and men are with me, too.'

At sunrise Solepa, the native girl, whose brown face was radiant with smiles, came on deck.

'If you please, captain, will dis gentleman come now and talk to her? She is better.'

Tom went below, and found Mrs. Casalle waiting for him. She was deathly pale, but tried hard to speak calmly.

'You are sure, quite sure,' she said tremblingly, as she grasped Tom's hand convulsively; 'my husband and my child! You saw them?'

Pitying her intensely, Tom told her the whole story. She did not faint again-only laid her head on Solepa's bosom and wept tears of joy and thankfulness.

Just as Tom rose to leave her, the native girl beckoned him to come back.

'Did you see any Samoa men in that boat, sir?' she asked quietly. 'I did have my brother on board. His name was Salu. I 'fraid he was drown'.'

'There were thirteen men in the boat,' said Tom, 'but I cannot tell you if any of them were Samoans. There were only three or four white men, though; so very likely your brother was there. I hope so,' he added kindly.

Solepa smiled sadly. 'I hope so. But if he is drown' I will not cry no more now, for we shall see the captain and little Nita again.'

CHAPTER XVII
BACK TO FOTUNA

That morning after breakfast, as the Adventurer heeled her weather-beaten sides over the trade wind, and the clanking pumps sent a stream of clear water through the lee scuppers, Tom and Bill on the one part, and Herrendeen on the other part, made a bargain.

Mrs. Casalle had come on deck and was reclining in a cane lounge, with Solepa sitting at her feet fondling her hands and looking into her mistress's face, as she talked volubly to her in Samoan. With her new-found happiness shining in her eyes, and tinting her pale cheeks, Mrs. Casalle seemed to scarcely heed the girl's prattle-she was trying to hear the good-natured argument going on between Tom, the Maori, and the captain. The two hours' talk she had had with Tom had not satisfied her; she wanted to hear his story over and over again; to hear him tell her how he had carried 'the little one' up from the beach and placed her in Kate Gorman's arms; to question him again about her husband and how he looked, and about Port Kooringa, and his own father and brother, and Kate-and then to lie down and think of God's goodness to her in sparing husband and child to meet her again. Oh, if she could but know where they were now!

She closed her eyes for a moment, and tried to think how many long, long months would pass before she would hear those loved voices and see those dear faces again. The breeze played with her soft hair under the wide Panama hat she wore, and then she heard Herrendeen's tones.

'Now, let us go and tell Mrs. Casalle.'

She sat up with extended hands-one for Herrendeen, the other for Tom-'What is it you are going to tell me, captain? Only one thing in the world can make me happier than I am now.'

'And I reckon you shall have that one thing before long,' said the captain, knowing what she meant, and pressing her hand between both his own. 'Now here is what we have to say. Young Mr. Wallis here, and Bill-this is Mr. William Chester, Mrs. Casalle, one of the best men in the world that ever gripped a whale lance-and we have been talking. They wanted to go in their boat to Fiji, and I said it was just flyin' in the face of Providence.'

'But you will not-surely you will not?' she said to Tom, excitedly; 'think of the dangers of a boat voyage-the risks, the terrible risks. I am a sailor's wife-and I know.'

Tom smiled. 'There is not much risk for us, Mrs. Casalle. We could easily reach Fiji in another day or two. Why, Captain Casalle and thirteen men made a voyage of 400 miles in bad weather to Port Kooringa! But, as I told you, I was anxious to get to Fiji because we thought that from there we could sooner get a ship to Australia. And my poor father and brother-'

Her eyes filled at once. 'Ah, of course! I did not think of that. See how selfish and thoughtless my own happiness makes me! Forgive me; but oh, do not go away in the boat; do not, do not, I beg of you! You are safer here. In a boat you run such awful risks.'

'Just what I said, Mrs. Casalle,' broke in Herrendeen. 'I say that this young man, who has had enough escapes from death to last an or'nary person all his life, and has a father and brother, has no business to think of scooting around the Pacific in a whaleboat when he has a good solid deck under his feet. And so he isn't going to do it. He's just coming along with us to Samoa.'

'I am so glad; perhaps we may meet my husband and child there.'

'Just what I said. Your husband wasn't likely to stay long at Port Kooringa. He would naturally try to get back to Samoa, where he had his trading station, as soon as he possibly could, if only to settle up his business before going to sea again. Now I shouldn't be a bit surprised if we hear that he has been there, and we'll know where he's gone to. Perhaps he may be there when we arrive.'

The wife's eyes lit up, and again a smile illumined her beautiful face. 'Ah, Captain Herrendeen, how you talk! If I were strong enough, I would just get up and dance with you and Solepa and Mr. Wallis. I'm a girl again to-day, and don't care what I do. Come here, Tom-I guess I won't say "Mr." any more-now stoop. Why, you're as tall as a man, and I shouldn't do it, but I just shall!' and putting her hands on Tom's cheeks, she kissed him half a dozen times, much to the amusement of Herrendeen and Solepa, the latter clapping her hands and crying, 'Malie, malie! Ua fia fia lau lotu, seula misi!'⁶

'Yes, Solepa. My heart is glad. So glad that I think sometimes everything is but a happy dream, and that to-morrow I shall awake to sorrow again,' said Mrs. Casalle, in English, as she raised her face to the captain.

'Well, I reckon when you look at me, Mrs. Casalle, and Tom, and Bill Chester here, and hear those darned old pumps agoing again, and have to eat salt pork and beans again for dinner, you'll conclude it isn't a dream,' said Herrendeen, with a kindly smile; 'and with this wind we can lay up pretty close to Fotuna, and ought to be there by to-morrow night, and then, while we're getting at this blamed leak, you can rest ashore, and try and pick up a bit. Ten days of a beat-if we have to beat-will bring us to Samoa, and then, Mrs. Casalle, if your husband is there, you just shall have a dance with me.'

'Indeed I shall. You, and Tom here, and you, Mr. Chester, and Mr. Burr, and every one on this ship who has been kind to me-and every one hasbeen kind to me-shall dance me off my feet.' She spoke merrily, but her voice trembled nevertheless, and ended in something like a sob, as she lay back on the lounge, and looked at them with eyes filled with happy tears.

By this time the boat had been hoisted in, and presently Maori Bill, lifting his cap to Mrs. Casalle, went down to the main deck, and picking up a bunch of young coco-nuts, brought them up on the poop, and placed them at Solepa's feet.

'These are for thee, O maid with the star-like eyes!' he said gravely to her in Samoan, 'but first let me offer one to the white lady.'

Mrs. Casalle started, and smiled as she heard him speak in Samoan, and then took from him and drank part of a nut which he opened and presented to her. Then she asked Tom to come below. 'You can stay here, Solepa,' she said in English to the girl, 'until I call you.'

Maori Bill, although usually slow of speech, was no laggard in love-making. Leaning against the fife-rail, he set to work without delay.

'From what part of Samoa do ye come?' he asked.

'From Leone in Tutuila, where my mistress lives. Why do ye ask?'

'Because thou must be my wife. I love thee. When we get to Samoa I shall ask for thee.'

'I shall say "No,"' said the girl, looking at him from the corner of her eye as she raised a coconut to her lips.

'Why? Am I ill-favoured? I will make thee a good husband. Many will envy thee.'

'Aue! Hear the man talk!' and Solepa rolled her eyes up at the sky. 'Tell me, how came ye to speak my tongue so well?'

'Such things are easy to me,' said Bill, affably; 'when we are married I shall teach thee to speak good English. We shall marry in Apia at the mission church; then thou shalt go to Tutuila with thy mistress, and wait till I return from Sydney. I have money saved up there. Then when I return I will buy a cutter, and trade on the coast. Hast many poor relations?'

'Not many.'

'That is good. It is a bad thing for a wife to have people who eat up her husband's substance. But yet I am not a mean man.'

'Why dost thou want me for wife?' said the girl, edging a little nearer to him, and looking up at his stalwart figure.

'Because I am a widower, and I have some money saved, and want to live in mine own house again. My dead wife was a girl of Thikombia in Fiji.'

'Pah!' said Solepa, turning down her lips in contempt. 'Ou te inoino fafine Viti, e matapua'a.'⁷

'True, very true,' said Bill, diplomatically, 'many of them be ugly; but she was not. She was beautiful; but yet not so beautiful as thee, Solepa.'

He took a silver ring off his little finger, and, stooping down, lifted her left hand.

'It is large for even the largest of thy fingers,' he said, placing it on; 'but when we get to Apia I shall buy thee one of gold. Art content to promise me?'

Solepa nodded placidly. 'Ay, I am content to wed thee; but not content to leave the white lady. I would be always tavini tausi tama (nurse) to her.'

Bill waved his hand magnificently. 'It may be that I shall let thee remain to serve her while I go to sea. But I cannot tell now. Try and please me, and all will be well.'

Then, filling his pipe, he strolled for'ard, to announce his engagement to Charlie, for whom he had conceived a liking.

During the morning Mrs. Casalle gave Tom an interesting account of her home in Leone Bay, on the Island of Tutuila. She had an ardent admiration of the Samoans generally, and of the girl Solepa she spoke in terms of absolute affection. 'She saved my life over and over again that dreadful night, Tom; for although I can swim unusually well for a white woman, I was dulled and paralyzed with fear. Then, when we reached Elizabeth Reef, she tended and nursed me back to life again, for I really was at the verge of death from exhaustion and grief. I do hope the poor girl's brother Salu was one of the boat's crew which reached Port Kooringa. She has fretted and grieved in silence, and until this morning has hardly mentioned his name, for fear it would add a fresh poignancy to my own constant and unhappy reflections.' She paused awhile, and then resumed, in brighter tones-

'And so, after all your own strange adventures, you are still bent on a sailor's life? Would it not be delightful if you could sail with my husband? He, of course, now that the Bandolier is lost, must get another ship.'

'I should be only too glad,' answered Tom, 'especially if Captain Casalle continues in the South Seas.'

'Well, we shall know before many months-perhaps weeks-are past. Of course you will have to go home first. Then you must come to us in Samoa. Now tell me something about that strange man, Captain Hayes. I have often heard of him from the natives, who always speak well of him. He sometimes visits Apia with a cargo of natives, but our home is sixty miles from there, so neither my husband nor myself have ever seen him.'

'He knew of Captain Casalle by name,' said Tom, who then gave her a description of Hayes himself, his ship's company, and the fight on board. Then he told her all about old Sam and his wonderful brig, at which she was greatly amused.

'I should like to meet the dear old fellow,' she exclaimed.