Edward Barry, George Lewis Becke [lightweight ebook reader txt] 📗

hopes we may run across a man-of-war; if so I can get rid of these gallows' birds for a time, at any rate, before they are brought to trial. Good-bye and good luck."

He sent the letters down to Tebuan by Velo that night, and then work went on with renewed energy--Barry with the boats, Rawlings and the Greek amid the stench of the decaying oysters on the sandbank; and Barradas, silent, grim, and determined, attended to the brig, and began to prepare her for sea again, assisted by the four white seamen.

Then came the time when the divers ceased from work, and the last boatloads of shell were landed on the islet; for the little brig had as much as she could carry with safety stowed in her holds, and was deeper in the water than she had ever been since the day she was launched.

And that evening, whilst Rawlings and the boatswain were ashore at the village, bathing in fresh water from a native well, Barradas and the steward were quietly at work in the trade room, opening a case of Snider carbines, quickly cleaning and oiling the breeches, and then passing them, with an ample supply of cartridges, into the eager hands of Joe and Velo, by whom they were carried into the foc's'le, and given to those others of the crew then on board. Each man received his weapon in silence, and hid it under the mats of his bunk.

"When is it to be, Velo?" asked one of the divers.

"It may be to-night," replied the Samoan. "Be ye ready when the time comes."

Returning to the trade room the empty case was nailed up again, and another full one lifted on top of it. In the main cabin itself there was a stand of twenty rifles with cutlasses, but these were not disturbed for the time, as the absence of even one would most likely be noticed by Rawlings' eye.

* * * * * *


After they had finished their bath the captain and Paul, carrying their towels in their hands, strolled up to Barry's house. He had just lit his lamp, and with a native sailor helping him was packing up his traps, for this was his last night on shore.

"Ah! putting your house in order, Barry?" said Rawlings blandly.

"Yes, just straightening up a bit, and getting my gear ready to take it on board," he replied.

"We must have a little bit of a celebration tonight, I think," resumed Rawlings, "and let the men have a final fling too. They have worked splendidly under your management; and our success is largely due to you."

Barry nodded. "Yes, they've worked very well indeed. And I think we might have a bit of a celebration, as you suggest. Let us say tomorrow night. I'm a bit too tired to-night, and at daylight I'll start off with Velo and shoot a couple of pigs for the men. They'll think a lot of that."

"Quite so! A first-rate idea, Mr. Barry. They can have the whole day and night to themselves." Then after a pause he began to discuss with his officer the probabilities of the future--the return of the Mahina and the establishment of a permanent pearling station on the lagoon.

Barry listened, now and then making a suggestion of his own, for which, as usual, Rawlings thanked him effusively.

"And you think, Mr. Barry, that this lagoon can be fished for many years?" he inquired.

"Certain. It would take us four or five years as we have been working, without touching the deep-water patches. The bottom of this lagoon is paved with shell. There are hundreds of thousands of pounds' worth of shell in it yet, let alone the pearls."

The Greek's greedy eyes lit up and his white teeth set. "Ah, ah, ah!" he said pantingly.

"Well, we will have our celebration to-morrow night, Mr. Barry," said Rawlings genially.

"Yes, we will wind up everything by a good time to-morrow night," answered the mate with unusual warmth, as after some further talk he walked down to the boat and went off on board with them.

Just before supper he strolled along the main deck. Barradas was in the waist leaning over the bulwarks, smoking and watching the movements of some large fish in the phosphorescent water. He raised his head as the mate came near, and looked at him inquiringly.

"Not to-night," said Barry in a low voice, as he passed; "but is everything ready?"

The second mate nodded.

"Let the men go ashore if they wish."

"We could do it now--easily," muttered Barradas, as the mate again passed him.

"No," said Barry quickly; "to-morrow night will be best. I have something on shore which must be attended to. But I'll be back early in the afternoon."

As soon as supper was over Barry turned in, telling the steward to call him at daylight. Rawlings and the others sat up late, but their talk did not disturb him, for he was really tired, and meant to get a good night's rest to fit him for the work he had in hand on the following day and night.



[1] Synonymous for husband.



CHAPTER XII.


BARRY AND VELO DISCOURSE ON MARRIAGE.

At daylight Barry came on deck, and after a cup of coffee and a biscuit he and Velo, each carrying a rifle, set out in the dinghy with two hands in her, towards one of the islands on the north side of the lagoon. Here, in full view of those on board the brig, they drew the boat up on the beach, leaving the two native sailors in charge, and then struck off into the palm grove, walking steadily on till they reached the centre of the island.

"Let us wait here, Velo," said the officer; "this is the place where a messenger from Mrs. Tracey is to meet us."

Laying their rifles down they sat under the shade of a great jack-fruit tree, whose wide-spreading branches towered even higher than the lofty coco-palms which surrounded it. For nearly an hour they waited, listening to the ceaseless hum of the surf upon the outer reef as the long, swelling billows rose, curled their green cress, and broke upon the rocky barrier of living coral. Overhead the blue vault of sky--where it could be seen--was unflecked by a single cloud, and the bright, blazing sun sent shafts of yellow light through the leafy aisles of the island forest as it rose higher and higher, and dried the cooling night dew which lay upon leaf and bough, and verdant undergrowth and soft, tufted moss. Westward from where they sat the wide waters of the unruffled lagoon stretched clear for twenty miles--a sheet of shining blue and green--with here and there a streak of molten silver on which flocks of snow-white sea birds lay floating lazily. Four or five miles away on the port hand the little Mahina loomed high up out of the water, like a ship of two thousand tons.

Barry, with his pipe in his mouth, lay on his back, looking contentedly up into the blue dome above, thinking of and picturing to himself the "love lit" eyes of Rose Maynard which would greet him on his return; of the poverty in which she and her father existed, and the joy which would be his when he took them from their squalid surroundings. They would all go to Pfahlert's Hotel--that was the swagger hotel in Sydney--and whilst he and old Mr. Maynard "trotted around" and enjoyed themselves, Rose, sweet Rose, and Mrs. Tracey would fuss about over the coming wedding and buy the trousseau and all that sort of thing. Of course Mrs. Tracey would fall in love with Rose at sight--that was a foregone conclusion--and would perhaps live with her when he was at sea. For he would go to sea again--to work for Alice Tracey, who might perhaps give him a share in Arrecifos and its riches. What a lucky devil he was after all!

He flung out his arms and stretched himself with a contented sigh and an unconscious smile.

"Parri," said Velo, speaking in Samoan, "thy thoughts are pleasant?"

"Moni, moni, lava,[1] Velo," he replied with a laugh; "pleasant indeed, for I was thinking of the woman I love."

Velo's dark eyes lit up and he nodded approvingly. "And she loves thee, Parri. I have seen it in her eyes. Ah, she is good to look upon indeed. May she bear thee many children."

Barry was puzzled for a moment, then it flashed upon him that Velo was upon the wrong tack.

"Whom dost thou mean, Velo?" he asked.

"Whom but she whom thou wilt see presently--the wife of the dead captain," replied the Samoan, elevating his brows in astonishment.

"Nay, not she, Velo; though as thou sayest she is a fair, good woman. But she is but a friend; the woman I love liveth far away in Sini." [2]

Velo puffed at his pipe in silence for a few seconds ere he answered.

"But this woman Alisi loves thee, and she and thee are mau tonu,[3] together. If thou dost not take her to wife she will be shamed in the eyes of all men."

The white man laughed again. "Not in the eyes of all men, Velo; the customs of us Englishmen are different from those of thy people. This woman is nothing to me and I am nothing to her but a friend. The ship is hers, and I am her servant, pledged to her service--that is all."

Velo shook his head. "Thou art more than a servant to her; thou art her toa (champion), and we all have said from the first that she and thee would wed."

Again Barry laughed amusedly. "Thou wouldst marry me to her against my own will, Velo."

"She is beautiful, and a widow, and a fitting mate for a strong man like thee," replied Velo energetically. "I have seen many white women, but none so good to look upon as her. And she is a widow."

"What has that to do with me? Did I make her a widow?"

"Do not mock at me, Parri," answered the Samoan with grave respect; "but because she is a widow and thou art working for her to overcome her enemies, it is but right and proper that thou shouldst make her thy wife."

"And what of the woman in Sydney to whom I am pledged?"

"Totogi lona aiga," [4] said Velo. "If she be young and handsome she will find another lover, and can have no cause of complaint against thee if thou dost compensate her."

Barry had a strong sense of humour, so he said he would think the matter over, whereat Velo seemed well pleased, and relapsed into silence for a few minutes. Then he began again.

"Parri, I would like to tell thee of a little thing which is in my mind."

"All right, Velo, go ahead," said Barry in English, as he sat up and filled his pipe; "what is the 'little thing'?"

"Only that