CAPTAIN RAWLINGS PROPOSES "A LITTLE CELEBRATION."
Day after day the work of gathering its hidden wealth from the bottom
of the lagoon went on. Once at least in every week Barry managed to
communicate with Mrs. Tracey, personally or by letter, telling her how
matters were progressing, and asking her to be patient.
"In a week or two," he wrote, "we shall have possession of the
brig--without bloodshed, I hope. Now that Barradas is with us I feel
less anxiety. Whether they suspect him or not we cannot tell, but the
steward said that they (Rawlings and the Greek) certainly have a secret
understanding of some sort concerning Barradas. He (as well as
Barradas himself) believes they have planned to murder him as they
first planned to dispose of me. But they are closely watched, not only
by the steward, but by Barradas himself, who plays his part of 'the
good comrade' well. Heaven forgive the man for his past crimes, for he
is, I know, deeply penitent. Your supposed death weighed heavily on
his mind. When he came to my house that evening and unburthened
himself to me, and I told him that you were alive and living on this
very island, he sobbed like a child and besought me to bring him to
you. In the intensity of his excitement he wanted to set off and walk
round the lagoon to Tebuan to meet you, and I had some little
difficulty in restraining him. He left me to go on board, looking like
another man. He is of an impassioned, excitable nature, but we can
count absolutely upon his discretion not to do anything which would
imperil our plans. Now, good-bye. I trust you are well, and that it
will not be long before we meet again. We are all working hard for
you, and hope to soon see you in possession of your ship, and the
_Mahina's_ white wings spread for Sydney."
This letter was brought to Mrs. Tracey by a Tebuan native, who had
received it from one of Barry's men at the usual rendezvous. She
opened it with an exclamation of pleasure and read it through. Then,
with her hands lying upon her lap, she gave herself up to thought. Her
two attendants, the girls Paní and Toea, watched her with their full,
lustrous eyes as they sat on a mat in the centre of the house smoking
their cigarettes of strong, black tobacco. Without all was silent,
save now and then when an occasional footfall would sound on the path
in front of the quiet dwelling as some native returned to the village
from the beach, carrying a string of fish or a basket of sea-birds'
eggs for the evening meal. Straight from the open door the lagoon lay
shining under the light of myriad stars, its placid waters undisturbed
by even the faintest ripple, for the trade wind had died away with the
setting of the sun, and the fronds of the long belt of palms fringing
the inner beach hung as still as if they had been carven out of stone.
Presently the white woman raised her face, and a smile parted her lips
when she saw how intently the two girls were regarding her, and they
too responded to her glance with smiles, for to them "Alisi," as Mrs.
Tracey was called by the people of Tebuan, was not only a mistress but
a friend--a friend who spoke their own harsh, guttural language as well
as one of themselves, a friend whose dead husband had been the friend
of old Gurden, whose memory was still cherished by every grown person
in Arrecifos as the white man, the white man who had lived so long
among them, and who had married one of their own people. And because
of this, and for her own sake, the people loved Alice Tracey, and not a
man of the now scanty population but would have given up his life for
her.
"Alisi," said Paní, the younger of the two girls, coming over to her
mistress, sitting down beside her, and placing her shapely little brown
hand on the white woman's knee as she gazed into her face, "is it well
with thy friend the white man, Parri (Barry)?"
"It is well, little one," answered Mrs. Tracey, putting her arm round
the girl's naked waist; "all is well with him, and here, in this
writing which he hath sent me, he sayeth that the time is drawing near
when the evil captain of the ship and those with him shall be crushed
and broken."
Paní's eyes glistened. "Oh, would that I could be there to see it all,
for there will be a great fight! He is a great man this Parri, and
hath kind eyes and a strong, handsome body. . . . Alisi?" and the girl
turned her pretty brown face on one side and looked inquiringly into
Mrs. Tracey's eyes.
"Paní?"
"Alisi, dost love Parri? Will he be thy man[1] when thou leavest us?"
"Nay, how can that be, little one? Did I not tell thee and Toea long
ago that he loveth a woman who dwells in my own land, and who awaiteth
his return from the sea?"
Toea threw away her cigarette and swiftly settled herself on the other
side of Mrs. Tracey, pushing aside Paní in mock jealousy, and, taking
her mistress's hand, hugged it to her full and rounded bosom.
"Alisi? tell me. Will Parri be thy man?"
"_Gao!_" and Mrs. Tracey flicked Toea's ear. "Be not so silly ye two.
Have I not said that Parri is bound to another woman? He careth nought
for me, and it is not the fashion in my country for strangers to wed."
"Hath he told thee that he cares not for thee?" enquired Paní.
"Foolish child. He is my friend--not a lover. And my husband is but
dead a little time."
"How can he be thy friend and not thy lover?" persisted Paní. "Thou
art a fair, good woman and he a strong, fine man. Surely he will be
thy man and think no more of this woman who liveth so far away. Hast
ever borne a child, Alisi?"
Mrs. Tracey sighed, and then smiled again. "Never."
"Ah, that was because of some witchcraft, for thy husband who is dead
was a strong, thick man, and thou art one who should bear many
children. Some evil person hath practised witchcraft on thee. But
thou wilt be wife to this man Parri and bear him children. Old
Tuna--she who was mother to Gurden's wife--hath told us that this Parri
will be thy man."
A vivid flush dyed Alice Tracey's cheeks. "Tuna talks foolishly. I
tell thee both that there is a girl fair to look upon to whom this man
is bound, and that he careth nought for me but as a friend."
Paní shook her head gravely. "Tuna is a wise old woman, she can do
many things. She can foretell when death cometh, and can see many
things in the night; she can make the barren woman fruitful and can
bring the rain. And she hath said that this man Parri will be thy
husband, and----"
Mrs. Tracey rose quickly. "Tell me not such foolish things! Come, let
us walk upon the beach a little time ere we sleep."
* * * * * *
Barry received an answer from her the following evening.
"I am so glad to know," she wrote, "that all is going well, for at
times I cannot help a feeling of dread taking possession of me,
especially if I am alone for any length of time, and sometimes I am
afraid to sleep, for I have such dreadful dreams about these men,
Chase, the Greek, and Rawlings. The two girls, Paní and Toea, are,
however, a great comfort to me, and if all goes well I shall ask you a
favour. I want to take one of them away with me in the _Mahina_. . . .
Do you know how I spend my time, or most of it? Very much as you do
during the day, watching the natives bringing in the shell and trying
to imagine how many go to a ton. Then at night-time I am the grand
dame of Tebuan. I light up my mansion of thatch, and all the women of
the village come in and gossip for an hour or two with me, the men
sitting outside in a circle. Last night I divided two hundred sticks
of the tobacco you sent me among them, and in return they honoured me
with a dance. Am I not very childish? I am sure you will think so,
but then I feel so much happier every day now in spite of the horrible
dreams which sometimes torment and make me miserable.
"We have, I should say, quite forty tons of beautiful shell here now,
either cleaned, or rotting out at various places on the beach. Last
week the people told me that they were diving three miles from here,
and could see the brig's masts quite distinctly. I warned them to be
careful. As for the pearls, I am afraid I must show them to you after
all, I am so tired of looking at them by myself. There are over sixty
now for the necklace--nearly every one of which is a perfect match with
the rest. I have them apart from the others in a box of soft white
wood which Paní made for me, and I have called the box 'Rose Maynard's
Dot.'
"Now I must tell you some other news. Yesterday two ships were seen a
long, long way off to the westward. I have no doubt but they are the
first of the sperm whalers making south again towards New Caledonia and
the New Hebrides. We are sure to see several more, and if any of them
come within eight or ten miles, I could have a letter sent off for
you--it would perhaps get to Sydney long before the _Mahina_--and just
imagine how delighted _some one_ would be to hear from you."
So Barry wrote two long letters, one to Rose, and one to Watson,
telling them both that he hoped to see them in less than six months.
To Watson he told the whole of the strange tragedy of the _Mahina_, and
of the marvellous escape of Mrs. Tracey.
"Do not tell Miss Maynard all these horrors," he added; "it would only
cause her intense anxiety, and I have only said that Mrs. Tracey's
husband is dead, and that she is returning to Sydney in the brig. I am
in 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.