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 ash.o.r.e.

"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 cl.u.s.tering 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 anch.o.r.ed off a thickly-wooded promontory, to the right of which Juanita declared her former lord and master lay buried.

CHAPTER V.

A CURIOUS QUEST.

Apart from the fact that it was being undertaken solely for the purpose of digging up and rifling a dead man's body, there was something peculiarly uncanny to me about this voyage to Vanua Lava. And the more I allowed my mind to dwell upon it, the more convinced I became that, somehow or other, what we found would materially affect my welfare. It may therefore be imagined with what interest I gazed across the intervening stretch of water at the thickly-timbered island, now disappearing into the fast-falling shadows. Juanita was wildly excited, and would have liked nothing better than to have gone ash.o.r.e and commenced operations that very night. Indeed, I could not help thinking that the fortune her husband had hidden away must be even larger than she had led me to suppose, if I might estimate its size by her anxiety to obtain possession of the locket.

As soon as tea was over we returned on deck. It was a glorious night.

Overhead, in a coal-black sky, the great stars hung l.u.s.trous and wonderful. Below them all was silence. Not a sound save the subdued voices of the crew forward, and now and again a tiny wave, stirred by some gentle zephyr, breaking against the schooner's side, disturbed the stillness. Then, little by little, the eastern stars began to lose their brilliance. The sky at that end of the island relinquished some of its blackness, and presently, with a majesty untranslatable, the great moon rose into the heavens, casting a mellow light across the silent deep, and touching with silver the topmost trees ash.o.r.e. With her coming a faint breeze stole down to meet us and set the schooner gently rocking.

When we had paced the deck together for a while Juanita drew me to the taffrail, and pa.s.sing her arm through mine in a caressing manner peculiar to herself, fell to talking in a strain which I had never discovered in her before. The impression her conversation forced upon me was that she was trying to excuse herself for a great wrong she had already done or was about to do me, and yet nothing in her actual speech lent any reason to this supposition.

"To-morrow," she said, half to herself, "will decide a great deal for both of us."

"How for both of us, Juanita?" I asked. "If you find what you want over yonder you'll be a rich lady, and then 'good-bye' to poor Jack."

She started as if frightened, and pressed my arm tighter.

"You have been so good to me that I don't know what to say to you," she continued, disregarding my last speech. "Oh, Jack! if we could only be ourselves, free to act and to do whatsoever we wished, instead of being driven so relentlessly on and on by destiny, how much happier we should be! Do you believe in fate?"

"I believe you are my fate," I replied, pressing her hand with all the ardour of a lover, "and what better fate could I ask?"

"Or what worse?" she said sadly. "Jack, my poor Jack, you don't know how you will hate me some day."

"Never, Juanita, and that I'll swear to."

She was silent for a minute or two. When she spoke again there was a bitterness in her voice I had never heard in it before.

"If I had only known and loved you sooner," she went on, "I might have been a better woman. But I was cursed from the very beginning; cursed with a bad mother, cursed with a bad father, cursed with a beauty that was only a snare for sin; lured to my ruin before I was old enough to understand, driven by poverty and despair to be what I am--a woman at war with all the world. Oh, Jack, may the Holy Mother forbid that you may ever know what my life has been! But there, why should I tell you all this? let us be happy and believe in each other to-night, if only for to-night."

"My darling," I cried with real alarm, noticing that big tears were rolling down her cheeks, "what is the matter? Tell me, and let me comfort you. This monotonous voyage has tired you, to-morrow you will be better. Don't give way just at the time when you want all your nerve."

But my advice came too late; she threw herself into my arms and wept as if her heart would break. I could see that she was thoroughly upset, but what had occasioned it I could not of course understand. Since then, however, I have become wiser, and whenever I think of that night on the schooner's deck, under the shadow of the island, I say to myself, "Well, however she may have acted towards me afterwards, at least Juanita loved me then."

When she grew calmer she began again, this time with a sort of malignant fierceness that was equally inexplicable.

"My Jack, if I told you that I was a despicable coward and asked you to weigh anchor to-night and to leave the island without as much as going ash.o.r.e, would you do it? Think before you answer, for heaven and h.e.l.l depend upon it."

I suppose at some period of his life every man has his fate in his hand to do as he likes with. I had mine then, and, as will be seen, I threw it from me. Oh, if I had only taken the opportunity she offered and set sail without rifling that grave, what awful misery for both of us I should have averted! But, blind bat that I was, it was ordained that I should see everything in a wrong light, and so I began immediately to reproach her for her weakness, telling her that since she had come so far to do it, it would be worse than cowardice to return without carrying out her work.

"But, Jack," she said, "if you only knew, if you only knew?"

"If I knew what?" I asked. "Come, come, Juanita, what does all this mystery mean? What are you hinting at? You're in a very extraordinary mood to-night." I was beginning to grow impatient with her.

"Don't," she cried, preparing to burst into tears again, "don't scold me. If you could only know how we shall both look back on this night some day, and how it will comfort me to remember that at least you were not angry then!"