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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 18:55:49 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 18:55:49 -0700 |
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diff --git a/44718-h/44718-h.htm b/44718-h/44718-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..715d5e0 --- /dev/null +++ b/44718-h/44718-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10033 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Exiles of Faloo, by Barry Pain--The Project Gutenberg eBook + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + margin-top: 2em; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + + +.lock {white-space: nowrap;} + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} +.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} + +.small {font-size: small;} +.smaller {font-size: smaller;} +.xx-large {font-size: xx-large;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {margin-left: 30%; width: 40%; margin-right: 30%;} +hr.full {margin-left: 2.5%; width: 95%; margin-right: 2.5%;} + +ul { list-style-type: none; } + +.break +{ + page-break-before: always; +} + +h1,h2 +{ + page-break-before: always; +} + +.nobreak +{ + page-break-before: avoid; +} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + right: 1%; + font-size: x-small; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + font-style: normal; + letter-spacing: normal; + text-indent: 0em; + text-align: right; + color: #999999; + background-color: #ffffff; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + +.centredpara {display: inline-block; text-align: left;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + + +img {border: thin solid black;} + +/* Transcriber's notes */ +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + padding:0.5em; + margin-bottom:5em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44718 ***</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 375px;"> +<img id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="cover" /> +</div> + + + +<h1> +THE<br /> +EXILES OF FALOO</h1> + +<p class="p2 center"> +<span class="smaller">BY</span><br /> + +BARRY PAIN<br /> + +<span class="small">AUTHOR OF “THE GIFTED FAMILY”</span></p> + +<p class="p2 center">SECOND EDITION</p> + +<p class="p2 center">METHUEN & CO.<br /> +36 ESSEX STREET W.C.<br /> +LONDON +</p> + + + +<div class="break p4 center"> +<div class="centredpara"> +<i>First Published ... March 10th 1910<br /> +Second Edition ... March 1910</i> +</div></div> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> + + + + +<p class="break p4 center xx-large">THE EXILES OF FALOO</p> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER I</h2> + + +<p>Overhead a blue sky without a cloud; +in the distance the sound of the surf—a +muffled bass which broke on the tink of the +bell at the French Mission or the scream of +the parrot on the broad verandah of the +Exiles’ Club.</p> + +<p>On the lawn in front of the verandah two +natives had just finished their reluctant work +with the mower. They wore loin-cloths of +tappa and nothing else. The head-gardener +wore a loin-cloth of tappa and a white evening-dress +waistcoat, the latter being the gift of +Dr Soames Pryce. The waistcoat was +splendid but unclean. The head-gardener +had been inspecting the work of the others +from a recumbent position. All three passed +away now along the grass path under the +laden orange trees. Two gorgeous butterflies +chased one another over the lawn in the +sunshine.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> + +<p>The plaited blind in front of the French +windows was pushed back and Sir John Sweetling +appeared on the verandah. He was a +man of fifty-five, six feet in height and inclined +to corpulence. On the whole a handsome +man, with a short white beard and moustache +neatly trimmed, and fearless blue eyes under +shaggy white brows. The nose was perhaps +a trifle nosey. He wore a white silk shirt, +white ducks, a brown holland jacket and a +panama of the finest texture.</p> + +<p>Sir John lingered for a moment beside the +parrot’s perch. He scratched the bird’s neck, +and said in an affectionate voice, “Poor old +Polly.”</p> + +<p>The parrot bent down and got to work with +its beak on the perch, much as if the perch +had been a steel and the beak a carving-knife +which it was trying to sharpen. Then it sat +up, drew its indecent lids over its solemn eyes +once or twice, and spoke distinctly.</p> + +<p>“You damned thief,” said the parrot.</p> + +<p>It was an observation which had been addressed +to Sir John before, and not only by +parrots.</p> + +<p>Sir John shook his head. “Naughty bird,” +he said, “naughty bird!” Then he came<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> +down the steps of the verandah on to the +lawn. Three lounge chairs were grouped +about a small table, and Sir John took the +most comfortable of the three. On the table +were books of a ledger-like appearance, writing +materials, and a bell. Sir John struck +the bell with a fat brown forefinger.</p> + +<p>The head-gardener came out from the +orange trees. After all, he was not only the +head-gardener. He smiled ingratiatingly, as +if to say that he took a personal interest in +Sir John, and it would be a positive pleasure +to him to do anything for him. From a +natural friendliness, which only broke down +under severe stress, all the natives wore this air +of interest in the white man and of readiness to +serve them in any way. As a matter of fact +no native, with the solitary exception of King +Smith, ever did anything that he could possibly +avoid. The climate is relaxing, and the cokernut +palm supplies many wants.</p> + +<p>Sir John looked at the man doubtfully. +“Well, yes, you’ll do,” he said. “Go and +tell Thomas that I want a lime-squash, no +sugar, and a double Hollands in it.”</p> + +<p>The head-gardener repeated the order, with +a careworn look beginning to gather on his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +handsome, dusky face. The club-house was +at least twenty yards away, and he would +have to walk every step of it. He walked +very gracefully and very slowly, a slight wind +fluttering the buckle straps of his waistcoat +behind. On the verandah he paused to rest +and to tease the parrot.</p> + +<p>“Get on, you dog,” shouted Sir John. And +the head-gardener got on.</p> + +<p>Presently Thomas appeared with the drink. +At one time he had been desk-waiter at the +Cabinet Club, London. At the Exiles’ Club, +in this very tiny and remote island, he was a +combination of steward and head-waiter. He +wore black trousers and neck-tie and a white +jacket. He was grey-haired, round-faced, and +loose-mouthed.</p> + +<p>Sir John let the ice clink musically against +the glass. It was almost the only æsthetic +pleasure that he enjoyed. He took a long +suck at a couple of straws and then, as he +fumbled for his money, said plaintively:</p> + +<p>“I say, Thomas, aren’t they coming?”</p> + +<p>“Coming directly, sir. The green lizard +won, and they are not racing again, Mr +Bassett having no more ready money with +him.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Childish—utterly childish,” said Sir John, +irritably.</p> + +<p>“Your change, sir?”</p> + +<p>“It was half-a-crown I gave you.”</p> + +<p>“I took it for a florin,” said Thomas, quite +unembarrassed. “My mistake. Sorry, sir.”</p> + +<p>Down the steps of the verandah towards +Sir John came Mr Bassett and Dr Soames +Pryce. Mr Bassett was a very short man. +His face was ape-like and had a fringe beard +of sandy grey. He was overshadowed by an +immense Terai felt hat, and was a quaint +figure until you got used to him. He occupied +the honorary position of secretary to the +Exiles’ Club. Dr Soames Pryce was a man of +medium height and magnificent figure—a +chest deep and broad, small waist and hips, +powerful muscles, and no spare flesh. He was +clean-shaven, and his ugly, strong face suggested +a cynical Napoleon. He wore a shirt +and trousers of white flannel and a pith +helmet.</p> + +<p>“My lizard won, Sweetling,” he said, as he +sank into one of the lounge chairs.</p> + +<p>“So Thomas has been telling me,” said Sir +John, reflectively. “Wish I’d backed it.”</p> + +<p>“Tell you what, Bassett,” said the doctor,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +sharply. “You were grumbling—said you’d +never seen your browny run so badly. I’ll +back my green one against him once more for +another sovereign—run it off to-morrow +morning.”</p> + +<p>“Can’t,” said Bassett. “Killed mine—always +kill losers.” His manner was jerky +and nervous. He was already turning over +the volumes on the table. “We have business +of some importance to the club before +us this morning—the election <span class="lock">of—”</span></p> + +<p>He stopped short as a native waiter approached +with a tray. The doctor apparently +shared the taste of Sir John in morning beverages; +Mr Bassett drank iced barley-water +with a slice of lemon in it.</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes,” said Sir John as the waiter +retired. “Mr Bassett is right; business of +very serious importance. We must be getting +on. I will ask Mr Bassett to read the minutes +of the last meeting.”</p> + +<p>Mr Bassett jerked rapidly through the data +of the meeting and the names of the committee-men +who attended. In addition to +the names of those now present the name of the +Rev. Cyril Mast was read.</p> + +<p>Dr Soames Pryce took his mouth away<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +from a drinking-straw to observe, “Mast not +coming to-day?”</p> + +<p>“I shall have something to say presently +as to that,” said Sir John.</p> + +<p>“Myself also,” said Mr Bassett, and went +on with the minutes in a quick staccato.</p> + +<p>There were certain financial matters “examined +and found correct.” There was a +history of two backed bills; in one case the +secretary would write and express regrets; +in the other the committee had found that the +price charged for giant asparagus was not unreasonable.</p> + +<p>Sir John took the formal vote that he should +sign the minutes as correct, and proceeded to +routine business. Financial questions were +considered with care, and were a little complicated +by the use of more than one currency. +The club was in a very satisfactory position. +It had only thirty-two members, but the +subscription was high and the expenses were +small.</p> + +<p>At last came the important business. Sir +John opened the candidates’ book and spoke +with a voice of deliberate impartiality:</p> + +<p>“Gentlemen, we have a candidate up for +election. He is a native of this island, known<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +to us all, I think, as King Smith. I see that +he is described here as John Smith, trader and +chief of Faloo. He is proposed by Mr Page +and seconded by the Rev. Cyril Mast. He is +supported by Mr Bassett, Mr Mandelbaum, +Mr Duncombe, Mr Clarence Mills, and Lord +Charles Baringstoke—under ordinary circumstances, +I should say a strong list. Before +proceeding to discussion I will ask our secretary +to read the letters of the proposer and the +seconder.”</p> + +<p>The letters were unusually long and apologetic, +but this was the first time that a native +had been proposed for membership of the +Exiles’ Club.</p> + +<p>Mr Page, in his letter, pointed out that this +was no ordinary native. He was of the blood +royal, and was recognised by all the natives +as chief or King of Faloo. It was to be remembered +that certainly in the old days and in a +neighbouring group of the islands white men +had not thought it beneath their dignity to take +positions—and even subordinate positions—at +the court of native kings and queens.</p> + +<p>Dr Soames Pryce gave a short contemptuous +laugh; Mr Bassett glared at him out of +mean eyes and continued the letter.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr Page pointed out further that Smith had +shown a readiness to absorb European ideas +which was without parallel in the case of +a native. His business, in which a syndicate +of members of the club were financially interested, +was solid and progressive. He had +shown enterprise and talent for organisation. +He spoke French well and English to perfection. +He had been of great assistance to the +white men on the island. “And of his wide +and generous hospitality most of us have had +pleasant experience.”</p> + +<p>“Good letter,” commented the doctor, +briefly.</p> + +<p>The letter of the Rev. Cyril Mast repeated +much that Mr Page had said, but contained +some additional items of information. As regards +the name of John Smith, Smith was merely +the Anglicised form of its owner’s native name.</p> + +<p>The doctor’s laugh was perhaps excusable. +The native name was of four syllables, began +with “m,” ended with “oo,” and had a “k” +in it. The laugh was repeated when the Rev. +Cyril Mast asserted that Smith had received +the name John upon baptism into the Church +of England, performed during boyhood when +on a visit to another island.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Name,” said the doctor.</p> + +<p>“Order,” said Sir John. “We can discuss +the letter afterwards.”</p> + +<p>“I presume,” said Mr Bassett, savagely, +“that Dr Pryce does not venture to question +the veracity of a member of the club.”</p> + +<p>“Rot,” said the doctor.</p> + +<p>“Order, order,” said Sir John. “Read on, +please, Mr Bassett.”</p> + +<p>He read on. The Rev. Cyril Mast pointed +out that King Smith’s attitude in religious +matters was one of the broadest toleration, +as exemplified by the fact that he permitted +the French Catholic mission on his island. He +had lessened the superstitious observances +of the natives, had deported the priests, and +now held solely in his own person the important +power of “taboo.” In view of labour difficulties +and other difficulties with the natives +it was imperatively necessary to conciliate the +possessor of this power. It was hardly too +much to say that their existence depended +upon it. It would be necessary to elect King +Smith, “even if he were not the genial, open-handed +sportsman whom we all know him to +be.”</p> + +<p>There was a moment’s silence. It was for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +the President to speak first. Sir John spoke +with ease and fluency. He had addressed +many meetings, and soothed for the time many +angry shareholders.</p> + +<p>“Well, gentlemen,” said Sir John, “Mr +Smith comes before you under very good +auspices. He is seconded by one member of +the committee and underwritten by another. +Among his supporters we have noted the names +of Lord Charles Baringstoke and—er—others. +But it must be remarked that his seconder is +not here this morning to speak for him. Why +is he not here?”</p> + +<p>“He was so very drunk last night,” said Dr +Soames Pryce. There was not the least shade +of moral accusation in his voice; it was a +plain statement of a cause having a certain +effect.</p> + +<p>“Nonsense!” snapped Mr Bassett.</p> + +<p>“I assure you, my diagnosis is correct.”</p> + +<p>“Gentlemen!” said Sir John, in mild +protest. Both men apologised to the President +for the interruption. He continued:</p> + +<p>“From whatever cause it arises it is at +least unfortunate that Mr Mast is not here; +there are questions that I should have felt +it my duty, unpleasant though it might be,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +to put to him. However, we will leave him +and consider the candidature of Mr Smith.”</p> + +<p>Here Sir John paused to light a cigar and +refresh himself from the glass before him.</p> + +<p>“Now, gentlemen, I think if I may claim +any virtue at all it is the virtue of foresight. +When the circumstances arose which made it +advisable for me to leave England, I had +already foreseen those circumstances and I +knew that Faloo was the place. From its +want of an accessible harbour, its small size, +and its position out of the usual line of trading +and other vessels, and also perhaps from a +pardonable ignorance, Faloo has been omitted +by statesmen and their advisers from treaties +innumerable. It has independence on sufferance. +Any European power that claimed +Faloo would be met by a counter-claim from +another power, and at present it is considered +too obscure and insignificant for diplomacy, +or for sterner methods of arbitration. Briefly, +it is not worth fighting about. But I know +that you will agree with me that it is just what +we require. Life is soft and easy, and the +climate is always summer. Nature has +showered her gifts upon this island—gorgeous +flowers and luscious fruits, the graceful and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +useful palm, the orange trees in the shade of +which we sit.”</p> + +<p>“Pardon the correction,” said Dr Soames +Pryce. “The orange trees were brought by +Smith’s grandfather from Tahiti, and they +were not indigenous even there.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Dr Pryce. At least I may say +that this kindly and prolific soil has, in the +case of the orange trees as in our own case, +welcomed the stranger. The natives are +friendly—except in some cases which I can +explain—and though their natural laziness +makes it difficult to find useful and trustworthy +servants, we have managed to get +along so far by a temperate firmness on our +part. For such hostility as exists I regret to +say that certain members of this club have +only themselves to thank, and I may add in +confidence that Mr Mast is one of the worst +offenders. This—er—philandering with the +wives and daughters of natives is a thing that +must definitely be stopped or there will be +awful trouble.”</p> + +<p>Sir John paused for another sip, and surveyed +his companions. Dr Soames Pryce +looked straight down his nose; Mr Bassett +toyed innocently with a pen-holder.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Well, gentlemen, to make a long story +short, insignificant little Faloo precisely suits +me. Personally, I ask nothing better than +that I may live the rest of my life here, enjoying—if +you find some worthier <span class="lock">President—”</span></p> + +<p>“No, no,” said the other two men.</p> + +<p>“Well, enjoying at least my membership +of the Exiles’ Club. Now I do not want to +break a tacit understanding by referring to the +past history of any of us. Some may have +made mistakes, or yielded to some unfortunate +impulse; some—my own is a case in point—may +be the victims of conspiracy on the one +part and misunderstanding on another. But +in any case, if ever we had to leave Faloo, +where could we go? I know of no place from +which we should not promptly be sent back +to our native land, to be tried by some clumsy +tribunal that on half the facts of the case +judges a man’s isolated acts apart from his +motives and his general character and his +mode of life.”</p> + +<p>“Hear, hear,” said Mr Bassett.</p> + +<p>“Now comes my point. Our safety lies in +the obscurity and insignificance of Faloo. +Make it of importance—get it talked about—and +we are lost. Now Smith’s great idea is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +to boom Faloo, to extend his own trade indefinitely, +and he even has dreams of finally +getting its independence formally acknowledged. +This last he will probably never do, +because the island would be annexed, but if he +did, part of the price of independence would +be an extradition treaty. He has been described +as enterprising, and the description +is true. He even now has a plan for blasting +the reef and throwing open the harbour for +his own trading ships. He speaks often of the +loss and the danger occasioned by loading and +unloading by canoes a vessel lying outside the +reef. Well, there is only room for a canoe +or a small boat to get through the reef now, +and there will never be any more room, so long +as we have the whip-hand of Mr Smith. His +interests and ours are diametrically opposed. +How can we admit such a man to terms of +perfect equality as would be implied by membership +of this club? Why should he ask it +except as a means to push his schemes with +injudicious members, lured by the prospect of +a money advantage? What would it profit us, +gentlemen, if we gained all the money in the +world and lost—er—this quiet retreat from the +malicious people who are anxious to interfere<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +with us? Believe me, he has no love for +the white man. If he permits the French +Mission it is because the French Mission is a +regular and lucrative customer and the priests +help to educate him. He is genial and hospitable; +but we also are regular and lucrative +customers and much more than that. He +has been of service to us; two or three times +he has sent off, with almost needless brutality, +low-class English and Americans, without a +five-pound note to call their own, who have +attempted to establish themselves here. He +serves us, because we do not want that type. +But he serves himself too, for they are no use +to him either. I have known Smith longer +than any white man on this island, and I know +that extension of trade and the making of +money is his first aim. He’d like a regular +trading fleet instead of the ramshackle tramps +he owns at present. When I came here he +lived in a leaf-thatched shanty and had hardly +anything. See how far he has got on already; +he means to go twenty times as far as that. +And when he’s got the money he’s on to +something else—he doesn’t talk about it, and +I don’t know much about it, but I do know +that it will be something with King Smith in it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +and ourselves outside. Now at present we’ve +got the whip-hand of that gentleman, and +we’ve got to keep it. We’ve got the whip-hand, +because the money on which his business +is run is our money and under our own control. +I have put seven hundred golden sovereigns +into it, Dr Pryce has two hundred, Mr Bassett +two hundred, and other members have smaller +sums, making fifteen hundred in all. From the +very beginning I took the line that (in the +absence of ordinary legal safeguards) the +borrower must trust the lender and the lender +must trust nobody. We see such books as he +keeps; we practically control the bank. We +know what he’s doing. We can say ‘go on’ +and we can say ‘stop.’ Smith controls the +natives? He does. He can enforce the +‘taboo’? He can. And what on earth does +it matter so long as we control Smith? It’s +money that talks. And that reminds me +that I’ve been doing a lot of talking myself, +though I’ve still got one more point to raise. +You don’t mind?”</p> + +<p>“I want to hear everything you’ve got +against Smith; it’ll help me to show the other +side,” said Mr Bassett.</p> + +<p>“My own mind is still open,” said Dr<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +Soames Pryce. “Let me hear you both by +all means. At present it doesn’t seem to me +to matter a curse whether we elect him or not. +But might I suggest an interlude?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” said Sir John. “The same +idea had just occurred to me.” He struck +the bell repeatedly, until Thomas appeared +on the verandah. A sign gave the order, and +fresh drinks were brought out.</p> + +<p>“Now for my last point,” said Sir John. +“England has not treated me well, and it +would probably treat me worse if it could get +me, but I can never forget that I am an +Englishman. We white men here”—his +voice vibrated—“are the representatives of +the conquering races.”</p> + +<p>Dr Soames Pryce concealed a smile.</p> + +<p>“We have a certain amount of prestige +among the natives, and we cannot give away +prestige and keep it. Our action in electing +Mr Smith would be read by the natives as a +concession made from fear. He would be +exalted, and we should be debased. A rule +of the club prohibits the introduction of any +native as a guest; I have not the least doubt +that the election of a native would also have +been prohibited, had it ever been supposed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +that such an event was possible. Let us treat +Mr Smith with kindness and civility. He likes +to exercise hospitality, and I sometimes look +in at his place and take a drink with him. +But we must not elect him as an equal. If +you two gentlemen are divided in your opinions +my casting vote goes against Mr Smith.”</p> + +<p>Sir John leaned back in his chair, removed +his hat and mopped his bald head with his +handkerchief. He was convinced that the +election of Smith would be disastrous, and he +had done his best to prevent it. Bassett, he +knew, would support Smith, but Sir John +counted on opposition from the doctor.</p> + +<p>“Well, now, Mr Bassett,” said Sir John.</p> + +<p>But Mr Bassett suddenly adopted a conciliatory +and even flattering attitude towards +Dr Soames Pryce.</p> + +<p>“Excuse me,” he said. “Better take +things in their order of importance. Dr +Pryce—most popular and representative—better +hear him first.”</p> + +<p>“My mind’s still open,” said Dr Pryce. +“Sir John’s been talking rather as if the +Exiles’ Club were the Athenæum and King +Smith were a doubtful archdeacon. We aren’t +the Athenæum. We represent the dead-beat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +section of the conquering races. As we have +referred to the past I may mention that we +comprise men who have had to skip and can’t +go back.”</p> + +<p>“A little too strongly put,” said Sir +John.</p> + +<p>“I’m only saying what you’ve been thinking,” +said Dr Pryce. “Poor old Thomas +messed his accounts at the Cabinet Club and he +had to skip, and it’s supposed to be the same +all the way up through the members. All we +ask about a white candidate is how much he +brought with him or can have sent out to him. +If he can afford it he’s a member. Our rules +are easy, but we don’t change members’ +cheques, and it’s a recognised principle with us +that we believe in the money we see and in no +other money. If the cash isn’t on the table +there’s no bet. That being so, ought we to +put on side? Can we carry it?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly not. Hear hear!” said Mr +Bassett with enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>“Sir John says we’ve got the whip-hand of +King Smith now. True. So we have. So +we shall still have if he’s made a member. +Sir John thinks that if Smith opens the harbour +and widens the trade the island will be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +grabbed and we shall be grabbed too. I should +say rats!”</p> + +<p>“Really?” said Sir John, frigidly.</p> + +<p>“I mean, with all respect, that there’s +not enough in Faloo to make any power restless +in its sleep—except ourselves, and it is not +likely to be known that we are here. As for +Smith himself, he’s a clever blackguard, but +I doubt if he’s as deep as our President thinks. +There are good streaks about him. The +natives get none of the filth that he brews in +the still at the back of his office—that’s traded +away under the rose to other islands. He’s +got an open hand, and keeps good whisky, +and what persuaded our reverend friend Mast +to get tight on curaçoa last night beats me +altogether. What I don’t like is that while +his business is financed by some of us he’s +lending money out of his share of the profits +to others. Three of the men who underwrote +him have got an advance on their remittances +from him—Charley Baringstoke’s one of them. +That might make awkwardness. He’s playing +it all out for John Smith too, as our +President says. Well, I’m playing it for Dr +Pryce. If Bassett isn’t playing it for a man +whose name begins with B I’m wrong.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +Fire in, Bassett. As I say, my mind’s still +open.”</p> + +<p>Mr Bassett spoke briefly and nervously, +with a sickly, ingratiating smile, fingering at +times that uncomely fringe of beard. He was +sure that Sir John had presented the arguments +on his side of the question with great +skill and power. But he must confess that he +thought the greater part of those arguments +had already been fully answered in a few +sentences by Dr Pryce. As for the absence +of the Rev. Cyril Mast, that was really due +to delicacy and good feeling; he had felt that +the discussion of a candidate whom he had +seconded could be more free and open in the +seconder’s absence. That being so, Mast +might possibly have felt free to indulge last +night in the—er—lapse which Dr Pryce had +described. Certainly, the money-lending to +which Dr Pryce had objected was a serious +point. But he believed that Mr Smith +had only given way from good-nature, +only in a few cases, and only for small +sums. He would guarantee that an expression +of opinion would be enough to stop +it. There was one matter with which Dr +Pryce had not dealt, and that was the native<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +question. Here Mr Bassett became very +impressive.</p> + +<p>“It’s not foreign powers and extradition +treaties we’ve got to fear. If John Smith +wants to blast the reef, and can give us +twenty per cent. for our money instead of ten, +let him do it, and I’ve got more money waiting +for him. But we’ve got to fear the natives +of this island here and now.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose it’s necessary for you to be in a +funk of something,” said Mr Soames Pryce.</p> + +<p>“Order,” said Sir John. “Really, that’s +rather an insulting remark.”</p> + +<p>“Sorry. I withdraw it,” said Pryce, +placidly.</p> + +<p>“Sir John himself said that unless this—er—interference +with the native women were +stopped there would be awful trouble. Mr +Mast’s name has been mentioned. Two +nights ago, as he was coming home from +Smith’s, a spear went too near him to be +pleasant. Doesn’t that mean something to +fear? Let me ask Dr Pryce if he were managing +an insurance office if he would accept +Mast’s life?”</p> + +<p>“If I were the physician he’d never get as +far as the manager,” said the doctor, grimly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Mast’s is not the only case. Mr Mandelbaum +has had stones thrown at him. Lord +Charles Baringstoke has been threatened. +Natives have been found skulking round the +club-house at night. Sir John says that this—er—philandering +must be stopped absolutely. +But nature is stronger than Sir John; the +women are said to be attractive, and young +men won’t live ascetic lives. Even if it could +be stopped now, much of the harm is done +already. The election of Mr Smith would +bring the natives round again, and in the +meantime something could be done to regularise +the situation—some form of marriage +which would satisfy native susceptibilities +without imposing too onerous an obligation +upon us. The help of Mr Smith in a matter of +the kind would be invaluable. If we refuse +to elect him the natives will get to hear of it—they +get to hear of everything—and we +stand a good chance of being burned in our +beds. I don’t say we might elect Mr Smith—I +say that for our own safety we must elect him.”</p> + +<p>As Mr Bassett finished there was a sound a +little like distant applause; it was merely the +club parrot stropping his beak on his perch +with furious energy.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> + +<p>“We will proceed to vote, gentlemen,” said +Sir John. “You know which way my casting +vote will go if there is any difference of +opinion between you.”</p> + +<p>“You damned thief!” screamed the parrot.</p> + +<p>“I shall certainly vote that Mr Smith be +elected,” said Mr Bassett.</p> + +<p>“You damned thief!” screamed the parrot +again.</p> + +<p>“Well, I’m quite decided now,” said Dr +Pryce.</p> + +<p>“You damned thief!” shrieked the parrot +once more. Sir John banged the bell again +and again.</p> + +<p>“Thomas!” he shouted, “take that infernal +bird inside. We can’t hear ourselves +speak. Now,” he added more suavely, “we +are ready for your vote, Dr Pryce, and the +election turns on it.”</p> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + + +<p>Mr Bassett had made the commonest +mistake of political speakers; he +had supposed that the argument which appealed +most strongly to himself would appeal +most strongly to his audience. He had +appealed to fear. Dr Soames Pryce was not +a timid man, and he resented what he regarded +as an attempt to scare him.</p> + +<p>“I vote against the election of Mr Smith +to this club,” said Dr Pryce, bluntly.</p> + +<p>“After all you have said?” exclaimed Mr +Bassett. “You surprise me very much.”</p> + +<p>“One moment, Mr Bassett,” said the +President. “I must declare then that Mr +John Smith is not elected.”</p> + +<p>Mr Bassett paused with the pen in his +hand. “Am I to write ‘not elected,’ gentlemen? +We have all admitted that Smith is +a good, hospitable fellow, and we have business +dealings with him. We might let him down +as easily as possible. May I write ‘postponed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +for further consideration’? It commits us +to nothing, and it’s not quite so harsh.”</p> + +<p>“I see no objection to that,” said Sir John. +“What do you think, doctor?”</p> + +<p>“No objection,” said Dr Soames Pryce +with a yawn.</p> + +<p>“Then,” said Sir John, as he rose, “I think +that concludes our business.”</p> + +<p>The head-gardener and his two assistants +made an incautious appearance, and were at +once commanded to carry the club-books +within to the secretary’s room. Mr Bassett +said he supposed he ought to go and see how +poor Cyril Mast was getting on after last +night.</p> + +<p>Dr Soames Pryce watched Bassett’s little +figure under the big hat retreating down the +avenue.</p> + +<p>“Nice specimen of Pusillanimus Ambulans, +or the Walking Toadstool,” said Dr Pryce. +“What’s next, Sweetling? I don’t mind +backing my green lizard against the clock.”</p> + +<p>“Silly game, very silly,” said Sir John. +“Still, I may as well lose four half-crowns at +that as anything else. And”—he glanced +at his elaborate presentation watch—“there’s +still half an hour before lunch.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p> + +<p>The course for lizard-racing had been +designed and laid out by Dr Pryce in the +courtyard on the further side of the club. +The course was circular, and the boards on +either side sloped inwards so that the lizards +should not climb them. A lizard attempting +escape would go straight ahead by the only +path open to it, round and round the circle. +That was the rule, but there were various +exceptions.</p> + +<p>Dr Pryce produced the box of plaited grass +in which his lizard was kept, and turned it +out on to the course. It made an ineffectual +attempt to climb the side, and then went +straight away, looking rather like a clever +clockwork toy.</p> + +<p>“Lay you ten shillings it doesn’t go round +in thirty-six seconds,” said Sir John.</p> + +<p>“Thirty-four’s record. Not good enough. +I’ll back him to do two rounds in seventy-five +for the same money.”</p> + +<p>“Done. Start the watch.”</p> + +<p>Both men put down their money and kept +one eye on the stop-watch and one on the +starting-point. The lizard was round in 35.5 +and going strongly. A few feet further on it +paused as if it were saying to itself, “Let’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +see—where did I put my umbrella?” Then +it turned right round and went back, presumably, +to fetch it.</p> + +<p>“Damn,” said Dr Pryce, and put the +lizard tenderly back in its box again.</p> + +<p>Sir John laughed and slipped the two half-sovereigns +into his waistcoat pocket. “Want +another?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“No thanks,” said the doctor. “My +beast’s got into one of his absent-minded +moods. He’s like that sometimes. He might +beat the record, or he might go to sleep in the +first patch of sunshine.”</p> + +<p>The club was beginning to fill up now. In +the reading-room two or three members +turned over the out-of-date papers—but there +is really no date in Faloo. Little groups on +the lawn in front of the house sipped cocktails. +Lord Charles Baringstoke went from group to +group with his usual plaintive, “Anybody +goin’ to stand me anythin’?” Thomas was +fixing the <i>carte du jour</i> in the frame over the +dining-room mantelpiece; the fireplace was +filled with pot-roses in bloom, had never known +a fire, and did not possess a chimney. Two +other English waiters and many native +servants bustled to and fro.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> + +<p>Sir John and Dr Pryce took their Manhattans +on the verandah. “Do you know,” said Sir +John, “I almost thought you were going to +elect King Smith this morning.”</p> + +<p>“So did I,” said the doctor. “Believe we +ought to have done it too. He’s better than +that worm Charley Baringstoke, or a boozer +like Cyril Mast, or a mean badger like Bassett. +Better than most of us, in fact. It was Bassett +put me off it.”</p> + +<p>“So I noticed,” said Sir John.</p> + +<p>“Interesting man too,” said Dr Pryce. +“Has he really got these ideas—the ambitious +poppycock that you talked about?”</p> + +<p>“If he had, would you let him make a start +with them?” asked Sir John, enigmatically.</p> + +<p>“I would not,” said the doctor.</p> + +<p>“I think you’re the man I want. We’ll +talk about it at luncheon. Our curry should +be ready by now.”</p> + +<p>The meal was called luncheon, but for all +classes on the island luncheon was the +principal meal of the day; in fact, no regular +club-dinner was served in the evening. Most +of the members were gathered in the dining-room +now, but a small table had been reserved +for the President and Dr Soames Pryce. At<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +the next table Mr Mandelbaum, a round-faced +German of great girth, was entertaining +Lord Charles Baringstoke, who under alcoholic +influence was being betrayed into confidences. +“You see,” he whined loudly, “it wasn’t +so much that I went a mucker, because of +course all my people went muckers; it was +the particular kind of mucker that I went.” +The German passed a fat hand over his salient +moustache and addressed him as “my poor +frent.”</p> + +<p>Sir John and the doctor conducted their +conversation in more discreet tones.</p> + +<p>“Do you think,” said Sir John, “that the +King really meant to be elected to-day? Did +he sound you?”</p> + +<p>“He’s not on those terms,” said Pryce.</p> + +<p>“He could have made a certainty of it if +he had not let Cyril Mast get drunk last night +and had sent him up to the scratch this +morning. He could have done that. It +would have been Mast and Bassett against +you, and my casting vote would not have +come in.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps he took things too easily. But +why should he get himself put up?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’ll tell you my views. It was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +move to blind you and others—to make you +think that he hankered for nothing but the +joys of European civilisation and the society +of white men. His genial manner and his +free hospitality are a blind of the same nature. +The man’s native through and through, soul +and body. He is playing the game for his +own natives, with himself at the head of them—as +he is indeed to-day—but in a position of +much greater power and dignity.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t say it isn’t so,” said Pryce. “But +what do you build on?”</p> + +<p>“Several things. I’ve known Smith a long +time, and I’ve only once known him miss a +trade opportunity. He won’t sell liquor to +his own natives. He won’t let them get it. +The stills and liquor-stores are taboo. He’s +after money, but he won’t do that. You’ve +noticed it yourself. About two months ago +I was going along by the beach one night, and +I turned into Smith’s place for a drink. He +was alone in his office, sitting at a table, with +his back to me, and working on some papers. +“Hullo, Cyril,” he said, without looking +round. Evidently he was expecting Mast. +There was a tin trunk open on the floor, and +it was packed with blue-books and pamphlets—things<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +of that kind. I went up to him and +touched him on the shoulder. I don’t think +he was so pleased to see me as he said he was. +King Smith was studying the native depopulation +statistics in the different groups, and +making notes on them. King Smith had +got old dailies and weekly reviews—radical +rags—with passages marked in blue chalk, +spread before him. I tried to see more, but +he was very quick—shovelled them all together, +threw them into the tin trunk, and kicked the +lid down. He said that he had been reading +some dull stuff, and then out came the whisky, +of course.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder now if he’d have any chance. +I think he might.”</p> + +<p>“Given that he had the money, and that +he could get into touch with English publicists—journalists +or politicians of a certain kind—I +think he’d have a very good chance at first. +Of course all traces of his liquor business would +be traded off or sunk in the Pacific by then. +The Little-Englanders and sentimental radicals +would back him to a man. It would be +shown that he had governed well, kept +the natives sober, and was fighting for +admitted independence to keep them from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +the dangerous influences of white civilisation.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Pryce, “they are undoubtedly +dangerous—for natives.”</p> + +<p>“There are depopulation statistics to prove +it. The fact that he handed us all over to +what they are pleased to call justice would +count in his favour. His patriotic attitude +would appeal. The fact that the island is +too small to matter, and that no expense was +involved, would help. If he caught the +country in the right temper, with nothing of +real importance to distract its attention, the +<cite>Chronicle</cite> and <cite>News</cite> would scream ‘Faloo for +its own people!’ for a while. In the end it +would be protection—French or British—but +that doesn’t matter a straw to us. We should +be done. Look here, doctor, I’ve made one +mistake in my life and I can’t afford to make +another. Whether Smith’s ideas are exactly +what I say or not, he is trying to do things +which will attract attention. We can’t let +him start.”</p> + +<p>“That is so,” said Pryce. “And how do +we stop him? Money comes first, I suppose?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly. I’ve already been into that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +point. Smith must never be much richer than +he is now; if he goes on with this money-lending, +he must be rather poorer. Of course, +Bassett can see nothing but twenty per cent. +instead of ten, and some of the other members +are like him, but I think we can do without a +dividend for a year or two if necessary. +There’s no need to show our hand. We can’t +adopt deliberately a thwarting policy. But +I have an idea that when Smith begins to be +too prosperous he will lose a schooner with a +valuable cargo. A store or two may be +burned down. Some new line of business, +which has been suggested by his English +friends, is likely to be a financial loss. The +second point is that he must not get into +touch with the people who can help him—publicists. +It would not be healthy for us to +have much written about Faloo in the London +papers. Well, he can’t get away himself—his +trade and the natives tie him by the leg. +There’s no telephone or telegraph here—thank +Heaven!—and our mail arrives and leaves +irregularly in one of his own schooners, which +has to go hundreds of miles with it. I fancy +that if you chose to go a cruise in that schooner +something might happen to any letters it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +carried which were not to the general interest. +You could manage that?”</p> + +<p>“Pleasure—at any time.”</p> + +<p>“I may ask you to do it.”</p> + +<p>“Look here, Sweetling, that’s all right, of +course. But I fancy you’re looking so far +ahead that you’re missing the next step. The +row with the natives about their women is the +next step. And although there’s no need to +get into blue funk about it, like Bassett, it +may very easily be the last step too.”</p> + +<p>“I know,” said Sir John. “I’m going to +speak to some of the men about it. I wish +you’d tackle Cyril Mast.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Dr Pryce, “it’s rather difficult. +You see, I’m not exactly qualified for—er—er—stained-glass +treatment myself, and Mast +knows it. For that matter, I could tell you +a true story about the amiable Bassett. However, +I’ll advise discretion—if they’d only +remember that all the native women don’t +come into the same category it would be all +right. By the way, you were rather down on +Cyril Mast.”</p> + +<p>“The man’s a human sink.”</p> + +<p>“There are times when that describes him. +There are also times when he’d shock Naples<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +and make Port Said blush. There is no act of +madness which he might not possibly commit. +But he has his moments. I’ll try to find him +in a lucid interval. Good Lord! I wonder why +King Smith doesn’t give the natives their head +and wipe the island clean of the whole lot of +us.”</p> + +<p>“Excellent prudential reasons. Smith +banks—has been compelled to bank by those +who financed him. His cheques require the +signatures of two Englishmen as well as his +own. It is awkward at times to have a bank +so far away, but I thought it advisable that +the money should not be kept here.”</p> + +<p>“That’s all right,” said the doctor, rising +from the table. “I’ve got a native with +pneumonia down on the beach. I’ll go and +look at him.”</p> + +<p>“Half a moment,” said Sir John. “Last +time a schooner came in, two piano-cases were +brought ashore. I’ve looked round, and the +only piano in the island is in Smith’s big concrete +house, where he never lives, and that +piano was there ages before. Pianos? Guns, +my boy. Smith’s keeping the natives in +check for all he’s worth. It’s his best policy. +But if it does come to an outbreak, you’ll find<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +the natives armed and Smith leading them. +You can tell Mast that. If Smith gets into a +position where he finds his hand forced, and +it’s a question of the white man or the native, +he’ll throw over his trade and his ambitions, +wipe out the white men, and chance it. Now, +haven’t I seen the next step? Pryce, I watch +everything. I can’t afford to make another +mistake.”</p> + +<p>“An almighty row—a big fight—and then +wiped out, as you say,” said Pryce, meditatively. +“One might do worse.”</p> + +<p>“Possibly. All the same, I’m going to +spend this afternoon in frightening the life +out of Parker and Simmons and Mandelbaum +and Lord Charles Baringstoke. I +leave it to you to make Cyril Mast ashamed +of himself.”</p> + +<p>“He’s always that,” said Pryce, as he turned +away.</p> + +<p>Mr Bassett had said that he was going to +see Cyril Mast; therefore it was quite certain +that he was going elsewhere. He had taken +luncheon with King Smith, had eaten baked +fishes with the eternal cokernut cream sauce +and a conserve of guavas which was one of the +King’s trade-items. He had drunk with great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +moderation of an excellent hock and iced +water.</p> + +<p>Three sides of a square on the beach were +occupied by the King’s stores and office, with +some living-rooms attached. The styles of +building were various. There was concrete, +dazzlingly white in the sun. There was +timber. There was corrugated iron. There +were shanties built in the native fashion—poles +planted close together for the walls, and +a leaf thatch for the roof. The King had a +fine concrete house with an excellent garden +in the interior, but he rarely visited it.</p> + +<p>Luncheon had been served by native boys +in one of the living-rooms. The King now +smoked a Havannah and sipped coffee which +he himself had grown. There was surprisingly +little that was native in his appearance. He +wore a white flannel shirt, white duck trousers, +and white canvas shoes, all of spotless cleanliness. +His tint was very light. He had none +of the native’s love for personal decoration with +flowers and necklaces. His eyes were not like +a native’s. They had not that sleeping gentleness, +and were the eyes of a master among men. +No native would have worn those shoes. The +natives went barefoot as a rule, torturing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +themselves with squeaking boots on state +occasions or as a concession to the French +missionaries. But the King had all the +native’s inborn grace of movement, and he +wore his hair rather longer than a European’s. +He looked at Bassett with that slightly cynical +air of a man who has gauged another man completely, +will use him to the utmost, and will +not trust him quite as far as he could throw +him. Bassett had removed his big hat, and +his indecent baldness shone with perspiration; +it gave something of the appearance of the +vulture to a head which otherwise suggested +the ape.</p> + +<p>“All I can say is that I did my best,” said +Bassett, plaintively. “It nearly came off. +Dr Soames Pryce had seemed all in your +favour, and then just when it came to the +voting, he went right round.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” said Smith. His voice was pleasing +and his pronunciation was perfect. “And +was that just after you had spoken?”</p> + +<p>“It was,” said Bassett, “and that’s what +makes it so surprising.” The King smiled. +“We ought to have had Mast there. I said +so.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well, my friend,” said King Smith,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +“you did your best and who can do more? +Perhaps, when Sir John and the doctor have +got to trust me a little more, I may be elected. +If they do not think I am yet fit for the high +honour of membership, I must wait. It is +bad to force oneself. I can wait very well. +There was a time when every inch of this island +belonged to my forefathers; but I must remember +that I own comparatively little myself. +I am a king by direct descent; but I +must not forget that I am a poor trader far +more than I am a king. I owe much to the +white man. It is his money that has helped +me to develop the resources of my island. +It is to the white man that I owe my education. +Many are kind enough to come in sometimes +for a little chat with me. Further intimacy +is to be a matter of consideration—after all +it is not unnatural.”</p> + +<p>“You seem to take it smiling,” said Bassett.</p> + +<p>“My friend, you were, I think, what you +call a solicitor. That means a great education. +I often look at you with envy when I think of +the vast number of things that you must know +and I do not, and of the things that would be +easy for you to arrange and are so difficult for +me. But if I might venture to give one little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +piece of advice, it is this—always take a defeat +smiling and a triumph seriously. Ah, you +must take that as a joke. I cannot tell you +anything you do not know.”</p> + +<p>“It’s true enough that to be a solicitor one +must pass very severe tests,” said Bassett. +“And every day of practice in a good firm +means a lesson in knowledge of the world.” +He was quite unused to flattery, and was ready +to take a good deal of it.</p> + +<p>“My friend,” said the King, “you do not +drink my cognac, and it is too good to miss. +Alone I would not have got it. It comes to +me by favour of the padre.”</p> + +<p>Bassett, who knew his physiological limitations, +hesitated, filled his glass and sipped. +He expressed an opinion that the French +missionaries knew how to take care of themselves.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” Bassett continued. “As a solicitor +I met with all kinds of men. I can generally +make an estimate. I have my doubts about +Dr Soames Pryce. I have raced lizards +against him; doctors know drugs and can use +them.”</p> + +<p>The suggestion was too preposterous, and +the King’s laughter was both hearty and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +natural. “But I think not. It is unlikely,” +he said. “The doctor is not in any want of +money, and he does not risk his position here +with all of you for a little piece of ten shillings. I +do not know much, and so I have to guess a good +deal. I should guess that it was no question of +money that sent Dr Soames Pryce to Faloo.”</p> + +<p>King Smith watched his guest with a critical +eye. It was not generally advisable to speak +of the past in Faloo. Lord Charles Baringstoke +was quite shameless, and the Rev. Cyril +Mast was occasionally maudlin, and these two +had chattered about themselves, but members +of the Exiles’ Club were mostly discreet and +reserved as to their personal histories.</p> + +<p>“Wasn’t it money?” said Bassett, peevishly. +“No. Perhaps not. Perhaps it was something +worse—something which could not be +misunderstood.”</p> + +<p>“Then these money troubles in your +country—the sort of troubles that have decided +some of you to leave it—may possibly +be only due to misunderstanding.”</p> + +<p>“That and other things. You see, you +don’t know about these matters.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said the King, regretfully, “I do not +know that great world in which you moved.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Well, see here,” said Bassett a little +excitedly. “Suppose there is a sum of money—a +hundred pounds or a thousand, any sum +you like. You know as a business man that +if you were asked for that sum one day you +might be unable to find it—though you would +be able to get it if you were given time.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I see that.”</p> + +<p>“I had money belonging to clients—ladies +of course. They were very impatient, and +consulted another solicitor, a jealous rival. +The money was being employed by me in a +way that would ultimately, if I had been left +alone, have benefited those clients. It was +not immediately available, and delicate +financial operations do not admit of clumsy +interference. The result was disastrous. I—I +gave up and came here.”</p> + +<p>“It is wonderful that you knew of this little +island.”</p> + +<p>“I had heard of it—two men that I knew +had already gone out.”</p> + +<p>“Your clients—they were not all ladies?” +said the King, as he refilled Bassett’s glass +“I suppose traders like myself consulted you—clergymen +too, perhaps.”</p> + +<p>“There are no traders like you in England,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +said Bassett. “But men of the highest +business standing consulted me. Lechworthy +now—I’ve lunched with him often. A Cabinet +Minister was one of my clients. I tell you, I’d +some of the very top. I daresay you never +heard of the great libel action against the <cite>Daily +Message</cite>—well, I acted for the <cite>Message</cite>.”</p> + +<p>King Smith had listened very attentively. +“That must make a difference,” he said.</p> + +<p>“How?”</p> + +<p>“Men like that would be superior to a +vulgar misunderstanding. They would see, +as I do, that it was a mistake—that you had +acted for the best—that your probity was not +in question. It must be pleasant for you here +when the mail comes in—friendly letters from +Mr Lechworthy, who manufactures the leather +goods—letters still showing his gratitude from +the editor of the <cite>Daily Message</cite>, or p<span class="lock">erhaps—”</span></p> + +<p>“You don’t know anything, my boy,” said +Bassett. He was slightly flushed, his voice +was raised, and his manner was more familiar. +“The editor of the <cite>Daily Message</cite> indeed! +That case cost his proprietor close on fifty +thousand. You make me laugh. No, when +a man in England goes under, nobody goes +down to look for him. Lechworthy, with all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +his piety, was as hot as anyone against me. +The only letters I get are from my old mother, +and they’re no use.”</p> + +<p>It was not then through Mr Bassett’s personal +connections that King Smith would be +able to get into touch with the right people for +the scheme which he had in view. Cyril Mast +and Lord Charles had also boasted an influential +acquaintance, and in their case, too, the +thread had been snapped. The King was not +disappointed. He had found out what he +wished to know, and he had no further use +at the moment for Mr Bassett.</p> + +<p>The King rose. “I must go back to my +work,” he said. “Stay here and drink if you +like.”</p> + +<p>But Bassett also rose. “I have drunk +enough,” he said as he peered at his face in a +scrap of mirror on the wall. He wondered +vaguely if he had been talking too much. He +tried to think of something complimentary +to say. “I—I respect the way you work,” +was his effort; and then certain fears recurred +to his mind. “I say, is it all right about the +native women?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said the King, “it is not all right. +But there will be no serious trouble yet, unless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +further cause is given. I have been busy +about it this morning.”</p> + +<p>“Awfully good of you,” said Bassett. +“You’re a sort of protection to the white men +here. I say, you ought to have been elected, +you know.”</p> + +<p>“Remember that there may come a time +when I cannot protect. The natives here +are not much spoiled. This is not Papeete.”</p> + +<p>“That’s what I’m always saying to our +chaps.”</p> + +<p>“Say it also to yourself, my friend. I had a +man here this morning who wished to kill you. +No, he will not do it. Now I must go.”</p> + +<p>It was a very sobered Bassett that skulked +back along the beach to the club-house. He +jumped perceptibly when a land-crab rattled +an old meat-tin on the stones. At the club +it seemed to him that most of the men were +sulky and bad-tempered. Some slept on the +verandah. The German and Lord Charles +Baringstoke bent over an interminable game +of chess. Lord Charles looked up as Bassett +passed.</p> + +<p>“I say, Mr damned Bassett,” said Lord +Charles, “why didn’t you elect Smith?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, go to the devil!” said Bassett,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +irritably, and went on to his own room. He +was angry with himself, and a man in that case +is always angry with the rest of the world.</p> + +<p>King Smith went on with his work, assiduously +as a London clerk under the eye of the +senior partner. It was near sunset when he +came out on to the beach.</p> + +<p>Down by the water’s edge stood the Rev. +Cyril Mast. He was quite a young man, and +his face was that of a dissipated boy. At +present he was looking out through glasses +that he could not hold quite steady.</p> + +<p>“You look at nothing,” laughed Smith.</p> + +<p>“See for yourself,” said Mast, in a musical, +resonant voice. “Your schooner will be in +before you expected her.”</p> + +<p>King Smith took the glasses and levelled +them at the little speck on the horizon.</p> + +<p>“It is a schooner, but not mine,” he said. +“A chance trader perhaps. Mine can’t be +here for three days. That one can’t get here +to-night. To-morrow morning we shall see. +And how do you feel to-night, Cyril?”</p> + +<p>“As I deserve to feel, I suppose. I am bad +company to-night. You are the first person +to whom I have spoken to-day, and I have +neither eaten nor drunk.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Poor devil, come up and have a drink +now.”</p> + +<p>“No, thanks. I’m going for a swim.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t recommend it,” said the King.</p> + +<p>“The sharks are welcome,” said Mast.</p> + +<p>The sun set. Light streamed out from +native-built houses. In all directions one +heard the sound of singing. It mingled with +the lap and fret of wavelets on the shore. +Mast swam out and back again in safety. As +he walked along the beach a native girl called +to him. She stood in the light of one of the +houses, a flower of scarlet hibiscus behind her +ear; her white teeth shone as she smiled.</p> + +<p>One by one the lights of the houses went out. +The sky became gemmed with many stars. +Faloo was asleep. The King had put aside +for a while his problem—how to get in touch +with an Englishman who could help him.</p> + +<p>In the schooner that he had sighted there +was such a man, though the King did not know +it—a man of great wealth, a newspaper proprietor, +a keen politician—Mr Lechworthy, +who manufactured the leather goods. +The circumstances that brought Mr Lechworthy +to Faloo must now be recorded.</p> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + + +<p>The factories of Lechworthy & Co. +covered many acres at Setton Park, +and the large village adjoining was inhabited +almost solely by those employed in the +factories.</p> + +<p>In the factories as in the offices of Lechworthy +& Co. one found the last word of +effectiveness and enterprise. Time after time +good machinery had been scrapped to make +way for better and to meet American competition, +and the enormous outlay involved +had subsequently justified itself. Everything +connected with their business was manufactured +at Setton Park. Boxes and crates were +made there. They made every metal article +required—from the eyelets of a pair of cheap +boots to the gold fittings of the most +expensive dressing-case. They made their +own glue. They even made their own +thread.</p> + +<p>Lechworthy & Co. were good employers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +They paid fair wages, and in the treatment +of their workwomen went far beyond what +the Factory Acts required of them. Allotments, +cricket fields, libraries, recreation halls +abounded. Lechworthy & Co. had themselves +seen to it that the least paid woman in the packing +or lining departments could obtain an abundant +supply of pure milk for her babies at a price +she could easily afford. The sanitation was +excellent, and the delightful air of the country—for +the tannery was at a judicious distance—made +town-workers envy their more fortunate +comrades at Lechworthy’s. Thrift was compulsory +and automatic. The man who grew +old and past work, or who broke down from +illness in the company’s service, found ample +provision made for him from funds to which +his own savings had contributed, augmented +by the company’s generosity. Such a man +need not leave Setton Park; there was a +cottage for him, and it was not called an +alms-house; medical attendance was provided +free for him. The conditions still prevailed +which were established when Lechworthy +turned his business into a Limited Company. +The ordinary investor had never been given +a chance to put a penny into the concern.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +Lechworthy had by far the largest holding, +and the other shareholders were men of a +like mind, personal and political friends; +men of substance, and, it was averred, of +nice conscience. The company earned an +excellent dividend, in spite of its philanthropical +ideas.</p> + +<p>It was not of course to be expected that +Lechworthy & Co. would entirely escape +criticism. The man who has political friends +has also political enemies, and the political +enemy is not always too scrupulous in the way +in which he inquires into his opponents’ +private business. A part at least of the raw +material which the company purchased had +been subjected to comment. Their attitude +towards any smaller manufacturer was characterised +as merciless—he was absorbed into +Lechworthy’s, or he was frozen off the face +of the earth. The scheme of compulsory +thrift was commented upon even by those who +did not deny a value to compulsory virtues. +It was said quite truly that any man who +voluntarily left the company’s service, or who +was dismissed for misconduct, thereby sacrificed +all that he had been compelled to put by. +It was answered as truly that every man who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +entered the service knew upon what conditions +he entered it, and that the company had a +right to guard itself against disloyalty, defection +and disorder, by all the means in its +power. In view of the fact that Lechworthy +had always proclaimed freedom of religious +and political opinions, it was held to be remarkable +that ninety per cent. of his work-people +shared his political views, and that while +every shade of dissent was represented among +them, it was hard to find a member of the +Church of England and impossible to find +either a Catholic or an Agnostic. If this +were mentioned to Lechworthy he said merely +that he had been fortunate, or that he supposed +that like attracted like. He was sincere, and +had strong convictions; he was also shrewd +and knew that strong convictions depend +amazingly little upon argument. Many a +workman of Lechworthy’s had professed for +mercenary and time-serving reasons a religion +which had afterwards become real to him—not +as the result of a cool reasoning analysis, +but by sheer force of habit and by the unconscious +effect of example. Now and again +a discharged servant of the company asserted +bitterly that he had been discharged for his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +political or religious views, but the head of his +department always had another story to tell, +and the evidence of discharged servants is +always—and quite properly—discounted. +A more serious charge was that he had kept +on servants whom he should have discharged. +Mr Bruce Chalmers, the Conservative candidate, +had attempted to address a meeting of +the men in their dinner-hour. Lechworthy’s +young men had smashed up the motor-car, and +hurled stones and mud at himself, his wife, +and his supporters. Mrs Bruce Chalmers had +been seriously injured, the police had come +to the rescue, and several of these fervent +young men had been imprisoned without the +option of a fine. But their situations were +still waiting for them when they came out, +and in some of the worst cases promotion +rapidly followed. Lechworthy maintained that +he had told Chalmers that if he addressed +the men he would do so at his own risk, and +that those who provoked a breach of the peace +should not complain if the peace were broken. +If, as he supposed, the law had punished his +men sufficiently, it would have been unnecessary +and unjust for him to punish them further. +Those who knew that two words from Lech<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>worthy +would have prevented the outbreak, +or knew what Lechworthy’s attitude would +have been to a workman who had been fined +for drunkenness, did not think the defence +satisfactory. For the rest, the selection of +books in the free library at Setton Park +provoked a sneer, the blacking out of all +the racing news in the reading-room papers +seemed a little childish, and the absence +of a rifle-range, when gymnasia, swimming-baths, +and cricket fields were liberally provided, +was taken as an instance of the +short-sighted methods of professed lovers of +peace.</p> + +<p>At the age of sixty Lechworthy determined +to retire from the board of his company. He +had relinquished the position of managing +director some years before. He was not so +young as he had been—it was his favourite +observation—and other men could be found +to take his place on the board. He was an +active Member of Parliament and he was the +proprietor of the <cite>Morning Guide</cite>. The paper +did not pay, and Lechworthy did not run it to +pay; he said more than once in public that he +ran it in the service of Christ. Incidentally, +it was of some use as an organ of his political<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +party, and a most enthralling hobby for himself. +While in England he was quite incapable +of leaving the editor alone for two days together. +The same doctor who had recommended +him to retire from the board of Lechworthy +& Co. had suggested a prolonged +holiday in some place where it would be +impossible for him to see a copy of the <cite>Morning +Guide</cite>.</p> + +<p>The occasion of his retirement had of course +to be marked. Sounded upon the subject, +Lechworthy had objected to the service of +gold plate or to his full-length portrait by the +most fashionable and most expensive artist. +He did not want for money, or for the things +that money can buy, and he said that he +thought the talented artist might find some +more pleasing subject. He knew too, that +subscriptions would come from many who +could ill afford to give them, and that idea +was repellent to him. But he consented to +receive an illuminated address, to which his +employees might affix their signatures. The +address swelled itself to a book, every leaf of +the finest vellum, magnificently bound, +majestically expressed. The title-page declared +as follows:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> + +<div class="center smcap"> +<i>To</i> WILBERFORCE LECHWORTHY, Esquire,<br /> +Justice of the Peace and Member of Parliament<br /> + for South Loamshire,<br /> + on the Occasion of his Retirement from<br /> + that Business<br /> + which his Genius and his Untiring Industry<br /> + have with the Blessing of the Almighty<br /> + Created. +</div> + +<p>The presentation of this rather portentous +volume was to take place on a Saturday +evening. On the afternoon of that day every +employee of the company was invited to tea by +Lechworthy. A number of vast marquees +were erected for the purpose on the cricket-field; +and the return match between Setton +Park and the Hanley Wanderers was in consequence +postponed. The <cite>Evening News</cite> +headed its paragraph on the subject: “<span class="smcap">Lechworthy +packing—who made the portmanteau?</span>” +But the paragraph itself dealt +seriously with statistics supplied by the firm +of caterers, informing the curious how many +hams or how many pats of butter had been +thought sufficient. The Setton Park Band +performed on the occasion. The antique +show of Punch and Judy was to be seen freely, +and swings were prevalent. Wilberforce Lech<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>worthy +went from one marquee to another, +joined in the audience that witnessed the +flagrant immoralities of Mr Punch, and chatted +with the crowds that waited for their turn at +the swings. He displayed a king-like memory +for faces and the geniality of a headmaster +on Speech-day. The presentation of the address +took place some hours later in a hall +which, though it was the largest at the company’s +disposal, could not provide seating +accommodation for one third of its workers. +Heads of departments had tickets, and +seniority of service counted. For those who +were of necessity omitted, Mr Lechworthy had +provided a fine display of fireworks. Inside +the hall the Bishop of Merspool was in the +chair, Mr Albert Grice, M.P., was ready to +speak, and the address was to be presented by +Mr Hutchinson, supported by speeches from +Mr Wallis, Mr Salter and Mr Bailey. In spite +of this, either from altruism or from want of +thought, several of the privileged workmen +offered their tickets freely to comrades who +had otherwise to be content with the display +of fireworks; nor were these offers invariably +accepted. Some observations by the Bishop +on the influences of religion in our commercial<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +life occupied five lines in the papers next +morning, concluding, “The presentation then +took place.” The <cite>Morning Guide</cite> was more +explicit and gave nearly a column. It reported +the Bishop, Mr Grice, and Mr Hutchinson; +it summarised Mr Wallis and Mr Salter, +and asserted that Mr Bailey (who had spoken +for twenty-five minutes) “added a few words +of graceful eulogy.” All it said of Mr Lechworthy +was the bald statement that he returned +thanks. Thus, indeed, had Mr Lechworthy +directed.</p> + +<p>None of the papers noted the presence on +the platform of Miss Hilda Auriol, the niece of +Mr Lechworthy, nor can it be pretended that +she constituted an item of public interest. +But, for the idle purposes of this story, something +must be said of her, even if, in consequence, +it become necessary to suppress any +detailed account of Mr Bailey’s words of +graceful eulogy, or of the Bishop’s rediscovery +that it is better to be good.</p> + +<p>Wilberforce Lechworthy, childless and a +widower, had been glad to adopt Hilda Auriol, +one of his married sister’s very numerous +family. At the age of six he professed to +have detected in her a decided character.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +She was now twenty-three, and her uncle +was very fond of her, but she was perhaps the +only person of whom he was much afraid. +Let it not be supposed that her temper was +either sour or dictatorial. She was sunniness +itself, and her criticism of life—including her +uncle—was fresh and breezy. Her perspicacity +detected and her soul abhorred anything +that was specious and plausible; in practical +politics and in the conduct of a great modern +business the specious and the plausible have +unfortunately their place, and Wilberforce did +occasionally say things after which he experienced +a momentary reluctance to meet his +niece’s eye. She had a sense of humour and +she was by nature a fighter. Her uncle himself +was not a keener politician, and it was +perhaps fortunate that in most respects their +politics were identical. If she had asserted her +independence she had not lost her femininity; +she did take much thought as to the wherewithal +she should be clothed, and she liked +admiration. And she got it. If she had not +already refused six offers of marriage, it was +merely because she had not allowed six men +to go quite as far as they had intended. +Heart-whole, she had not yet met a man who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +much interested her, nor was she trying to +arrange the meeting. She paid no great +attention to athletics, but she could swim a +mile, could sit a horse, and was a really good +shot with a revolver. Of the last item her +uncle had not entirely approved. “Why +not?” said Hilda. “It’s a question of instinct. +Instinct wouldn’t let me play football +or smack a policeman’s face, but it does +let me learn to shoot and want to vote.” She +explained that she was only ready to use +violence if it were not her own violence but +the violence of the other sex. “For instance, +when young Bruce Chalmers had the +cheek to try to address your men, I would not +have thrown stones myself, but—if I had been +there—I would have encouraged the men +who did throw them.”</p> + +<p>“For goodness’ sake don’t say that,” said +her uncle. “It was a lamentable occurrence, +and it was most unfortunate that it was a +woman who was hurt. It has done us more +harm than good.”</p> + +<p>Hilda laughed. She had a rather disconcerting +laugh.</p> + +<p>At the presentation she had looked charming. +In the afternoon she had made friends with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +dozen babies and played games with them, and +she still wore her afternoon dress. But she +looked fresh, cool, unruffled, delicately tended. +Her mutinous little mouth remained firm and +quiet, but a wicked brightness came into her +eyes whenever a speaker achieved unconscious +humour—and this was a calamity which +occurred to most of the speakers. On the +other hand, when Mr Grice recalled “an +intensely amusing anecdote related to me by +an old Scottish lady,” Hilda sighed gently +and seemed to be thinking of far-off sad things. +To such an extent may feminine perversity +be carried.</p> + +<p>Mr Grice, Mr Hutchinson and Mr Wallis +were all directors of the company, and returned +to London in Mr Lechworthy’s special saloon +carriage. The express stopped at Setton +Park by arrangement to pick it up. The +Bishop had already spread his ecclesiastical +wings in another direction. Supper was +served at a little flower-decked table in the +carriage for the party of eight. The three +who have not already been mentioned were +Lechworthy’s elderly unmarried sister, who +was nervous and good-natured; Burton, his +secretary, who had obligingly taken a short-hand note;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +and Mr Harmer, quite recently of +Corpus, Oxford, and at present a leader-writer +on the <cite>Morning Guide</cite>. Mr Harmer wore at +first the air of a man who had got the little +party together and meant to be kind to them, +even if they did not quite reach his level. Later +he had a brief conversation with Hilda Auriol, +to whom he wished to say complimentary +things; Hilda, metaphorically speaking, smote +him between the eyes, and thereafter he wore +the air of a dead rabbit. Yet she addressed +her uncle’s secretary as Tommy, and went +into fits of laughter over his excellent but +irreverent imitation of the Bishop of Merspool, +done for her private delectation. She was +polite and charming to Mr Hutchinson and +Mr Wallis, who admired her intensely; and +to Mr Grice, who admired her quite as much +as a married and middle-aged Member of +Parliament had any business to do. Altogether, +it was a cheerful little party. Mr +Lechworthy, his sister and his niece did not +touch the dry champagne to which the others +did justice; but Mr Lechworthy’s ginger-ale, +taken in a champagne-glass, presented a +colourable imitation of festivity. At the +moment of the cigarette, Miss Lechworthy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +and her niece retired to rest with instructions +that they were not to be called before London.</p> + +<p>In the little saloon, when the supper-table +had been cleared, the men sat round and +chatted, Mr Harmer alone being taciturn—which +was unusual with him. If the conversation +was now more serious it was quite optimistic. +Mr Grice removed a faded malmaison +from his button-hole, jerked it into the outer +darkness, and remarked that it must be +difficult for a man of Mr Lechworthy’s splendid +energy to get himself to take a holiday at all.</p> + +<p>Mr Lechworthy was smoking the briar pipe +which he permitted himself after dark. His +figure was lean, and at this late hour of night +did not show any sign of fatigue. He sat upright. +His hair was grey, but he had no +tendency to baldness. He did not wear +spectacles or false teeth. He certainly seemed +for a man of his age unusually strong and +healthy. But he made his customary observation +that he was not as young as he had been. +He spoke of his holiday plans.</p> + +<p>“Let me see,” said Mr Wallis. “I suppose +you go to Sydney first?”</p> + +<p>“Sydney and then Auckland. Might go +on by one of the Union boats from there. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +I want to get a little off the usual lines, and I +think that I should do better to buy or hire +a schooner there. I know very little about +such things, but I have friends at Auckland +who would help me. I’m fond of sailing.”</p> + +<p>“You’re to be envied,” said Grice. “No +business, no House of Commons. Nothing to +do but enjoy yourself.”</p> + +<p>Lechworthy fixed his rather fanatical eyes +on him. “Nothing to do but enjoy myself? +That would be a poor kind of life, Grice. No, +no. Let me use my holiday as I have tried +to use politics, journalism, and even the +business with which I have just disconnected +myself—to the highest service of all.”</p> + +<p>“Quite so,” said Hutchinson. “The rest—the +gain in health and strength—will be valuable +to you, because they will enable you to +resume that service.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes. True enough. But I had +thought of something beyond that. A voyage +without an end in view would not greatly +interest me, and even if one does not work one +must at least have some sort of occupation. +Our friend, Mr Harmer, will laugh at me, but +I am proposing to write a pamphlet—it may +even be a little book.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + +<p>It should surely be abhorrent to a leader-writer +to laugh at his proprietor’s ambitions. +Mr Harmer did not laugh. He left his +taciturnity and his brandy-and-soda to observe +that he was convinced that Mr Lechworthy +already possessed materials for a dozen books—interesting +books too. If there was any difficulty +about getting the thing into literary shape +Mr Harmer would only be too happy, etc., etc.</p> + +<p>“Thank you very much. If I don’t ask +you, it won’t be because I don’t know your +capabilities in that way. But, you see, Mr +Harmer, I’m not going to try to do anything +literary. I couldn’t. And if you did it for +me under my name, I should be wearing +borrowed plumes. Tell you what I’m going to +do—I’m going to make notes of the different +missions in the islands I visit. I can only +touch the fringe of the subject, of course. +Goodness knows how many inhabited islands +there are where I’m going—Eastern and +Southern Pacific—and I shall only have six +or eight months there. Still I want to wake +up our people about South Sea Missions. +The ordinary man knows nothing about the +islands. What could you, Tommy, for instance, +tell us about them?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I dunno,” said Tommy, reflectively. “I +read some yarns about them when I was a kid. +All coral and cokernuts, ain’t they?”</p> + +<p>“Ah! There are human souls there too. +Yes, and I’m told that in one group at any +rate Roman Catholicism is rampant. There’s +work to be done.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Grice, “if we hadn’t been +fools enough to let the French slip in and grab +what they <span class="lock">wanted—”</span></p> + +<p>“Grice, my friend, let us be proud that in +one instance, at any rate, this country has not +done all the grabbing. I’m not going to +suggest that we should add one square foot +to our possessions. We have too much—territorially, +we’re gorged. No, let us see +rather what we can do to spread the true +religion in place of the false. That’s what I +feel. If I can do one little thing for the cause +of true religion, then my holiday won’t be +entirely wasted.”</p> + +<p>“No, indeed,” said Mr Wallis, who suddenly +felt that his cigar and the glass in front of him +had been inappropriate.</p> + +<p>Mr Lechworthy’s fist descended solemnly +on the table before him. “True religion—that’s +the only thing. I’ve kept it before me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +in my business. I’ve tried to show that it is +possible to treat the workman as a brother, +to consider his soul’s eternal salvation, and yet +to make a fair profit. I’ve dared to bring +practical religion into journalism. <cite>The Morning +Guide</cite> loses me so much every day, so much +every year. The money’s set aside for it—to +produce a paper which will never print a +divorce case or an item of racing news—a paper +in which every <i>feuilleton</i> clearly and +distinctly enforces a good moral—a paper +which will be the sworn foe of this blatant +self-styled imperialism. In the House I +venture to say that I belong to the religious +party. You’ll find little religion among the +Conservatives—and what there is, is largely +tainted with ritualism. Unprofitable servant +that I am, little though I have done, I have at +least kept my faith and carried it into my +life.”</p> + +<p>There were a few seconds of silence. Then +somewhere at the back of the saloon a fool of +a servant opened a bottle of soda-water. It +went off with a loud and ironical pop. The +gurgle of the fluid seemed to utter a repeated +tut-tut. But Mr Lechworthy was unperturbed. +Gliding easily into another subject, he began<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +to talk about cameras. His book or pamphlet, +whichever it might be, was to be profusely +illustrated. Mr Wallis, an amateur photographer +of some experience, was lavish with +his advice. Later, a possible title for the book +was discovered. Mr Grice, who had been a +little sleepy, grew suddenly alert again and +almost disproportionately enthusiastic. “A +magnificent and noble enterprise that could +only have occurred to yourself, Lechworthy,” +was a phrase that possibly overstated the +facts. Tommy Burton slept peacefully—poor +Tommy Burton—much in love with Hilda +Auriol and condemned to perpetual cheerfulness +and brotherhood.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Thus it happened that the schooner which +Cyril Mast had sighted bore with it to the +island of Faloo Mr Lechworthy and his niece. +He had never intended to take Hilda with him +at all, but then Hilda had always intended to +go. Faloo had never been part of his programme, +and all that the skipper could tell +him about it was that it was wrongly charted; +but Hilda had caught a glimpse of it in the +evening light and decided that she must spend +an hour or two there. It was immediately<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +discovered that the ship needed oranges and +taro, and that Faloo might as well provide +them. Lechworthy still had a will of his own, +but then the captain knew so much more and +Hilda cared so much more, and the sweet content +of the South Seas had settled down upon +him. He had eaten peach-flavoured bananas +and he was learning the mango. The expressed +juice of the fresh lime, mingled with ice and +soda-water, seemed to him the best drink that +had ever been found. As to the missions—well, +he was getting a general impression (which +bothered him a little, because it was not quite +the impression that he had meant to get), and +he would fill in the bare facts later. He had +taken many photographs and would develop +the rolls of film as soon as he could find the +time—unless he came upon somebody who +would do them for him.</p> + +<p>At dawn the <i>Snowflake</i> lay in a dead calm +just outside the reef. Cyril Mast took a good +look at her. The snowy decks, the brilliant +white paint and the polished metal showing +a hundred bright points of light in the sunshine, +told that this was no ordinary trader. Had +the retreat of the exiles been discovered at +last? No, for the ship to come in that case<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +would be something sterner than this pretty +toy. In a few minutes he had changed his +clothes; and now his collar, his necktie and +his waistcoat proclaimed his calling. He +could manage a canoe excellently himself—it +was his favourite pastime when sober—but +now his dignity demanded that a couple of +natives should propel him out through the +opening in the reef to the schooner’s side. +The natives—as curious as Mast—were eager +for the work. At the moment the mad idea +which Mast subsequently carried out had not +yet entered his head. All that he wanted was +to find out what the schooner was, and if +possible to get some break in the accursed +monotony of his island life. He wanted, +pathetically, to exchange a few civilities with +some white man who did not know too much +about him—to catch a glimpse of the outside +world that had been closed to him. That was +why he wore the starched dog-collar that was +so uncomfortable, and the frayed black alpaca +jacket, and the waistcoat of clerical cut. He +had not worn them for ages; but he meant +now, for an hour perhaps, to get back to the +old time, before certain events had made +Faloo the only place in the world for him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> + +<p>Already there were many natives on the +beach, adorned with wreaths and necklaces +of flowers, wearing holiday clothes. It might +be of course that the schooner was merely +waiting for a wind, but perhaps a boat would +come ashore and there would be much festivity. +Possibly some order had come to them from +King Smith, for a few of the natives who would +have launched their canoes were restrained by +the others; and the two men who had taken +Cyril Mast out did not attempt to go on board. +Of King Smith himself nothing was to be seen. +The white men still slept peacefully in their +bedrooms at the club, or in their own houses. +The schooner was Cyril Mast’s own discovery; +none of the others knew of its arrival.</p> + +<p>On the deck of the <i>Snowflake</i> Mr Lechworthy +came forward with hand outstretched.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know your name, sir,” he said, +“but I am glad and proud to meet you. +Missionary enterprise is a subject in which +I take the deepest interest. My name’s +Lechworthy—you may have come across it +in connection with my business.”</p> + +<p>Cyril Mast stammered his own name. He +was astounded. He, the pariah, the outcast, +had been mistaken for a missionary. This<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +man of wealth and position was admiring his +heroic self-sacrifice. And that beautiful girl +with the laughing <span class="lock">eyes—</span></p> + +<p>“Permit me, sir, to present you to my +niece, Miss Auriol.”</p> + +<p>Miss Auriol took one glance at his pimply, +blotchy complexion, and in great charity +remembered that there was a complaint called +prickly heat and that a prolonged sojourn in +the tropics must be unhealthy for a European. +She chatted freely. They expected to sail +again later in the morning, but were sending a +boat ashore to see if they could get some fresh +fruit. Her uncle and she had thought of +going in the boat and getting an hour, perhaps, +in Faloo.</p> + +<p>As she spoke, Cyril Mast made up his mind. +He would act the part that had been given +him. The deception could not be kept up for +any length of time, but it might be managed +for one hour. It was simple enough to call the +club the mission-house. Few if any of the +members would be about at this hour, and he +could manage to get breakfast served at a +table on the lawn outside the house. An hour +in which to see this beautiful English <span class="lock">girl—</span></p> + +<p>He found himself speaking rapidly. They<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +must certainly come ashore and have breakfast +at the mission-house. His canoe would pilot +their boat. It would be the greatest pleasure +for him to show them something of the island. +See, that was the mission-house there among +the orange trees.</p> + +<p>Hilda Auriol and her uncle agreed that it +looked charming; the invitation was at once +accepted. Preparations for their departure +and the arrangements for their return were +made at once. Cyril Mast’s canoe flew over +the water, the schooner’s boat following. +Speaking partly in the native tongue and +partly in English he explained to the crowd +on the beach that the ship was “Mikonaree.” +He would take the “Mikonaree” and his +daughter up to the club, where they wished +to go. The others—they must entertain them +as best they could—would be going up to the +stores to buy things and the King would direct +what was to be done.</p> + +<p>On their way up from the beach to the club-house +Mr Lechworthy asked if Mr Mast had +been long on the island.</p> + +<p>“Four years.”</p> + +<p>“And never a holiday?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Mast, who every moment felt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +more like a real missionary, “no, I have +needed no holiday.”</p> + +<p>“Rather lonely, I should think,” said Hilda.</p> + +<p>“Well, one has one’s work. There are +other white men on the island too—traders +and planters. You may possibly see some of +them up at the mission-house.”</p> + +<p>Lechworthy began on the subject of his book—his +projected work on the missions of the +South Seas. A native girl ran up with a necklace +of flowers for Hilda. Mast began to talk +more easily and fluently, falling into the part +that had been assigned to him. He described +King Smith, that prodigy among natives, with +accuracy and with some humour. He was +sketching the French Mission for his guests as +they entered, with exclamations of delight, +the beautiful garden of the Exiles’ Club. +Somewhere at the back of his head Mast was +wondering why King Smith had not appeared. +The arrival of a schooner constituted a great +event. What could he be doing?</p> + +<p>Just at present the King sat in his office, +deep in thought. Another event had happened +which made the schooner’s arrival of comparatively +little importance in his eyes. It +was the first sign that his power might not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +hold back the native outbreak, and it had +come before he expected it. In the early +morning, while it was still dark, the King as +he lay awake had heard a scream—brief, +agonised. It seemed to be fairly near—a +hundred yards or so away. He had lighted a +lantern and searched the scrub at the back of +the stores. There he had found the dead body +of a white man with a native knife sticking +in his throat. The white man was Duncombe, +and no complaint against him had ever +reached the King’s ears. It was a private +revenge, and might not end there.</p> + +<p>The King decided and acted quickly. +Already the body was buried out of sight, +covered with quicklime in a shallow grave. +Hundreds of the natives were in a state of +angry ferment, held back by the King with +difficulty; if they saw that the first step had +already been taken, it would be impossible +to hold them back at all. The King himself +had been the grave-digger and had kept his +own counsel. Duncombe would be missed at +the Exiles’ Club that day. On the morrow his +friends would be anxiously searching for him. +Meanwhile, the King would have found out the +assassin and would have used the strange gift<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +with which the natives credited him. He +would talk to the man seriously in the melodious +native tongue, and say that he wished for his +death. No other step would be necessary. +The man would go back to his hut, refuse food, +remain obstinately silent, and presently draw +a cloth over his face and die. In what way +the death was caused the King could not have +told you, though once before he had used this +gift. Modern science may choose between an +explanation by hypnotic suggestion, or a blunt +denial of a fact which has been credibly +witnessed and reported.</p> + +<p>In a few days the strange disappearance of +Duncombe would be forgotten. The King felt +sure that for a while at any rate no further +provocation would come from the white men. +The natives would quiet down again, and their +King would be free to follow the line of his own +ambitions.</p> + +<p>For the moment nothing else could be done. +The King roused himself and went out to look +at the schooner. Word had already been +brought to him that this was not a trader. +His interest was no more than idle curiosity. +He did not know that already there reclined +in a lounge-chair on the lawn of the Exiles’<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +Club the man for whom he had been seeking. +Lechworthy proposed to enjoy his hour or two +in Faloo; he also did not know. He did not +know that he was destined to remain in Faloo +for days, and to meet with incidents that were +but little enjoyable.</p> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + + +<p>The Rev. Cyril Mast left his guests for a +few minutes on the lawn, while he went +into the club to order breakfast. The hour +was early, but not unusually early, and the +Exiles’ Club never closed. For a few hours +after midnight the staff was much diminished, +and only one of the white servants was on duty, +but even then a member could always get +anything he wanted. At least two-thirds of +the members had bedrooms at the club.</p> + +<p>But to-day the club did not wear its air of +morning freshness. The soiled glasses and +laden ash-trays of the night before were left +still on the little tables on the verandah and in +the hall. Not enough windows had been +opened, and the sour smell of stale cigar-smoke +poisoned the place. Even the Rev. Cyril +Mast, who was by no means particular, +noticed it. A reluctant native servant was +sent to find Thomas, and failed; a minute +later Thomas arrived of his own volition from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +the bedrooms, looking hurried and worried. +His quick eye noticed Mast’s clerical clothes.</p> + +<p>“I say, Thomas,” said Mast, “this place is +in a hell of a mess.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” said Thomas, and gave a rapid +order to two native servants. “Very sorry, +sir, but it’s all the schooner.”</p> + +<p>“How do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“It’s made so many of the gentlemen unusually +early. Quite a little excitement, when +we first heard about it, sir. Seems it’s just a +chance visit from some missionary, but it’s +meant more for us to do here—gentlemen +requiring baths and breakfasts. Three orders +to give at this moment.”</p> + +<p>“Do that first, and then I can talk.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, sir,” said Thomas, and called +down the speaking-tube. “Drinking cokernut, +large gin, ice and dry biscuit to Lord +Charles. Got that? Right. Tea and boiled +eggs, Mr Bassett. Got that? Right. Those +two lots in the bedrooms at once. Coffee, two +pork chops and stewed pineapple to Mr +Mandelbaum downstairs in twenty minutes. +Yes, that’s all. Now, sir, I’m ready.”</p> + +<p>“I have two guests from the schooner—one +of them is a lady—and I want breakfast<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +for them in the garden. And, look here, +Thomas, they’re here for only an hour or so, +and we’ve got business, and if possible I don’t +want to be interrupted by any of the gentlemen. +Put the table in some secluded corner. See?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, sir. Sir John and Dr Soames +Pryce are out already, sir, but they will probably +have gone to the beach, and I think +there’s no other gentleman down yet.”</p> + +<p>As they settled the details of the breakfast +more windows were opened and a strong, +fresh breeze blew in from the sea. Under +the eye of Thomas the native servants moved +more quickly and order began to be restored.</p> + +<p>“You manage those beggars pretty well,” +said Mast.</p> + +<p>But Thomas was pessimistic. Four gallons +of methylated spirits had been stolen from the +club stores, and for the life of him he couldn’t +find out which of his boys had got it. It was +his belief that the only man who could really +manage them was King Smith.</p> + +<p>The Rev. Cyril Mast had been careful to +place chairs for his guests where the orange-trees +screened them from any view of the house. +Mr Lechworthy was perfectly contented to stay +where he had been put. He was quite happy,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +and he promised himself that presently he +would acquire valuable material for a sketch +of a Protestant mission on one of the smallest, +the loneliest, and the most beautiful of the +South Sea islands. Meanwhile he had risen +very early, and he had some ability for the five-minute +snooze. His head went back and the +brim of his black felt hat shaded his eyes. +But Hilda Auriol had sighted a big parrot, +swaying on its perch in a patch of sunshine, +and it was her wont to make friends with all +tame birds and beasts.</p> + +<p>She went up and spoke to the parrot. The +bird gave a husky cough, imitated the act of +expectoration, and began to say the three +worst things it knew. Then it sat blinking +and thinking in silence. As Hilda passed the +verandah, the French windows of the card-room +were flung wide open, and she caught +one glimpse of it—precisely as it had been +left the night before. She returned and +roused Mr Lechworthy.</p> + +<p>“There are at least sixteen missionaries +here, uncle, which seems a good many for such +a small island. The sixteen play cards, drink, +and teach a parrot bad language. I don’t +think I like them.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr Lechworthy was much startled. “What +do you mean, my dear?”</p> + +<p>Hilda told him precisely what she had seen—the +card-room with the four tables, at all of +which play had taken place, and the other +tables piled with glasses, gazogenes, and tiny +decanters. She pointed out the parrot, and +once more the bird became clearly articulate +and quite reprehensible.</p> + +<p>“I cannot understand it,” said Mr Lechworthy. +“The thing’s incomprehensible. I +must see into this—there may be something +which I shall have to put a stop to. I ought +not to have brought you here, Hilda. You +must leave me and get back to the boat at +once.”</p> + +<p>Hilda laughed. “Oh, no. We’ll see it +through together. Here comes our host.”</p> + +<p>“Well, he shall have his chance to explain. +He spoke of other white men—traders and +planters. They may be responsible. It is +impossible to believe that a minister of the +true religion would—No, he will explain.”</p> + +<p>Hilda and her uncle went forward to meet +Mast. They stood now in full view of the +house and close to the entrance to the garden. +Mast was voluble in his apologies. He was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +sorry to have kept them so long, but he was +afraid his native servants were not very intelligent. +He feared that breakfast would be +rather primitive when it did arrive. But they +would have it in a spot from which one of the +loveliest views in the island could be obtained.</p> + +<p>Mr Lechworthy smiled pleasantly. He and +his niece preferred to live quite simply, and +it was most kind of Mr Mast to entertain them +in any case. “While we are waiting for breakfast, +perhaps you will show us the mission-house. +We should particularly like to see +that—the church, too, that you built for the +natives.”</p> + +<p>Cyril Mast made three different excuses +in three different sentences. Lechworthy +watched him narrowly, and drew one or two +correct conclusions. His pleasant smile +vanished, and beneath their heavy brows his +eyes looked serious.</p> + +<p>And then Bassett’s curious little figure +appeared on the verandah. He had hurried +through his breakfast and was hastening down +to the beach to find out what he could of the +schooner. But he was scarcely outside the +doors before the wind, blowing now with increasing +force, caught up his big felt hat and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +whirled it into the bushes. Bassett chased his +hat, and for the moment did not notice the +little group by the orange-trees. But Lechworthy’s +quick eye had already recognised +him.</p> + +<p>“That man over there—is he also engaged +in missionary work?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. In a sense, yes,” stammered Mast. +“<span class="lock">He—”</span></p> + +<p>“It will be interesting to talk to him about +it. I happen to know him, and I will call him. +Bassett!”</p> + +<p>Bassett was startled and turned sharply. +He came very slowly across the lawn, much +as a dog comes to his master for punishment. +What on earth was Lechworthy doing in +Faloo? Was he, too, flying from justice? +That would explain the arrival of the schooner +and the fact that he was evidently on friendly +terms with Cyril Mast. But Bassett had to put +that notion aside. Knowing Lechworthy, he +knew that it was not possible. And Bassett +was very much afraid. What did Lechworthy +mean to do? Well, he must put the +best face on it he could. A defence that +would be torn to rags in court might seem +plausible enough in Faloo.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Good-morning, Mr Lechworthy,” said +Bassett. “This is a great surprise. Morning, +Mast.”</p> + +<p>“Bassett,” said Lechworthy, “Mr Mast, +whom I had not met before, brought us here +from my schooner. He has told me that you +are associated with him in his missionary work +here. Now you, Bassett, I have met many +times before, and I know your history.”</p> + +<p>But it was not Bassett who answered; it was +Cyril Mast, whose face was white and twitched +curiously.</p> + +<p>“This is my fault, Mr Lechworthy,” said +Mast. “I had not meant to represent myself +to you as a missionary. But you made the +mistake, and I was tempted to go on with it.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Lechworthy, quietly. “I +don’t think I see why. You hardly seem to be +enjoying a practical joke.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you? For four years I have not +spoken with a decent white man or woman. +We are all the same here—and we’re here because +there’s no other place left. If you had +known about me—the truth about me—you +would not have spoken to me at all. That’s +all. Don’t ask me any questions, please. I’m +going to leave you now. Get back to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +schooner at once; any of the natives on the +beach will find a canoe for you.”</p> + +<p>Without a word to Bassett Mast raised +his hat and turned away. He went up the +steps of the verandah and into the club-house.</p> + +<p>“I think,” said Hilda, “that his advice is +good. It’s blowing hard now, and the <i>Snowflake</i> +can’t lie where she is—with the reef on +her lee.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, my dear, we will go. But I must +have a few words with Mr Bassett in private. +Go on ahead of us a little.”</p> + +<p>And now Bassett found his tongue. “You +must not pay any attention to what Mast said, +Mr Lechworthy. Mast is a good fellow, but +he suffers from fits of morbid depression in +which he believes himself to have done horrible +things—the life here is very lonely, you know—no +amusements of any kind—nobody to +speak to.”</p> + +<p>Lechworthy thought of the card-tables. +“Bassett,” he said, “it’s not about Mast but +about yourself that I wish to speak. Many +have looked for you and have not found you. +I have found you unwittingly—I think because +I was sent to find you. You are a thief, +Bassett. You are a murderer, for one of those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +poor women whose property you stole took her +own life.”</p> + +<p>“I am absolutely innocent, Mr Lechworthy. +I have a complete explanation. You—should +be careful, sir. I have seen men shot dead on +this island for saying less than you have said +to me.”</p> + +<p>“Do not try to frighten me, Bassett. I am +ready for death when God wills, and death will +come no sooner than that. You are coming +back home with me, Bassett. You’ve fled +to the far corner of the earth, and it’s no use; +your sin has found you out. You are coming +back to take your trial, and, if need be, your +punishment. Do that, and I will help you by +all the means in my power. I will help you +to make your peace with man and to something +better—your peace with God. It’s the one +way to happiness. You’ll find no way here. +Turn back for nothing. Come now, this +moment.”</p> + +<p>Even as he spoke Bassett had made his plan. +Hilda, a few yards in front of them, turned +round. “Which way?” she called.</p> + +<p>“The little track to the right, if you please,” +called Bassett, “it’s the shortest.” Then +he turned to Lechworthy. “I will come,” he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +said. “I put myself in your hands unreservedly.”</p> + +<p>The little track to the right was very narrow +and led through thick scrub, damp and +odorous with the scent of the frangipani +bushes. Hilda, well on ahead, fought her +way through a tangle of lianas. Behind her +came Lechworthy, crouching and going +gingerly, serenely happy. Behind him at a +little distance came Bassett, his hat under his +arm, sweating profusely, the revolver which +he had taken out from his pocket held clumsily +in his shaking right hand.</p> + +<p>And some way behind Bassett, going far +faster than any of them, and unseen by +any of them, came the lithe figure of King +Smith.</p> + +<p>Just as Bassett fired the King’s club came +down heavily on his head. Hilda turned with +a cry, as she heard the report, and struggled +back again to her uncle. Mr Lechworthy +had at last found a place where he could stand +upright and ease his aching back. He held +his black felt hat in his hand, and examined +the bullet-hole in the rim with a mild, inquiring +benevolent eye.</p> + +<p>“You are not hurt, uncle?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Not in the least, my dear, thanks to this +gentleman.”</p> + +<p>“Get up,” said King Smith to Bassett.</p> + +<p>Dazed, rubbing his sore head with one hand, +Bassett staggered to his feet. He looked from +one to the other bewildered. In this wind, +that gave a voice to every bush, he had not +heard the approach of King Smith. And now +his revolver lay on the ground, and the King’s +foot was on it, and it was the King who spoke +in a way that Bassett had not heard before.</p> + +<p>“I have finished with you. Go where you +like and do what you like. And a little before +midnight you will die.”</p> + +<p>It was the definite sentence of death, and +Bassett knew it. Half-stunned as he was, +he could still lie and make a defence.</p> + +<p>He began an explanation. He had taken +out the revolver to draw the cartridges and +stumbled. The thing was a pure accident. +But of course King Smith was not in earnest. +He could not sentence a white man to death +like that. He would be elected to the white +men’s club in a few days. The white men were +his partners in business, <span class="lock">and—</span></p> + +<p>The King cut him short. “It is to the +King and not to the trader that you speak<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +now,” he said, as he picked up Bassett’s revolver. +“Do not compel me to shoot you +where you stand. It is better that you should +have a few hours to arrange your affairs. +Shortly before midnight, remember.”</p> + +<p>Bassett turned away in silence. Certainly +the white men would act together and stop +an outrage of this kind. He must see Sir John +and Dr Pryce at once.</p> + +<p>The King was transformed immediately +from a stern judge into a courteous man. He +made many apologies to Lechworthy. He +brought news from the <i>Snowflake</i>, from which +he had just returned. The wind had got up +so suddenly that there had been no time to +send for Lechworthy; the schooner had run +for the lee of the island.</p> + +<p>“I think, Mr Lechworthy, that the English +have a proverb that it is an ill wind which blows +nobody any good. I confess that I am very +glad to get this opportunity of speaking with +you. You can help us very much in this +island if you will. Of course my palace in +the interior will be entirely at the disposal +of yourself and your niece. A guard will be +placed there, and I can guarantee your personal +safety. I will do my best for your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +comfort. And in a day or two, when the +hurricane has blown itself out, you shall go on +your way again if you will.”</p> + +<p>“We owe you our lives, sir,” said Mr Lechworthy +with some dignity. “And now we +must thank you for your hospitality as well. +It is as though God had sent you to save us. +We shall come to you willingly and with the +utmost gratitude.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed,” said Hilda.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps,” said the King, “you will do +me a greater service than anything I am able +to do for you. Now, if you will follow me +back to the next clearing, some of my people +will be waiting for us.”</p> + +<p>“There’s just one thing,” said Hilda, +hesitatingly. She had never spoken to a King +before, and she was rather shy about it.</p> + +<p>“Yes?” said the King, smiling. “The +schooner? It will be quite safe.”</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid,” said Hilda, “that I meant—er—clothes.”</p> + +<p>“I foresaw that,” said the King. “Everything +in that way that could be got together +in the few minutes that we had to spare has +already been brought ashore in my canoes. If +there is anything further that you would like,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +another canoe will go out to the schooner as +soon as it is practicable.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks so much,” said Hilda, fervently.</p> + +<p>They retraced their steps to the clearing, +for the path by which Bassett had taken them +led only into the scrub. Many natives were +in waiting, full of smiles and excitement. To +one group after another the King gave rapid +yet careful directions. Some sped inland and +others down to the beach. Presently some +twenty of the native boys were racing on +bicycles up the road to the King’s house. +Soon only two of the natives remained, two girls +of surpassing beauty, chosen by the king from +many aspirants. The King turned to Hilda.</p> + +<p>“Miss Auriol, these two girls wish to be your +friends, and to do everything that you want +while you are on the island. They will be in +attendance upon you while you are at my house, +if you will let them come. They are of my +kin, and they speak a little English. If you +will have them, you will make them very +happy.”</p> + +<p>Hilda had already been watching the girls +with frank admiration. “Oh, yes, please,” +she said eagerly. “There is nothing I should +have liked better.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> + +<p>Tiva and Ioia flew to her side at once. +Hilda made in them pleasant discoveries of +shyness, <i>naïveté</i>, curiosity, the utmost friendliness, +and a delicious sense of humour. Their +questions were many and amazing, their +broken English made her laugh, and their +laughter echoed her own. Even in the short +descent to the beach, these fascinating people +made her forget how near she had been to +tragedy. The beautiful island of Faloo that +had begun to be dark and hateful to her took +up its charm again.</p> + +<p>Behind the group of girls walked Mr Lechworthy +in placid converse with the King.</p> + +<p>“Events happen quickly here,” said Lechworthy. +“A bogus missionary—a meeting +with an absconding solicitor, whom I knew +in his better days—an attempt to murder me—my +escape, for which I thank you, sir, and, +unhappily, the sentence of death.” He hesitated, +and then ventured to point out that in +England an attempt to murder was punished +less severely.</p> + +<p>To the ignorant native the English practice +seemed to be illogical and to put a premium +on bad shooting. But he did not raise +this point. He said that he had never pro<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>nounced +sentence on a white man before, +though the white men in his island had done +much wrong. This was not the only offence +that Bassett had committed, and it was +necessary that he should die. “Here, you +see, I am the King and the law—and my island +is not England. It is all different. You will +see later.”</p> + +<p>There was a pause, and then the King said, +“I already know something of you, Mr Lechworthy. +I read your speeches at the time of +the South African war, and an article about +you which appeared a year or more ago in +a paper called the <cite>Spectator</cite>. I have your +pamphlet about Setton Park, and I have many +copies of the <cite>Morning Guide</cite> containing articles +signed by you. I cannot tell you with what +joy I found it was you that the <i>Snowflake</i> had +brought. You, perhaps more than any other +Englishman, can help us here.”</p> + +<p>“Every minute, sir, I become more surprised. +Here, many hundreds of miles from +civilisation, I find a native king who speaks +English like an Englishman, procures and +reads the English papers, even knows something +of such a seventh-rate politician and +busy-body as myself. But, sir, with the best<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +will in the world to help you in any way that +my conscience permits, I don’t see what I am +to do.”</p> + +<p>“If you are kind enough to permit me to +dine with you to-night, I will explain everything.”</p> + +<p>They had reached the beach, and once more +the King changed the subject.</p> + +<p>“You breakfasted at the Exiles’ Club? +No? I thought perhaps that might be so. +Well, it is all ready here.” The King led the +way to a broad balcony of his unofficial +residence, well sheltered from the wind. +“You will be more comfortable at my house +inland—here there is not much.”</p> + +<p>Certainly, the plates and cups were of various +patterns and had seen service; the forks and +spoons were not coated with a precious metal, +and the use of the Union Jack as a cloth to the +low breakfast-table could only be excused by +those who saw that a compliment was intended. +But Mr Lechworthy drank the best coffee he +had met in the islands, and devoured in blind +faith delicious fruits of which he did not even +know the names. “Also very good,” he +murmured at every fresh experiment. King +Smith had business needing his attention else<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>where, +and it was Tiva and Ioia who waited +upon his guests. Nominally these two girls +did not breakfast, but Tiva ate sugar when +she happened to come across it, and Ioia drank +coffee out of Hilda’s cup when Hilda had +finished with it. In the intervals they learned +the word “Hilda,” and exchanged the story of +the robber-crab for hints on hair-dressing. Of +their own toilette they spoke with an innocent +freedom, utterly open-air and natural, which +to some European girls might have been disconcerting. +But Hilda had picked up the +right point of view, an invaluable possession +to the traveller anywhere. She had talked +and played with native girls in Tahiti and other +islands, but she had found nothing so charming +as Tiva and Ioia.</p> + +<p>“When shall we go on to the palace?” +Hilda asked.</p> + +<p>“Sometime—plenty quick,” said Tiva. +The answer was not precise; but then to Tiva +the question was idle, for what on earth does +time matter?</p> + +<p>“I wonder,” said Mr Lechworthy, “if you +could tell us anything about this palace? It +must be an interesting place.”</p> + +<p>Mr Lechworthy inspired the girls with some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +awe. It was quite clear to them that he was +a very great chief indeed, and possibly King +Edward VII. Never before had King Smith +received any white man in this way. Wherefore +Tiva hid her face in Hilda’s shoulder. +Ioia said thoughtfully that the palace was a +“plenty-plenty big house.” She had thoughts +of adding a few picturesque inventions—it was +so hard for her not to give everybody everything +they wanted—but she refrained. It +subsequently transpired, in talk with Hilda, +that neither Tiva nor Ioia had ever seen the +King’s official residence. It stood in a big +garden, hidden by trees, and the whole place +had been taboo to all native women. A few +of the native men had charge of it, and no one +else had been allowed to enter. This would +be changed now. Tiva and Ioia were to +reside there as long as Hilda remained, and it +was clear that they looked forward with delight +to this privilege and, possibly, to the satisfaction +of their curiosity.</p> + +<p>King Smith himself announced that all was +now ready for the drive to his house in the +interior. There were two light, well-built +buggies, with island ponies harnessed to them. +Hilda and her two attendants went in the first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +vehicle, followed by the King and Mr Lechworthy. +The luggage had already gone on, +borne on the heads of natives. The drive was +along a wide, white-powdered road, bordered +on either side by groves of palms. Glorious +bougainvilleas made streams and splashes of +colour. The tall utu scattered its graceful +plumes of rose and white. Sheltered though +the road was, the travellers could hear the +roar of the wind, and now and then a soft thud, +as a nut heavily-husked thumped to the ground.</p> + +<p>As they went, the King told Lechworthy +all that he wished to know about the Exiles’ +Club.</p> + +<p>“But how can you permit it, sir—this lazar-house, +this refuge for the worst scum of Europe +polluting your beautiful kingdom?”</p> + +<p>“I have not only permitted it, I have even—in +vain—tried to become a member of the +club. I have done even worse. My friend, +if a man wishes to escape from a prison, he will +use good tools, if he has them, to break through +the walls. And if he has not good tools, he +will use anything that comes to his hand—rusty +iron, old nails, anything. And he will +use them even if they hurt his hand and put a +festering wound in it.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, I see what you mean. I will +not judge hastily. To-night, I think you +<span class="lock">said—”</span></p> + +<p>“To-night I tell you everything. You will +find much to condemn, much that is hateful to +you. But you love liberty and you will help +my people in spite of all. Then I shall no +longer need the bad tools, and I shall put them +down. And as for the festering wound in my +hand, I shall burn it with a little gunpowder +and in time it will be made whole again.”</p> + +<p>Lechworthy, watching him as he spoke, was +conscious that he had found here a master +among men, clear in purpose, indomitable in +pursuit of it. But where was the man’s +Christianity? What were his political purposes? +Was there no danger in being drawn +into them? Well, that night he would see. +He had already found that the King could be +inexorable, and that it seemed impossible to +procure postponement of the execution of +Bassett even by one single hour.</p> + +<p>Bassett himself was horribly frightened, but +he did not believe that the sentence of death +would be carried out. For the moment King +Smith was angry; later in the day Bassett +would see him again, or would get Sir John to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +do it for him. He would persist, of course, that +the shot was accidental. Besides, King Smith +might be pleased to say that he did not speak +as a trader, but he still was a trader, and on the +trader the members of the Exiles’ Club could +bring very stringent and serious pressure to +bear. If the King still persisted—well, it was +easy enough for him to pronounce sentence, +but he would find it impossible to carry it +out.</p> + +<p>In the hall of the club Mr Bassett found the +Rev. Cyril Mast and Lord Charles Baringstoke. +The latter was shivering in pale blue pyjamas +and an ulster; he had not yet bathed, neither +had he brushed his yellow hair. The two men +were getting on well with a bottle of doubtful +champagne.</p> + +<p>“Hullo, Mr damned Bassett,” said his +lordship. “You’ve got a lot of blood on your +collar. Somebody been crackin’ your egg for +you?”</p> + +<p>Bassett took no notice of him. He turned +upon Mast and swore hard at him. So +choked was he with rage that he could hardly +articulate. He repeated himself over and +over again. Had Mast gone clean out of his +mind? What had he done it for? What had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +he brought Lechworthy there for? Lechworthy +of all people! He stormed and +spluttered his abuse.</p> + +<p>“Lechworthy was my guest and you can +mind your own business,” said Mast, sullenly, +and refilled his glass. “If you swear at me +again, I’ll hit you.”</p> + +<p>“My business?” screamed Bassett—but he +did not swear this time. “Why, wait till +you’ve heard. We’re done—every man of us—and +all the result of your folly. You haven’t +seen King Smith, but I have—and he means to +take my life to-night. Oh, what’s the good of +talking to you boozers? Where’s Pryce? +Where’s Sir John?”</p> + +<p>“Ask the waiter,” said Mast.</p> + +<p>“Look here, old friend, I’ll tell you. Pryce +and Sir John went out to find Duncombe,” +said Lord Charles. “Duncombe’s been stopping +out all night. Naughty, naughty! And +won’t he catch it from Sir Jonathan Gasbags? +Jaw, jaw, jaw! Lordy, I had some of it +yesterday! I say, Bassett, has anything really +been happening? Because, if so, I should like +to be in it. Why, there they are!”</p> + +<p>Sir John and Dr Soames Pryce entered from +the verandah. Mast and Bassett both began<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +to speak at once, angrily and in a high voice. +Lord Charles Baringstoke gave a quite good +imitation of a north-country pitman encouraging +a dog-fight. The noise was terrific. +Members came out from the reading-room to +see what was happening. Servants paused on +the stairs to watch.</p> + +<p>Sir John’s walking-cane came down with a +crack on the table before him. “Silence!” +he roared. And he got it.</p> + +<p>“Now then,” he said severely, “is this a +club or a bear-garden? You—members of +the committee—behaving like this? Now, +Mr Bassett. Now, sir, I’ll hear you first. +And don’t shout, please.”</p> + +<p>“A most serious thing has happened, Sir +John. I fear that we’re done for. I must see +you and Dr Pryce in private about it. And +the whole thing’s due to the damned folly of +this man Mast.”</p> + +<p>The champagne bottle whizzed past his +head, missing him by a hair’s-breadth and +smashing on the opposite wall. Mast would +have followed up the attack, but he met a +quick fist with the weight of Dr Pryce behind +it; the lounge-chair on which he fell collapsed +under him, and he lay sprawling on the floor.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p> + +<p>“You all seem very excited,” said Dr Pryce, +cheerfully. “I would suggest, Sweetling, that +you and Mr Bassett go off to his room, and I’ll +join you there in a minute.”</p> + +<p>“Very well,” said Sir John. “Come on, +Mr Bassett. This must be discussed quietly.”</p> + +<p>“Get up, old cockie,” said Dr Pryce, extending +a hand to Mast. “Made up your +mind to bring disgrace on the cloth this +morning, haven’t you? You’ve been drinking +too much. Go and lie down for a bit—you +can’t stand it, you know.”</p> + +<p>“You’re a good chap, Pryce,” said Mast. +“Perhaps I can stand it and perhaps I can’t. +But I’m going on with it for this day anyhow. +Thomas, I say, where’s Thomas?”</p> + +<p>“Go to the devil your own way then,” said +Pryce, and followed Sir John and Mr Bassett.</p> + +<p>Lord Charles Baringstoke turned to the on-lookers. +“Seem very cross, don’t they?” +he said. “Now is anybody going to stand +me one little brandy before I go up to bathe +my sinful body?”</p> + +<p>In the secretary’s room Bassett’s story was +told at length. Sir John listened to it with +gravity and Dr Soames Pryce with a sardonic +smile. In the main Bassett stuck to the facts,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +but he lied when he said that Mast was drunk +when he brought Lechworthy to the club. +“I left Lechworthy with King Smith, and he +can’t have got back to the <i>Snowflake</i>. So I +suppose that he’s with the King now.”</p> + +<p>“Most likely,” said Sir John, drumming +on the table with his nails. “See, Pryce? +Remember what I said? Well, the King’s +got into touch at last. Lord knows what +Lechworthy was doing here, though.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Pryce. “That is so. The +illustrious visitor will stop at His Majesty’s +official residence. That is why we met that +gang of boys cycling up there.”</p> + +<p>“It was the worst of luck,” whined Bassett. +“If King Smith hadn’t come up just at that +moment I should have saved the situation. +You see that, of course.”</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t,” said Sir John.</p> + +<p>“Bassett, my poor friend,” said Dr Pryce, +“you’ve made every possible blunder. I +can’t think of one that you’ve left out. I’m +not going to argue about it, but it is so. So +don’t brag about saving situations.”</p> + +<p>“You express my own opinion,” said Sir +John. “And the consequences of your +blunders, Bassett, are likely to be serious.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Anyhow, the consequences are serious. +The most serious of all is that my life is +threatened.”</p> + +<p>Dr Pryce laughed.</p> + +<p>“You’ll pardon us if we don’t think so,” +said Sir John. “But you can cheer up, +Bassett. Threatened men sometimes live +long. Remain in the club. It will be well +guarded to-night. Every precaution will be +taken. Smith simply can’t get at you—short +of a general attack on the white men by the +natives, and he won’t risk that. It wouldn’t +suit his book at all just now. Meanwhile, +you appeal to Lechworthy.”</p> + +<p>“Surely he’s the last man in the world +<span class="lock">to—”</span></p> + +<p>“He’s the only man who’s likely to have +much influence with King Smith just now, +and he won’t approve of irregular executions. +If he asks to be allowed to take you back to +England, he’ll probably get you. And it’s +better to go than to die—also, you can probably +give him the slip somewhere or other on +the way.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Bassett, rubbing his chin. +“There’s that. There’s always that.”</p> + +<p>“Look here, Bassett,” said Dr Pryce,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +suddenly, “we shall want four or five good +men to patrol outside from sunset to midnight—sober +men who can shoot and know when to +shoot—Hanson and Burbage are the right +type. Go now and find them.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll do it at once. Shall I bring them +here?”</p> + +<p>“No. Just get their names. I’ll talk to +them later.”</p> + +<p>“And, I say, wouldn’t it be a good thing +if we elected King Smith a member now?”</p> + +<p>“Might as well offer a mad buck-elephant +a lump of sugar. You go and find those +men.”</p> + +<p>“Now,” said Dr Pryce, as soon as Bassett +had gone.</p> + +<p>“Smith will tell Lechworthy everything. +Lechworthy goes home with our names in +his pocket. Therefore he must not go +home.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly. Nor must other people go +home with similar information.”</p> + +<p>“They must not,” said Sir John. “Therefore +we must get a man on board the <i>Snowflake</i>. +That ship must be lost with crew and +passengers. Our man may be able to save +himself or he may not. It’s a devilish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +risky business. Still, money will tempt +people.”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t trust a paid man on that job,” +said Pryce. He reflected a minute. “My +lot’s thrown in with the sinners. Tell you +what, Sweetling—I’ll do it myself.”</p> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + + +<p>The societies that are to be permanent +grow without plan, much as a coral +island grows. The schemed Utopia never +lives; it leaves no room for compromise and +becomes pot-bound; it guards with wise foresight +against numberless events which never +happen, and the unforeseen event blows in +upon it and kills it.</p> + +<p>The Exiles’ Club had never been planned at +all. The first of its members to arrive at +Faloo—Sir John Sweetling—had not the +slightest intention of starting such a club. He +was a man of considerable ability and he had +been clever enough to see that the smash of +his tangled operations was inevitable, and that +any defence would be wasted speciousness. +Recalling to himself a voyage which he had once +made as a young man, he left before the smash +came and while he still had considerable means +at his disposal, even if he had no legal claim +upon them. A chance of that early voyage<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +had shown him Faloo, and it was his intention +to lie concealed in Faloo for two or three years +and then under a different name to resume +his business career in San Francisco.</p> + +<p>He found himself hospitably received by +the priests of a small French mission and by +the King of the island. With the former he +never became on intimate terms, and he took +occasions to tell them more than once that he +was by education and conviction a member of +the Church of England. But he found the +King interesting—in his ambitions and energetic +character, as well as in his education and +appearance, totally unlike any island native +of whom Sir John had ever heard.</p> + +<p>Sir John noted, too, that the island had +considerable natural resources, and that these +were capable of development; labour was in +any case cheap and plentiful, and, if he worked +in with the King, forced labour would also be +available. The King was a poor man, owning +nothing but the land which he had inherited, +within sight of wealth but unable to reach it +for want of the knowledge and capital without +which it was impossible to trade. Sir John +had always assimilated quickly and eagerly +any kind of business knowledge, and he had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +picked up a good deal of useful information +about the island trade; his capital was safe +and at his command. Before long he had +entered into a partnership with the King, and +had purchased from him land and plantations +in one of the most delightful spots in the +island.</p> + +<p>Of natural and inherent vice Sir John had +very little. Crimes of violence and passion +were distasteful to him. A love of money and +position had drawn him gradually into a +career of gross and abominable fraud, but it is +doubtful if he ever saw it as fraud himself—technical +error, committed with the best +intentions, is how he would have characterised +it. In the days of his prosperity at home he +had been rather a generous man. A church in +a London suburb boasted a pulpit of coloured +marble, which had been the gift of Sir John +Sweetling, and the munificence of the donor +had been the subject of a complimentary +reference in a sermon; nor would it be safe to +say that at the time he made this presentation, +though it was practically paid for with stolen +money, he was altogether a hypocrite. He +loved decency and order. He was always +anxious that the proper form should be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +observed. He loathed that slackness of fibre +which leads men to unshaven chins or made-up +neckties. His orderly characteristics remained +fairly constant, even in a soft and enervating +climate, although in other respects, as we have +already seen, circumstances and the Exiles’ +Club considerably modified him. At the time +of his arrival at Faloo he did not realise that he +was cornered. He prepared a return to the +outside world.</p> + +<p>He was soon convinced that not in two or in +twenty years would it be safe for him to show +himself. He had trusted friends in England +who knew at least where letters could be +addressed to him, and they kept him informed. +At his own request he was sent copies of what +the Press had to say about his disappearance. +He read it all with amazement and with +extreme but temporary depression. These +writers, it seemed to him, were actuated by +spite and expressed themselves with virulence. +They ignored facts which should have told, +more or less, in his favour. They credited +him with no honest desire to restore money, +had his speculations been more successful. +They put the worst constructions on these +“technical” lapses. In the case of a pro<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>spectus +they seemed to be unable to distinguish +between deliberate lies and an overstatement +incidental to a sanguine temperament. He +had never said to himself, “Let us steal this +money”; he had merely said, “Let us make +this investment look as attractive as we can.” +And does not every tradesman try to make his +goods look attractive? Is there any close and +ungarnished accuracy about the ordinary +advertisement? Sir John felt angry and sore +at the view which had been taken; but he +put his San Francisco scheme aside.</p> + +<p>And then gradually were interwoven the +cords which bound him to Faloo for ever. +Two men, who had been personal friends of +Sir John’s and associated with him in business, +skipped their bail and joined him at Faloo. +It was natural and convenient that the three +men should live together, and their house was +the nucleus of the building which afterwards +became the Exiles’ Club. Through them +came a further widening of the circle. The +secret was kept for the discreet, and among +them was a city solicitor. He knew when to +talk about it. He had among his clients +families of the highest respectability, and all +such families have their black sheep. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +Colonies might prove inhospitable and America +too inquisitive, but there was always Faloo—for +people who could afford to get there and to +live there. To Sir John belonged the prestige +of the explorer and pioneer; it was to him +that the new-comer came for advice, and +occasionally for investment. Sir John sold +part of his interest in the island trade to a +syndicate, and part of his land to the white +community, taking in each case such profit +as his conscience allowed. His abilities, too, +were admitted. He was a born organiser. +It pleased and amused him to undertake the +work of providing European luxuries in an +almost unknown island hundreds of miles +from anywhere. His judgment was unerring +in welcoming any desirable addition to the +fraternity and in arranging for the speedy +deportation of the undesirable. Men with +no money or education were as a rule excluded. +“We want gentlemen here,” said +Sir John, and struck the right note at once. +But he saw the usefulness of that ex-waiter +from the Cabinet Club, and Thomas had no +trouble in making good his position on the +island.</p> + +<p>The position of director and adviser rather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +pleased Sir John; the position of President of +the Exiles’ Club pleased him far more and +sealed him to Faloo. It was a chance suggestion +which led to the formation of the club. +Six men sat over their Sauterne and oysters one +evening and listened to the music of the surf. +Presently one of them (nobody afterwards +remembered which one) said, “Sort of little +club of exiles, ain’t we?”</p> + +<p>There was a moment’s pause, and then Sir +John, already with a foretaste of the presidential +manner, said, “Well, gentlemen, it +rests with you. I’m ready to put my money +down if you others are. The thing can be +done, and done well. Club-house and grounds, +decent service, everything comfortable and in +order. Why not?”</p> + +<p>They discussed it during the greater part +of that night, and they all worked very hard +at it during the month that followed, planning +and superintending the construction of the +only two-storied building on the island. Sir +John had always been a great gardener, and +Blake, one of the earliest arrivals, had made +a hobby of his workshop. The special knowledge +proved very useful. Sir John was told +that English turf was impossible. “We shall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +have our lawn just the same,” said Sir John. +And ultimately, at great trouble and expense, +they did have it.</p> + +<p>The club never had any other President +than Sir John. If Smith, as the white men +called him, was the hereditary king of the +natives, Sir John was by common consent the +symbol of authority for the white men. Lord +Charles Baringstoke had not a respectful +manner, and frequently alluded to Sir John +Sweetling as Jonathan Gasbags, but he would +never have dreamed of opposing his annual +re-election to the presidency.</p> + +<p>Customs grew as convenience demanded, +and rules were made as they were wanted. +The rules were kept almost invariably by +every member of the club; a reprimand from +Sir John was sufficient to prevent the repetition +of any lapse, and the feeling of the +majority of members was always against the +transgressor. At first sight this may seem +extraordinary. There was but one man in the +club who was not wanted by the police. It +included men like Lord Charles Baringstoke, +who did not possess, and never had possessed, +any moral sense. There were others, like +Cyril Mast, who had killed what was good in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +them and become slaves to the most ignoble +indulgences. There were members who +seemed for ever on the verge of an outbreak +of maniacal violence, and there were some who +were at times sunk in a suicidal melancholy. +It might have been foretold that such a club +would be doomed to destruction by the riot +and rebellion of its own members. But that +forecast would have proved incorrect.</p> + +<p>It is, after all, a commonplace that when +anarchy has removed all existing laws and +government, the construction of a fresh +government and new laws will next have to +occupy its attention. Those who had rebelled +against an elaborate legal system, bore with +patience the easier yoke which was devised +for their own special needs, and often at their +own suggestion and instigation, in the island +of Faloo. Too high an ideal was not set for +them. Every form of gambling was permitted, +except gambling on credit. Among +the exiles there was neither bet nor business +unless the money was in sight. Intoxication +was frequent with some of the members, and +was not condemned, but it was recognised that +its propriety was a matter of time and place. +As ritual survives religion, etiquette survives<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +morality, and no member of the Exiles’ Club +would have committed the offence of tipping +a club servant; nor would he have stormed at +a waiter however bad the service might have +been, but would simply have backed his bill. +There was no definite rule against profanity, +and its use was common enough, but there +were two or three men in the club—one of them +murdered his own mother—in whose presence +the rest kept a certain check on their tongues. +The principle was generally accepted that the +life of a member, so far as it concerned other +members, began with his arrival at Faloo. +Confidences were not sought; if, as rarely +happened, they were volunteered they were +not welcomed, lest they should demand confidences +in return. Briefly, the men, troubled +no longer with a complex civilisation, had made +for themselves their simple conditions of life, +and such law as was involved by those conditions +they respected.</p> + +<p>Two other considerations made for the permanence +and well-being of the club. Few +of its members were habitual criminals; they +were mostly men who had ruined their lives +with one thing, and in other matters had been +normally respectable, and even over the worst<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +men in the club the climate seemed to exercise +a curiously quieting and mollifying influence. +Secondly, it was very generally realised that +Faloo was the last station, the jumping-off +place. There was nothing beyond it, and there +was no other chance.</p> + +<p>Sir John had already stated at the election +meeting some of the reasons which bound him +to Faloo. It may be added that he thoroughly +enjoyed his position. The society in which +he lived was small, but it held itself to be the +superior society of the island, and it bestowed +on him the first place. He had been the great +man of his suburb, and he found it to be almost +equally satisfactory to be the great man of +Faloo. The exploitation of a native king was +work which was quite to his taste, and at the +same time it was easy work. Shrewd and educated +though the King was, he showed himself +quite native, and pathetically ignorant at +first in matters of business. Sir John had but +to say that this or that was common form, or +the usual European practice, and the King +accepted it at once. But the King learned +quickly, and at a later period he had about +taken Sir John’s measure, as Sir John himself +was aware.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p> + +<p>Nor had Sir John any delusions about his +fellow-members. His manner was genial; he +would gamble and drink (in moderation) with +the sinners. But in his heart he despised +most of them. They had never had the great +idea and the Napoleonic collapse. Their +weakness and not their strength had been their +ruin. It was not their mind but their body +that had run away with them. Sir John had +not lived the life of an ascetic, far from it, +but his tastes were in favour of a decent reserve +and a sufficient moderation. From no man +will the slave of the flesh receive more hearty +contempt than from the man of the world; +and in the difficult task of his reclamation it +may be that the sneer of the worldling has +sometimes effected more than the tears of the +spiritual.</p> + +<p>Yet even in his contempt for many of his +fellow-members he found some source of +gratification. He liked to wonder where on +earth they would have been without him, and +to feel his sense of responsibility increased. +From their depth he could contemplate with +the more satisfaction his own eminence.</p> + +<p>But there were a few members whom Sir +John could regard with more respect. Bassett,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +for instance, had worked admirably for the +club, and had shown something of Sir John’s +own talent for organisation. He had now +lost his head in a crisis and acted, Sir John +considered, like a fool. However, he would +get a good scare—Sir John doubted if the King +had really intended more than that—and +would not be likely to act on impulse again. +Then there was Hanson, a quiet man and an +ardent chess-player. He had character and +ability, and Sir John hoped that he would +one day replace the Rev. Cyril Mast on the +committee. Mast had a gift for public speaking, +and owed his election to it, but Sir John +found him quite useless. Probably the man +whom Sir John liked most, respected most, +trusted most and understood least was Dr +Pryce.</p> + +<p>The men were as different as possible. Dr +Pryce had never shown the slightest interest +in the working of the syndicate which financed +Smith, although he was a member of it. He +had been approached by Sir John on the subject, +had put down his money without inquiry, +and apparently had never thought about the +subject again. In an ordinary way Sir John +would have taken this as evidence that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +man was a fool, but Pryce’s rather various +abilities could not be doubted. The doctor’s +contempt for vain assumption sometimes +wounded Sir John, who habitually called his +own vain assumptions by prettier names. +Pryce never pretended to be any better than +his fellow-members, nor had he that not uncommon +form of perverted vanity which made +a man like Mast pretend sometimes to be the +greatest of sinners. Sir John had a sufficiency +of physical courage for ordinary uses, but +Pryce had shown himself on many occasions +to be absolutely reckless of his own life. This +had occurred not only in such forms of sport +as the island afforded, but more frequently in +the practice of his science; the island offered +drugs that were not in the pharmacopœia, and +Pryce, in his enthusiastic study of them, did not +stop short at experiments upon himself. It +was a great thing, Sir John felt, to have an +able and qualified doctor in the club, and with +his customary generosity he suggested that a +consignment of drugs and apparatus from +London for the doctor should be charged to the +club account. Pryce replied that his little +box of rubbish was paid for already, and +changed the subject.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p> + +<p>The present crisis in the club’s affairs +brought out strongly the changes in Sir John’s +character. The cornered rat was showing +fight. Sir John contemplated the destruction +of the <i>Snowflake</i> and all aboard her without +the faintest feeling of remorse. But Pryce’s +careless offer to undertake the work did not +satisfy him.</p> + +<p>The man who scuttled the <i>Snowflake</i> in mid-ocean +would probably be committing suicide; +Sir John had no doubt about that. And +Pryce was too valuable to lose. Why, Sir +John himself might be taken ill at any time. +There was a queer form of island fever, as to +which he was nervous. The King himself had +suffered from it.</p> + +<p>And on further consideration Sir John +doubted the feasibility of the scheme. By +this time Lechworthy probably knew all about +the Exiles’ Club, and would see for himself +the danger that he represented to them; Bassett’s +attempt to murder him would have +illuminated the question. Under the circumstances +it was unlikely that he would allow +any member of the club on board the <i>Snowflake</i>, +unless possibly his religious feelings were +involved and that member played the part<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +of a repentant and converted sinner. And +Sir John knew that Pryce would not do that.</p> + +<p>“We’ll think about it, Pryce,” he said +finally. “There may be some other way. +Something may turn up.”</p> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + + +<p>The King’s house was built bungalow +fashion. The rooms were large and +lofty, and opened on to a broad verandah; +the furniture was scanty but sufficient, and +much of it was of native workmanship; only +in the bedrooms did the Auckland-imported +suites reign supreme. The walls were hung +with printed cloths or matting woven in +intricate and elaborate designs. In every +room banks of flowers gave audacious but +splendid colour, and young palms yielded a +cool green relief. The garden was not less +lovely because many of its natural features +had been left unaltered. The little stream +that leaped from the crag into the pool twelve +feet below had fallen, just there and just so, +long before the exiles had come to Faloo, long +before the King’s grandfather had died—of +alcohol and excessive passions. The white +paths curved and twisted through innumerable +shrubberies, and lost themselves in deep cool<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +shade. Here and there were broad stretches +of tufty unmown grass, and long hedges of +hibiscus aflame with scarlet.</p> + +<p>Hilda was principally fascinated by all that +was native. The extremely fine work of the +matting on the walls interested her, the great +garden enthralled her. To Tiva and Ioia it +was more remarkable that for the first time +in their lives they had seen themselves reflected +in a full-length mirror; this wonder of civilisation +adorned the wardrobe in Hilda’s room. +Mr Lechworthy, attended by King Smith, +noted with great satisfaction that his room +possessed a spring mattress and a tin bath, and +that his Bible, his camera and his clothes had +arrived safely. Even as he examined them +a letter was handed to him which a messenger +from the Exiles’ Club had just brought. It +was an agonised letter from Bassett, repeating +that he had fired by accident, proclaiming the +deepest repentance for his past life, expressing +his desire to return with Lechworthy to England +and there to stand his trial. Lechworthy +handed it to King Smith.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said the King, when he had read it. +“There is no truth in it at all.”</p> + +<p>“None, I am afraid. I note his account of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +the accident varies in one particular from what +he said before.”</p> + +<p>“There was no accident. I saw the man’s +hands.”</p> + +<p>“And yet, sir, I ask you once more to give +me that man’s life. I cannot stand the idea +of a British subject being executed like this—at +a few hours’ notice, without trial, guilty in +many ways but not of the capital offence. He +may not be fit to live but he is not fit to +die.”</p> + +<p>“Great Britain has nothing to do here; if +she had Bassett would not be here.”</p> + +<p>“True enough, sir. I know it. I’m not +saying that he is not amenable to the law of +this island, made and administered by yourself. +I am merely, as your guest, asking for a +favour. How can I dine with you to-night, +smoke my pipe and have my talk with you in +peace, if I know this poor wretch is perhaps +at that very hour being executed?”</p> + +<p>King Smith smiled. “Very well,” he said. +“To-night I am going to ask you to save the +lives of many of my race—I might even say +the race itself. This worthless thing—this +Bassett—I will give you. You will take him +home and see that he stands his trial?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Certainly. On that I insist. He must +take his punishment.”</p> + +<p>“Write to him that you have saved his life, +but that this is conditional on his surrendering +to the man who will await him at the gates +of the club enclosure some time before midnight. +He can bring his personal belongings +with him; you see I give him time to get his +things together, and to clear up his business +as secretary of the club. You may say further +that he will not be ill-treated, but that he will +be kept in custody until you choose to sail.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, sir, from the bottom of my +heart. You have taken a great weight off +my mind. I will write to him precisely in +those terms. May I have a messenger?”</p> + +<p>“There are many men here,” said the King, +“and they are here only as your servants, to +go where you like and to do what you wish. +They understand that.”</p> + +<p>The King was deep in thought as he drove +back to his business residence on the beach. +There he became busy. He remembered to +send up to his big house the preserved asparagus +which would be wanted for dinner. He +examined with care a still that was then +working. He saw the overseer from his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +plantations inland. He calculated the number +of bags of copra that would be ready for his +next schooner. He settled a dispute between +two natives as to the ownership of a goat. +But he gave no orders for a man to be at the +gates of the club enclosure shortly before +midnight, nor did he give, nor had he given, +any orders whatever about Bassett.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon, up at the palace, Tiva, Ioia +and Hilda explored the garden, and the native +girls discovered with joy the wide pool into +which the waterfall plashed. They begged +Hilda to come for a swim with them. The idea +was certainly alluring, but for two reasons +Hilda demurred. One was the presence of a +patrol of athletic-looking natives with rifles +on their shoulders, but this reason was disposed +of at once.</p> + +<p>“We speak him,” cooed Tiva. “He go +pretty dam quick.” And it was so.</p> + +<p>The other reason vanished before the resources +of the rather fantastic wardrobe which +Ioia had brought with her. Two hours later +Hilda sat on the verandah with her wet hair +loose. She had considered herself fairly expert +in the water, but Tiva and Ioia quite eclipsed +her; there had seemed to be absolutely nothing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +which they could not do, and they did everything +with the most beautiful ease and grace. +Hilda rather wished she had been a sculptor. +The two water-nymphs now sat at her feet—Tiva +in a loose salmon-coloured robe, with a +gold bangle on one arm, and Ioia in a similar +robe of olive-green surmounted by a barbarous +kimono. The bangle and the kimono were +Hilda’s gifts. The hurricane had passed as +quickly as it had come, and far away before +her Hilda could see a sea of marvellous +sapphire, foam-streaked, trying to be good +again.</p> + +<p>Lechworthy spent much of his time that +afternoon in his room alone. Then he roamed +the garden, camera in hand. He took three +snapshots of the armed patrol, and he took +them all on the same section of film. But, +not yet aware of this little mistake, he was +in a placid and even sunny temper when he +came on to the verandah for tea. Tiva and +Ioia, commanded by Hilda, took tea with +them; Ioia tried most things, including tea-leaves, +which she ate with moderation but +with apparent enjoyment. Then the two +sang—a beautiful voice and a correct ear are +part of the island girl’s natural inheritance—and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +Hilda and her uncle listened. The song +was in the native tongue and for the most +part improvised, and perhaps it was just as +well that the listeners did not understand it. +It was wholly in praise of Hilda, but it praised +her with a wealth of detail unusual in European +eulogies.</p> + +<p>Bassett at the Exiles’ Club received Lechworthy’s +reply to his letter shortly after the +luncheon hour. Bassett himself was unable +to eat luncheon; he was sick with fear. He +grew worse every hour. His nerves had +broken down. Sir John and Dr Soames Pryce +had taken all possible means to safeguard +Bassett’s life, for that night at any rate. +Every member in whom reliance could be +placed was ready to help. From ten to twelve +Bassett was to remain in the secretary’s room. +There would be a guard outside both window +and door. All over the club garden a watch +would be kept. To protect him from poison +his food and drink were to be tasted by native +servants. Preparations were made to deal +with any sudden outbreak of fire.</p> + +<p>“Can’t you pull yourself together a little?” +said Dr Pryce, utterly weary of him.</p> + +<p>“Everything you’ve done’s no good,” said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +Bassett. “I know King Smith, and he does +what he says. You can’t stop him.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be a fool, Bassett,” said Sir John. +“King Smith is a man and he cannot do +miracles. You probably will never be safer +in your life than you will be to-night. For +that matter, your letter to Lechworthy may +get you off altogether.”</p> + +<p>Bassett began to weep. He was a humiliating, +distressing, repellent spectacle. Dr +Soames Pryce ordered brandy to be brought, +and forced him to take a stiff dose.</p> + +<p>He then became sullen and morose. He said +that he wished he had not taken the brandy. +Drink was the curse of more than half the men +in the club, and he thanked God he had never +given way to it. Then he became suspicious +of the revolver which had been given him. +How was he to know it was all right? Finally +he exchanged weapons with Sir John.</p> + +<p>The arrival of the letter from Lechworthy +did nothing to inspirit him. He read it aloud.</p> + +<p>“There you are, you see,” said Sir John. +“Sentence commuted. Aren’t you ashamed +of yourself for behaving in this way? I told +you Lechworthy would get you off.”</p> + +<p>“Get me off?” said Bassett. “Do you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +mean to say you can’t see that this thing’s a +trap? A little before midnight I’m to hand +myself over to some man at the gates. He +takes me away. Oh, yes! Good-bye all! +How long afterwards do you suppose I shall +be alive?”</p> + +<p>“Do you think Lechworthy would trap +you in that way?”</p> + +<p>“How should I know? He’s got no particular +reason to love me, has he? But what’s +most likely is that Lechworthy himself has +been deceived by King Smith.”</p> + +<p>“That won’t do, Bassett. The deceit would +be found out next day. King Smith, on the +contrary, is most anxious to do all that he can +to please Lechworthy and to win him over. +What do you think, Pryce?”</p> + +<p>“That is so. The letter is quite genuine. +Bassett will hand himself over to the man, +<span class="lock">and—”</span></p> + +<p>“I will not,” screamed Bassett.</p> + +<p>“You will,” said Pryce. “You will be +made to do it. You see the situation that +way, Sweetling, don’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Of course I do. Listen to me, Bassett. +You have asked the King to spare your life, +and offered in return to hand yourself over to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +Lechworthy. He spares your life, and imposes +a condition which amounts to what you +offered—he is merely making certain that you +do hand yourself over to Lechworthy. What +do you think will happen when the King finds +that he has been fooled and that you have +broken your word? My friend, in that case +he would get you, even if it were necessary to +set all the natives on us to-night, as he could +do. He would get you, and I fancy he would +adopt barbarous ways of killing you. Therefore, +you will be at the gates shortly before +midnight—even if you have to be carried +there.”</p> + +<p>“It comes to this,” said Bassett, “that I’m +betrayed by you two.” His shoulders shook, +the nails of his yellow hands beat the table +convulsively, his thin lips twitched sideways +and upwards.</p> + +<p>“Bassett,” said Dr Soames Pryce, “try to +behave a little more like a man, won’t you? +This sort of show isn’t—it’s not very pretty, +you know. I give you my word of honour +that I believe your life’s safe if you’ll only do +what the King tells you. You’ll have to go +on board the <i>Snowflake</i>, of course, but you’ll +get a chance to give Lechworthy the slip long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +before he gets to England. Then you’ll come +back here—you’ve got the money to do it with. +If it’s any consolation to you, I may tell you +that I shall probably be on the schooner +myself—private business of my own—and I’ll +see that you get your opportunity.”</p> + +<p>“You on board too? How? What business +do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“I think I said private business of my +own.”</p> + +<p>“I see. Something I’m not to know about. +Another conspiracy against me, eh? Here, +give me that brandy.” He nearly filled his +tumbler with it, and drank it in quick, excited +ugly gulps. He rose to his feet and shook a +skinny fist. “You two fools! Do you think +I can’t see? Smith has bought you. All the +jabber about protecting me was a farce, and +Lechworthy’s letter was a put-up thing between +you. If I go, I die. If I stay, I die. Pretty +thing, ain’t it? You swindled me over the +lizards, Pryce, and thought I didn’t know. +But, my God, I haven’t got a friend, and I +know that! You needn’t look so angry, Sir +John. You’ve been bowled out before. You’re +used to it. Well, all right. I go to-night. +Good-bye all! I’m off to my own room—special<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +leave from King Smith to pack the +shirts I’ll never wear. Good-bye! We’ll meet +in hell.”</p> + +<p>He flung himself out of the room, across the +hall, and up the stairs. Lord Charles Baringstoke +was seated in the hall, drinking through +a straw a mixture of <i>crême-de-menthe</i> and +crushed ice. He observed Mr Bassett, and he +turned to Mr Sainton—the member who was +paying for the drinks.</p> + +<p>“See our Mr damned Bassett? Well, you +know, I ain’t the champion gold cup at the +beauty show myself, but I never did know anyone +look quite so blessed ugly as that chap +does. Might use him to test iron girders, eh? +Mean he might grin at them, and if they’d +stand that, they’d stand anything.”</p> + +<p>In the room which Bassett had just left +Sir John Sweetling controlled his rage with +difficulty.</p> + +<p>“Look here, Pryce,” said Sir John. “We’ve +done the best we can for the man, but this lets +me out. If I see him again before he goes I—I +can’t answer for what will happen.”</p> + +<p>Dr Soames Pryce rolled a cigarette. “The +beauty of being a doctor,” he said, “is that +you can’t lose your wool with your case—whatever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +he, or she, does or says. Bassett, +under pressure, has become a case. And, as +I don’t think it safe to leave him alone, I’ll +hop upstairs after him. See you presently.”</p> + +<p>On the stairs Dr Pryce heard the report of a +revolver. He arrived just ten seconds too +late.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>The King and Mr Lechworthy dined alone +that night. Hilda discovered, rather suddenly, +that she was absolutely worn out with the +long day. Tiva and Ioia, watching her, spoke +one or two sentences together in the native +tongue. Then Tiva explained to Hilda in +English that she and Ioia had spread their +sleeping-mats on the verandah just against +Hilda’s window. If Hilda wanted them at +any time in the night she had only to go to the +window and speak, and they would be with +her at once. Hilda thanked them, but she +was sure she would not need them. She left +with her uncle her apologies to the King.</p> + +<p>Mr Lechworthy’s dress was just precisely +what he would have worn in the evening in +London. The King wore a tropical evening +suit of white drill; he had ridden up from the +office and changed his clothes at the palace.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +The two men dined early—a brief and tasteful +dinner composed principally of native dishes. +And then Lechworthy filled his pipe, and they +took their coffee on the verandah, and talked +long and seriously.</p> + +<p>It was of the death of the native races that +the King spoke—and of his own ambition, that +Faloo should become a refuge for them from +the deadly effects of civilisation, that in the +future no white man should ever be allowed +to set foot there. Let Great Britain undertake +just that work of protection and close the +island definitely to all but the natives. Let +her say that neither British nor French nor +German, nor any other white man, might land +there. King Smith said that he knew little of +the conditions that might be demanded, but if +Great Britain wished him to renounce his +title of King he would resign it willingly; +if tribute were wanted, he would see that it +was paid punctually. All he asked was Great +Britain’s guarantee that in Faloo the island +people should be left absolutely to themselves, +to live their own life in the old way, and so to +escape the racial destruction that was coming +swiftly upon them.</p> + +<p>He laid before Lechworthy the pictorial<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +evidence of travellers and the unimpassioned +figures of the statistics. Everywhere in the +islands, as civilisation advanced, the native +race died out. The King made no attack upon +civilisation, wasted no time in idle epigrams. +Civilisation might have all the merits and all +the advantages, but it had been proved in cold +history that the island races could not accept +it. In childish and rather pathetic good-will +they had tried to accept it, and in consequence +many had died out and the rest were dying.</p> + +<p>It was not merely a question of drink. It +was true, of course, that alcohol, which harmed +the habituated European, quickly demoralised +and killed the unhabituated islanders. But +there was hardly a part of civilisation that did +not help to kill him. Civilisation called him +from the open air into houses where he was +poisoned and stifled. It clothed his partial +nakedness with European stuffs and pneumonia +followed. It gave him things to learn for +which his mind was unfit, and he became +obtuse and devitalised. Nature had spared +him and put him in places where food and such +shelter as he needed might be had free or for +a minimum of labour; civilisation put a stress +upon him and paid him in luxuries that were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +bad for him. Tinned meat and multiplication +tables, gin and geography, feather beds and +tight boots, worry and hypocrisy, everything +worked together for bad for the islander. +Civilisation increased his needs and sapped his +powers. He went down, down inevitably, in +his struggle with it.</p> + +<p>“Excuse me, sir,” said Lechworthy. “What +you say is true; I have heard something of this +before, though far less than you have told me. +But your own case hardly supports your argument.”</p> + +<p>“I know it. I admit that I am quite exceptional. +Heredity may have something to +do with it. There is a legend of white blood +in my family, a long way back. It may be so +or it may not—such inter-marriages do not +generally have a good result. But my grandfather +died of drink, and my father was a very +great friend of the missionaries. So perhaps +I was born—what is the word?—yes, perhaps +I was born immune. There are no missionaries +here now, except the two French priests, and +they do nothing; you see, they have grown old +and very, very fat.”</p> + +<p>“Your father then—he was a convert?”</p> + +<p>“The missionaries thought so, and he did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +what they liked; you see, he was a good friend +to them, and they taught him. My father +could read English, and he spoke it too, but +not very correctly. He was a kind man, but +he was not very much converted, I think. +He began to teach me when I was quite young, +and always I wanted to learn more. It was +he who showed me what the white man is doing +in these islands. So it is very many years +since I first thought that Faloo is not a great +island, and had been left over, and perhaps I +might in time secure it so that it should be the +last home of my people, lest they all died. +And I have gone on thinking it always; it is +for that that I have done good and also bad +things.”</p> + +<p>“But you speak English remarkably, sir. +You did not learn it from your father alone.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no. For nearly ten years the Exiles’ +Club has been here, and I have been the friend +of the white men just as my father in his time +was the friend of the missionaries. The men +of the Exiles’ Club came to me, and there was +always whisky and cigars and whatever they +wanted. So they would sit and talk with me. +That Mr Cyril Mast came very often. Most +days he is very bad and also drunken. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +he is beautifully educated, and he told me +much about England. Sometimes Sir John +Sweetling, who started the club, would talk +about your financial world, though it was +mostly on our joint business he came to see me. +This Bassett also talked. Even Lord Charles +<span class="lock">Baringstoke—”</span></p> + +<p>“What? Is that young scamp here?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and even from him I have learned +something. But the best man of all of them +is Dr Soames Pryce. He is very able and he is +different from the others. When I was ill +with an island fever he came to see me and +he gave me medicines, and very soon I was well +again. But when I would have paid him he +told me to go to the devil. I think it was +because he has sometimes drunk whisky with +me, but not so often as I should like, for I +think he knows very much, and he is the only +one whose word I altogether believe.”</p> + +<p>So far Mr Lechworthy had expressed no +opinion; he was rather miserly with expression +until he had well weighed his subject. +But he had already formed his opinions. +Firstly, the King was simple and sincere. He +spoke plainly and without hypocrisy. He had +not shirked the fact that his father was not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +really converted to Christianity, or that he +himself had been a boon companion of these +blackguards at the Exiles’ Club. He had +never emphasised the point that he wanted +nothing for himself and everything for his +people; he had treated this attitude as a +matter of course, and, had not dwelt upon it. +Secondly, the project of Faloo for the people of +Faloo, with their independence supported by +Great Britain, appealed to him greatly. We +had done enough grabbing for unworthy ends. +We had become a byword in that respect. +It was a great thing to save a race; it was an +idea which might arouse an enthusiasm, and +that in its turn might become useful in practical +politics. The missionary question presented +to his mind the only difficulty at present. +However, he would hear the whole story.</p> + +<p>The next chapter of that story dealt with +Smith’s start as a trader. It went back to the +time of Sir John Sweetling’s arrival at Faloo; +two other white men had followed him there +within the year. He narrated his dealings +with Sir John and with the syndicate which +was subsequently formed. The financial control +of the business was practically shifted to +a distant island, where there was a bank with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +a cast-iron method and a Commissioner who +could enforce agreements. The King, young +and inexperienced, had signed the instructions +to the bank and had signed the iniquitous +agreements. He had put the noose on his own +neck.</p> + +<p>But one hold on his partners he retained, or +the noose would have been drawn tight long +before. They lived at Faloo, and there was +probably no other part of the globe where they +could have lived with the same safety and +comfort. They were in consequence largely +dependent on the King of Faloo; he alone could +control the natives. Consequently, concessions +were made to him on points where he had insisted. +The dangerous but remunerative contraband +trade had been a case in point; he +had refused to allow any native of Faloo to +buy liquor; he had even safeguarded the +native servants employed at the Exiles’ Club. +After one week—in which the King had left +the club without any native servants at all—its +members learned wisdom.</p> + +<p>In the actual conduct of the business he had +not had to complain of much interference. +He was free to settle all the details of it and +to do all the work of it. It was called his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +business—not their business. But his partners’ +veto came in from time to time, and gradually +he had realised that he was held back. Trade +was not to be extended. The reef was not to +be opened up. He was never to be rich enough +to buy out his own partners and to be independent +of them. Here and there he could +tempt one of the investors by an appeal to his +cupidity—Bassett had been such a man. But +the more important interest, represented by +Sir John, had stuck always to the same policy—to +keep a control over King Smith, and to +prevent Faloo from developing a trade of +sufficient importance to attract outside +attention. For instance, the amount of copra +that might be exported was not regulated by +what could be produced and sold, but by a +decision of the King’s partners; and they had +no wish to bring the great soap-making firms +down on Faloo.</p> + +<p>And then the idea had come to him that he +might be able to split up the white men, create +differences among them, and perhaps form a +party of his own. It was with this view that +he had persuaded some of them to support his +candidature for membership of the Exiles’ +Club, and had lent money to some of the re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>mittance +men and had refused it to others. +“And perhaps I might have done something +with that, but in the meanwhile, without intending +it, the white men have split up my +own people. There is now a certain number +of natives who are acting without any order +from me, and even against my order. They +have no hostility towards me, and they act +secretly because they are all afraid of me. +Their aim is to kill all the white men on the +island. They killed one last night—I buried +him early this morning. I will tell you how +that has come about.” And the King narrated, +with more detail than need be given here, the +trouble about the native women.</p> + +<p>“I have only kept my people in hand up to +this point by promising them that a day should +come when not one white man would be left on +the island if only they would be patient. If +they used violence, then my plans would be +spoiled—they would be punished—the men-of-war +would come—the whole island would fall +into the white man’s hands. And, Mr Lechworthy, +even if you had not come I should have +kept my word, for when a man wants only one +thing, and wants it very badly, he must get it +in the end. But I no longer have the whole<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +of my people in hand. There must be some—I +think they are few—who have not enough +patience. I cannot blame them in my heart, +although as soon as I find them I shall kill +them. I cannot, I say, blame them in my +heart, for there are wrongs which drive a +man mad, and these are just the wrongs of +which the white men have been guilty. That +then is the position here—a section of my +people is in secret rebellion against me, and it +is to the Exiles’ Club that I owe this. And +look—I have but to give one brief order, and +in an hour the club would be burned to the +ground and every white man in it would be +murdered. There are times when I have been +tempted. But I always knew that it was not +so that I should make the Faloo of my dreams—not +in that way that I should gain the +friendship and the help—the indispensable +help—of Great Britain.”</p> + +<p>He paused a moment, drank from the long +glass before him, and lighted another cigarette.</p> + +<p>“There is the story, Mr Lechworthy. I +have worked for a good thing, but it is as I +said: I have used a bad implement and it has +hurt my hand, and perhaps I must burn the +wound with a little gunpowder before it will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +be whole again. You can save us all, if you +will. You are a politician and a friend of +politicians of high Cabinet rank. You own a +newspaper. You can arouse public feeling, +and you can direct it. You know how these +things are managed. Perhaps to-morrow you +will decide. To-night I cannot remain much +longer for I have to fetch this man Bassett—if +he is still there.”</p> + +<p>“If he is still there?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. He is a suspicious man and his +nerves are very feeble. He may have distrusted +your letter. He may have run away. +He may have—anything may have happened.”</p> + +<p>“I see. Well, I have done what I could. +There is one little point which I would mention +to-night. These agreements with your +partners are so unjust, and contain such +evidence of bad faith, that I think I could get +them set aside. But all that would take time, +and there is a quicker way. The terms on +which you can buy them out are unfair and +extravagant, but even so the amount of capital +involved is—well—it is not to me a very large +sum. I offer to buy them out and to become +your one partner in their place. I wish to do +this.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I accept it with gratitude,” said the King, +“provided that you understand this: if ever +Faloo is closed, except to its own people, the +trade will stop absolutely. It would then be +unnecessary and a source of danger. The +island itself provides all that a native +wants.”</p> + +<p>“Very well,” said Lechworthy, “I have no +objection. My capital would then be returned +to me. I am anxious to make it possible for +you to drop—the implement that has hurt your +hand. And as for the rest, I can tell you my +position in a few words. I am ready to help +you by all the means in my power; this idea +of the refuge for the race, the island where +it may recuperate itself, appeals to me immensely, +and I think I can make some political +use of it too. But, sir, I have my conscience. +I may shut the door against the white man and +his dangerous civilisation, but I dare not shut +it against the gospel of Christ. There, we +will speak of this to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“I shall be here early in the morning. +Good-night, Mr Lechworthy.”</p> + +<p>At five minutes to twelve the King reined +in his horse at the gates of the club compound. +Dr Soames Pryce stood there alone. It was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +too dark to see the expression of his face, but +his voice sounded sardonic.</p> + +<p>“You have come for your prisoner, King +Smith?”</p> + +<p>“I have.”</p> + +<p>“He has escaped you. He shot himself +this afternoon. You found the man’s breaking-point +all right. Do you want evidence of +his death?”</p> + +<p>“I take your word for it. You know, I +suppose, that he had his chance of life. My +guest, Mr Lechworthy, wrote a <span class="lock">letter—”</span></p> + +<p>“Yes, I know. And the only man who +disbelieved in the letter was Bassett. He +disbelieved in everybody and everything. +Extreme fear had made him insane. By the +way, it was I who stopped your election to +this club, and now I want you to do me a +kindness. Damned awkward, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>The King smiled. “That is not the only +association you have had with me. What is +it you want?”</p> + +<p>“I remember no other association. Oh, yes, +I gave you a few pills once, didn’t I? Well, +I can tell you what I want anyhow. The +fact is that this place is becoming a bit too +hot for my simple tastes, and I want to clear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +out. Duncombe’s missing; we’ve had men +out all day looking for him and he can’t be +found.”</p> + +<p>“I had nothing to do with that.”</p> + +<p>“Very likely. I don’t accuse you. Still, it +happened. Bassett was sentenced and reprieved, +and ended by shooting himself. +Cyril Mast is boozing himself mad; we are +trying to sober him down enough to read the +service over Bassett. Every night we find +natives, who’ve got no business here, skulking +about this place. It’s possible that some of +them will hurt themselves. The pot’ll boil +over presently, and there will be general hell. +I’m a quiet man, and I’d sooner be away. I +wish you’d put in a word for me to this Mr +Lechworthy. If he had room for Bassett he’s +got room for me. I’ll pay my passage, or +work it as doctor or anything else, whichever +he likes. You might put in a word for me.”</p> + +<p>“But why bother Lechworthy? One of +our own boats will be going out again in a few +days’ time.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you. If I wanted to be poisoned +with the stink of copra, and eaten alive with +cockroaches, I’d go by it. The <i>Snowflake’s</i> a +sound clean boat, and I prefer it. The inside<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +will drop out of your schooner one of these +days. She’s all right for trade, but she’s slow, +rotten and nasty.”</p> + +<p>“Very well,” said the King. “I’ll speak +to him about it. But of course the decision +will rest with him.”</p> + +<p>“Of course. Thanks very much.”</p> + +<p>They said good-night and parted, the King +riding on to the office on the beach, and Dr +Pryce returning to Sir John in the club.</p> + +<p>“How goes it?” asked Pryce.</p> + +<p>“Mast is sober now, but he’s pretty shaky. +It seems that his bit of a row with Bassett is +disturbing him, and he’s been weeping. I +say, Pryce, our men are simply going to pap.”</p> + +<p>“Everything else ready for the burial?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Then I’ll give Mast one stiff peg to steady +him, and we’ll start away. By the way, it +was as I thought, it was the King himself +who came to the gate.”</p> + +<p>“Then you spoke about the <i>Snowflake</i>?”</p> + +<p>“Of course. He’ll see Lechworthy about +it.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think he smells a rat?”</p> + +<p>“There are some men who smell rats and +then shout about it, and they don’t generally<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +make fortunes as rat-catchers. Smith’s not +that sort.”</p> + +<p>“You mean?”</p> + +<p>“I mean that I don’t know whether he +suspects or not. I should imagine that he’s +watching out, and so am I, which makes it +quite interesting. Now I’ll go and see if I +can straighten Mast’s backbone a bit.”</p> + +<p>The King certainly had not accepted Pryce’s +statement that he was a quiet man and wished +to run away from fear of a native uprising; +but Pryce might have had other reasons of +which he did not wish to speak, and the real +reason did not occur to the King at all. But +he was suspicious and on his guard. He had +very much to think of and many questions to +ask himself. What line would Sir John take +when he found that he and the other partners +were to be bought out? Would Lechworthy +be obstinate on the question of white missionaries +for Faloo? If this were arranged, would +Lechworthy be able to bring the scheme to a +successful issue? Who was it that had +murdered Duncombe?</p> + +<p>To this last question the King had a simple +means of finding the answer. Knowing the +native mind as he did, he knew that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +murderer would be driven to make some +demonstration of triumph and satisfied +revenge. He would do it secretly, probably +very late at night, but he would find himself +driven to do it. Stealthily and on foot the +King went from one native house to another, +wherever he suspected the criminal might +possibly be.</p> + +<p>It was some hours later that he stood outside +a little shanty and listened to the man who was +singing within. The singer was drunk—drunk +on methylated spirits stolen from the stores +of the Exiles’ Club. The King entered.</p> + +<p>It was just at this time that away at the +palace Hilda Auriol managed to raise herself +a little in bed. “Tiva! Ioia!” she called +and fell back again. In an instant the two +girls entered through the windows from the +verandah.</p> + +<p>“I—I think I am very ill,” moaned Hilda.</p> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + + +<p>Bassett was buried by lantern-light a +little after one in the morning in a far +corner of the club grounds. His was the +fourth grave there, and not one of the four +men had died in his bed. The Rev. Cyril +Mast read the service sonorously, with dignity +and self-control, for Soames Pryce had seen to +him, and Soames Pryce was a clever doctor. +The roughly-made coffin—a wooden framework +with thick mats stretched over it—was +borne by members of the club, and it was +they who had dug the grave and afterwards +filled it in. No native had ever been allowed +to have anything to do with the interment of a +white man.</p> + +<p>Most of the members were present at the +funeral, but not all. Lord Charles Baringstoke +was not there, but he expressed his regrets +afterwards, leaning against the wall in the +card-room with a cigarette in one side of his +loose mouth.</p> + +<p>“I’d always meant to see the beggar planted,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +but, you see, I didn’t know when the thing was +going to start. So we’d one rubber to fill in +time. Then, just when the lights went past +the window, we were game and twenty-eight, +and it looked like our only being five minutes +late anyhow; but I got my spades doubled +and the little slam up against me, and then +they made an odd trick in hearts, and we were +finally bust on a dam-silly no-trumper of my +partner’s. Still, I’m sorry you know, though +it couldn’t be helped. Everybody going to +bed? One more little drink—what?”</p> + +<p>Already on the screen in the hall there was +a notice calling an emergency meeting of the +members in the afternoon for the election of +an honorary secretary who would also be a +member of the committee. Neither Pryce +nor Mast had cared to undertake the secretarial +work.</p> + +<p>Standing by the screen, Sir John Sweetling, +in conversation with some of the more responsible +members of the club, pronounced +the panegyric upon Bassett. “He never, or +very rarely, drank; he liked business, and he +kept the books well.” Sir John paused a +moment in thought, and added, “And he +wrote an excellent hand.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> + +<p>“And paid nodings for it,” said round-eyed +Mr Mandelbaum. “But zen it put him in ze +know.”</p> + +<p>It was long before Sir John could get any +sleep that night. His mind was still active +and anxious. The old questions still bothered +him. What compact, if any, had been made +between King Smith and Lechworthy? Was +it just possible that the King had not given +the Exiles’ Club away? If he had, which +seemed almost certain, would Pryce be able +to carry out what he had undertaken? Would +Pryce be able to save himself when the <i>Snowflake</i> +was scuttled or burned? And then there +were many worries in connection with the +club. Who could be found to take Bassett’s +place? What could be done about Cyril +Mast, whose folly was the cause of all that had +happened? Some advantage might be taken +of his repentance.</p> + +<p>It seemed to Sir John that he had only been +asleep for a few minutes when he was awakened +by a loud knock at his door. It was just daylight. +Sir John was rather startled. He +glanced at his revolver on the table by his +bedside and shouted “Come in.”</p> + +<p>“Sorry to disturb you,” said Dr Pryce, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +he entered. He was dressed, and he sat down +and laced his boots as he talked. “But I’ve +got to be off. A letter was brought to me +ten minutes ago from Lechworthy. His niece +is ill—seriously ill, I should say, and he wants +me at once. He seems to have sent the letter +through the King—at any rate Smith’s waiting +for me in a buggy outside.”</p> + +<p>Sir John was wide awake and out of bed +by now. He thrust his feet into a pair of soft +red leather slippers. He was quite a good +figure of a man, but his tendency to corpulence +was more noticeable in his yellow silk pyjamas, +and one gets untidy at night. “But this is a +new move, Pryce,” he said. “This secures +your passage on the <i>Snowflake</i>.” He peered +into the looking-glass and used two hairbrushes +quickly. Then he suddenly wheeled +round, with the brushes still in his hands. +“By God! it settles everything. You needn’t +go near the <i>Snowflake</i>. Don’t you see?”</p> + +<p>“Thought you’d come to it. You mean +that I poison the girl and her uncle. Smith +has to come back to us because he has no one +else. The skipper and crew will know nothing, +and will be told a tale. That’s it, eh?”</p> + +<p>“Of course, though it needn’t be put quite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +like that. The best of doctors cannot save +every patient. Lechworthy would be distracted, +and a sleeping-draught might be +necessary—and a mistake might occur. That’s +the way I’m going to put it—to Smith, to the +men here, to everybody. You can trust me.”</p> + +<p>“Absolutely. But you’re in too much of +a hurry. I’m not going to do it.”</p> + +<p>“Why not? Because you’re called in as a +doctor? Man, our lives are at stake. Let’s +be frank. I won’t face a trial and penal +servitude to follow. Would you? You were +ready to do much worse than this. It isn’t +a time <span class="lock">for—”</span></p> + +<p>“I know,” said the doctor. He had finished +with his boots now, and stood upright. “It’s +not exactly a point of professional etiquette. +The thing simply isn’t sport. It’s too easy +and too dirty.”</p> + +<p>“But this isn’t reasonable. You’re willing +to sink the <i>Snowflake</i> and—and all that’s +implied in that.”</p> + +<p>“Willing to try. The scuttling of a +schooner is not too easy. Teetotal millionaires +can afford luxuries, and you may bet +there’s a good sober skipper and a picked crew +on board the <i>Snowflake</i>. They will be awake.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +If I were caught cutting a pipe, or fooling with +the sea-cocks, or doing something surgical +to the boats, I think—well, objections would +be raised. Also, the problem of the one +survivor takes some thinking out. It’s likely +there would be too many survivors or none at +all. It’s blackguardly enough, but still there +is an element of risk about it. As for the +other thing, well, to cut it short, I won’t do it.”</p> + +<p>“Then I must leave it,” said Sir John. “I +think you’re missing a chance, but that can’t +be helped. When do you return?”</p> + +<p>“Can’t say. To-night perhaps, if the +patient doesn’t need me. Well, good-bye, +Sweetling. Get ’em to elect Hanson secretary +if you can. If I can’t come I’ll write.”</p> + +<p>Sir John crept back again into bed. He did +not mean to break with Pryce, and he had +shown less anger than he felt. He was not +really surprised at Pryce’s prompt and definite +refusal. He had dealt with many bad men—some +worse than the doctor—and he was a +bad man himself; and he had come constantly +on the bad thing that the bad man would not +do. He had found the distorted sense of +honour in men who had done some dishonourable +things. He had found generosity in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +thieves and tender-heartedness in a murderer. +Even as the good sometimes fall, so do the bad +sometimes rise.</p> + +<p>And, after all, the summons of Dr Pryce +to the palace to attend Lechworthy’s niece was +all to the good. He would be in the position +of a spy in the enemy’s camp. Probably, by +the evening, he would return with news of the +relations of Lechworthy and the King. Uncertainties +would be cleared up, and it would +be easier to see what to do. And yet another +point occurred to Sir John. Suppose that +Pryce saved the life of Lechworthy’s niece, +Lechworthy’s gratitude would be unbounded, +and he would be ready to do anything to show +it. Pryce would refuse money, but he might +ask Lechworthy to leave the Exiles’ Club +alone, to refrain from policeman’s work, +to do nothing which would give the secret +away. Thus thinking, Sir John fell asleep +again.</p> + +<p>He rose late, breakfasted in his room, and +then sought out the Rev. Cyril Mast.</p> + +<p>“I want you,” said Sir John. “Pryce +has been called away, and we are the only two +on the committee for the moment. Come to +the secretary’s room.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Very well,” said Mast, dejectedly, and +followed him.</p> + +<p>The two sat at the table facing one another. +Mast’s red-rimmed eyes fell on the little glass +of small shot with which Bassett had been +wont to clean his pens. He could recall the +nervous jabbing movement of Bassett’s hand as +he did it. Bassett’s three cork penholders +lay in a tray before him.</p> + +<p>“You can say what you like,” said Mast. +“Whatever you say I deserve it. I ought +never to have brought the Lechworthys here. +I couldn’t foresee that Bassett would come +out and Lechworthy would recognise him. +It was all wrong, though.”</p> + +<p>“Why did you do it?”</p> + +<p>“Do you never feel sometimes that you’d +like to talk to a few decent people who didn’t +know your history? I’ve been nearly mad. +And—well, it was you who began it.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed? And what had I got to do with +it?”</p> + +<p>“You didn’t mean it, and you’ll probably +laugh at it. It was about a fortnight ago, and +we’d just finished a committee meeting after +dinner. There were Pryce, Bassett, you and +I sitting out on the verandah. Bassett kept<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +jigging about in a wicker chair that squeaked +horribly, and you said you’d give us some +better music than that, you remember?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I remember. What about it?”</p> + +<p>“You pulled out that swagger presentation +watch of yours—the one that plays the tunes—and +set it going. The night was quite still, +and I sat listening to the tinky-tink of ‘Home, +sweet Home.’ That brought back Histon +Boys to my mind—village where I was, you +know. Old chaps hobbling out of church, bad +with rheumatism; they used to touch their +hats to me then. They didn’t know. I was +welcome anywhere in the village. I dined +with the farmers and played tennis with their +pretty daughters. People walked in from the +next village, three miles away, to hear me +preach on Sunday evenings. Yes, it won’t +seem much to you, but I’ve lost it all, and I +can never have it again or anything like it. +Why, if I showed myself in Histon Boys now, +they’d set their dogs on me. That infernal +tune made me think, and thinking drove me +mad.”</p> + +<p>“I’m not concerned with your sins, Mr +Mast. Being a parson you repent ’em, and +being what you are, you repeat ’em. You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +spend your time in alternate sobbing and +soaking. But I’m concerned with your follies, +because they’re dangerous. You showed +yourself a dangerous fool in the matter of the +native women. You’ve showed yourself still +more dangerous in bringing Lechworthy here. +Lechworthy’s hand-in-glove with the King. +Lechworthy may sail for home with a list of +our names in his pocket-book.”</p> + +<p>“I realise all that,” said Mast. “If there’s +anything I can do about Lechworthy I’ll do it. +I don’t care what it is.”</p> + +<p>“Remember you’ve said that. I may take +you at your word later. At present that +matter is in the hands of a stronger man than +you are. Lechworthy’s niece is ill, and Dr +Pryce is attending her. Something may be +worked that way.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see how.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you? Well, there are more ways +than one of paying the doctor who saves the +life of somebody to whom you’re devoted. +But don’t bother about that yet. At present +that’s in Dr Pryce’s hands and mine. You’ve +made an unlimited offer, and I think you were +right to make it—you’ve risked the skins of +every man in the club, and you ought to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +ready to risk your own skin to save them. +Probably it won’t come to that, but if it does +I’ll tell you. Meanwhile there’s another thing +to settle. Who’s to be secretary?”</p> + +<p>“Mandelbaum says he would take it if a +small salary were attached. He has asked +me to propose that.”</p> + +<p>“We can’t pay a salary and I wouldn’t take +Mandelbaum if he paid to come in. He must +find somebody else to propose that nonsense. +You can tell him I said so if you like. Mandelbaum +doesn’t happen to be one of the things +I’m afraid of just now. The fact is, Mast—and +you’re a good deal responsible for it—we +are getting too disorganised and demoralised +here. I don’t want to turn the place into a +Sunday-school, but I will have some decency +and order. And I want a strong committee, +because in consequence of this Lechworthy +incident it may be necessary for the whole +club to take action as the committee directs. +Pryce is all right, but you admit your own +weakness. You were elected, because you +had the gift of the gab, and you can make it +useful to us. I want you to propose Hanson. +Bassett was never a strong man, and that fat +German who flatters himself that he’s worth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +a salary is no better. Hanson is the man. +He’s steady and he knows things.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll do my best for him,” said Mast. “I +must not canvass, of course.”</p> + +<p>“It’s no good; it would work the other way. +But if you get a chance between now and +luncheon of getting your knife into Mandelbaum’s +election, don’t miss it.”</p> + +<p>“I see,” said Mast. He was glad that he +was to make a speech; it was a thing that he +did well.</p> + +<p>“And don’t forget—you owe a debt to the +club, and you’ve told me that you’re ready to +pay when I call on you.”</p> + +<p>Sir John was satisfied with this interview. +The Rev. Cyril Mast would be a second string +to Sir John’s bow. The second string was +not of the strongest, and probably would not +be wanted. But if, for example, some further +divergence occurred between the views of Sir +John and those of Dr Pryce, Sir John thought +he might find that second string useful.</p> + +<p>The meeting that afternoon was brief and +without excitement. Mast proposed Hanson +in a short but admirable speech. Mast, with +the appearance of a dissipated boy, had on +public occasions the elegant and sonorous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +delivery of a comfortable archdeacon. His +prepared speeches had point and a dry wit +that was quite absent from his ordinary conversation. +Mandelbaum withdrew, in a few +pathetic words that caused much amusement, +and Hanson was elected unanimously.</p> + +<p>The new secretary was a quiet and reserved +man of middle age. Eight years before he +had been a prosperous Lancashire manufacturer. +Then for a week he had gone mad; +and as his madness did not happen to be of a +certifiable kind, he was now paying for it with +the rest of his life in exile. He was the best +chess-player in the club and perhaps the best +all-round shot; with the revolver Dr Soames +Pryce was in a class by himself. Hanson +spent four hours every day over chess. He +used work where the Rev. Cyril Mast used +whisky, and he had not let himself slip down +even in a climate where all occupations are a +burden. If you talked to him, he was pleasant +enough, and you found him rather exceptionally +well-informed; but you had to begin the +talking. He was melancholy by nature, but +he had realised it and did his best to keep his +melancholy to himself. The work of the +secretaryship was a godsend to him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span></p> + +<p>Sir John had never before sought the society +of the Rev. Cyril Mast, but now he meant to +keep in touch with him. It was not only +because, if it should happen that there was a +violent and desperate thing to be done, he felt +that he could make Mast do it. Sir John appreciated +keenly the trappings of civilisation; +he wished things to be done decently and in +order. He could not make the Exiles’ Club +in Faloo quite like the London clubs of which +he had ceased <i>ipso facto</i> to be a member, but +he worked in that direction. He respected—almost +in excess of its merits—the Baringstoke +family, but when Lord Charles Baringstoke +entered the public rooms of the club in pyjamas +and a dressing-gown, Sir John resented it. +Public opinion in Faloo was not strong enough +to stop drunkenness, but there were limits, +and the limits had of late too frequently been +exceeded. There had been noise and brawling, +and worse. Mast had been a bad offender; +his conversation with some of the members +was one stream of witless and senseless filth, +and in his hours of intoxication he had been +beyond measure bestial and disgusting. Yet +it had been said that Mast had his moments, +and he had shown some ability, though with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +little judgment to direct it. Sir John began +to think that association might effect something, +for Mast like most weak men took his +colour largely from his company. He did not +dream of reforming Mast, for the man was +congenitally vicious; but he thought he +might effect a temporary break in the dreary +see-saw of swinishness and sentimentalism +that made up the man’s life, and this would +help to stop the growing disorder in the +club.</p> + +<p>So he complimented Mast on his speech, +and Mast, like any spaniel, was delighted with +a little attention from the man who had +chastised him.</p> + +<p>“I’ve something else I want you to do. +I’m sending a couple of servants to pack up +all Bassett’s effects. You might superintend +that—see that there’s no pilfering and that +everything is properly sealed up. And, by +the way, I’ve ordered a grilled chicken at nine +to-night, and reserved our last bottle of +Chambertin. I should be glad if you’d +join me. I daresay Pryce will come in +later.”</p> + +<p>Mast accepted these proposals with alacrity. +He was conscious of some faint glow of self-respect—or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +of vanity, which so often serves +the same purpose.</p> + +<p>Late in the afternoon Sir John received a +note from Dr Pryce, brought by a messenger. +It contained little more than a request that his +clothes might be sent him, and the statement +that he would write on the morrow if he could +find time.</p> + +<p>Over the grilled chicken that night Sir John +was rather absent-minded. He did not seem +in the least inclined to say anything further +about Mast’s excellent speech, although he +had the opportunity.</p> + +<p>“And when do you expect Dr Pryce?” +Mast asked.</p> + +<p>“Not to-night after all. I’ve heard from +him, of course. The poor girl’s really ill. +But still we must hope for the best. Pryce has +wonderful skill and experience. Shall we—er—join +them in the card-room?”</p> + +<p>In one corner of the card-room Hanson, +the new secretary, was giving Lord Charles +Baringstoke a game of chess. There was nobody +in the club whose play gave Hanson more +trouble. Hanson played like a scholar; his +opponent played like a demoniac with occasional +flashes of inspiration and was gener<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>ally, +but not invariably, beaten. To-night, +for instance, he looked up triumphantly from +the board.</p> + +<p>“Well, old cockie?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Hanson, “that is so. I’d +given you credit for something better, and +when you unmasked, my position was hopeless. +Serves me right. Quite interesting though.”</p> + +<p>“Tell you what. My game’s improving?”</p> + +<p>“No, Charles,” said Hanson, “it’s clever +but unprincipled, and always will be. Still, +it’s always suggestive. Now let me see if I +can’t wake up a little.”</p> + +<p>“I say,” said Sir John bitterly from the +card-table where he was playing a difficult +hand, “is chess a game that requires so much +conversation?”</p> + +<p>“Sorry,” said Hanson.</p> + +<p>“We’ve made papa quite cross,” said Lord +Charles Baringstoke as he arranged the pieces. +He was not allowed to win again that night.</p> + +<p>Mast played very sober bridge with very bad +luck. He could not hold a card.</p> + +<p>“I’m a perfect Jonah to-night,” he said +after his third rubber, as he paid his loss.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Sir John, genially, as he +gathered the money, “we shall have to throw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +you overboard. Come along now. We were +very late last night. Bed’s not a bad idea.”</p> + +<p>The Rev. Cyril Mast followed him meekly.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>The King drove furiously, but Dr Pryce was +not a nervous man. When they arrived at the +King’s house, Lechworthy was pacing the +verandah anxiously, awaiting them. Dr Pryce +was presented to him, but very little was said, +for the doctor wished to see his patient at +once, and went off to her room.</p> + +<p>Nearly an hour had passed before he reappeared +on the verandah.</p> + +<p>“Well, doctor,” said Mr Lechworthy, eagerly. +“I have been much alarmed—needlessly, I +hope. What is the matter with my niece?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know the name of it,” said Dr +Pryce. “I’ve seen it several times here—never +in Europe.”</p> + +<p>“She is seriously ill?”</p> + +<p>“Undoubtedly. But Miss Auriol has a fine +constitution, and if we can fight through the +next thirty-six hours, recovery is likely to be +very rapid. Unfortunately, those two native +girls, with the best intentions, have been +playing about with native remedies.”</p> + +<p>“And they are useless?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> + +<p>“They are very much worse than that. +However, it won’t happen again, and now that +I have talked to them, Tiva and Ioia may be +quite handy.” At the moment Tiva and Ioia +were frightened out of their lives, weeping +tears of bitterest penitence, and wishing they +were dead.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Lechworthy, “you will be able +to use them as nurses.”</p> + +<p>“A nurse who can’t take a temperature isn’t +much use to me at present. I shall be nurse +and doctor too. But they can do little things +under my direction—fetch and carry and so on—and +they’re willing enough.”</p> + +<p>“I feel a terrible responsibility in having +brought Miss Auriol here. I had hoped, +doctor, that you would be able to give me +better news.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps, that will come to-morrow. +Meanwhile, there are things I must see to. Is +Smith still here?”</p> + +<p>For the moment Lechworthy did not understand +that it was of the King that Pryce spoke +in this unceremonious way. “The King?” +he said. “Yes, he wished to see you.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks. I’ll go and find him.” He +paused a moment. There was something in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +the plucky, self-controlled wretchedness of the +old man that appealed to him. “There is no +immediate danger,” he said. “If there were, +I would tell you. I am going to remain here, +and in one point I want to prepare you. Miss +Auriol is ill now, but she will be worse this +evening. I expect a further rise in temperature, +and there may be delirium, and in consequence +some noise. But you must not let that +upset you too much—it’s foreseen and I shall +be ready to deal with it. If she gets a good +sleep afterwards, I shall be quite satisfied.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you very much for telling me. +Indeed—I wish I could thank you better for +all you’re doing for us. It is good of you to +have come and to devote so much time to us. +I feel it—far more than I can express at +present.”</p> + +<p>“My time here is of little value. You +understand then—I cannot say that Miss +Auriol is out of danger, but there’s room for +hope. I’ll do my best, Mr Lechworthy. Go +and see her for a few minutes now, if you like. +After that, I would rather she were left alone, +unless she asks specially for you and begins +worrying.”</p> + +<p>Mr Lechworthy was almost aggressively<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +cheerful during the few minutes that he spent +with his niece. Her room was pleasantly +cool, and so darkened that he could only just +make out the pale face and the mass of hair +on the pillow. Mr Lechworthy expressed the +opinion that Pryce seemed to be an able doctor +and would put her right in no time.</p> + +<p>“And how do you get on with him, my +dear?”</p> + +<p>“I think,” said Hilda, faintly, “that he is +the very gentlest man I ever met.”</p> + +<p>“Good,” said Mr Lechworthy. “You like +him then. That’s right.”</p> + +<p>Hilda’s estimate of Dr Pryce would probably +have excited some mirth among his friends at +the Exiles’ Club. Lechworthy, as he resumed +his notes on South Sea Missions, found himself +puzzled by Dr Pryce. Somehow or other +Lechworthy had expected to see a furtive, +very polite, shaky little man, one who would +try to ingratiate himself—something like Mast +or Bassett. He found that he could not fit +Dr Pryce into any reasonable idea of the +fugitive from justice.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Pryce had found the King asleep +in a long chair in the garden. The King had +spent less than one hour in bed, and at such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +times he slept when he got the chance. But +he was awake and alert almost as soon as he +heard Pryce’s voice.</p> + +<p>“And what is this illness?” he asked immediately.</p> + +<p>“The same that you had—and your boss +man on the plantations.”</p> + +<p>“Good,” said the King. “Then you must +cure her.”</p> + +<p>“You, like your plantation boss, are a man +and a native; Miss Auriol is a woman and a +European. I got on to your case at once; +here, before I arrived, Miss Auriol had been +made to swallow a mess of boiled leaves—of +a kind that might have poisoned a woman in +good health. She has the disease in a worse +form than you had it. I could give you horse-medicine; +I should kill Miss Auriol if I gave +the same doses to her. Well, I don’t expect +you to understand. But you can understand +this—on the whole, the probability is that Miss +Auriol will die.”</p> + +<p>“You stop here?”</p> + +<p>“Of course.”</p> + +<p>“My servants, my house, myself—all are +at your disposal. I am no more King here: +here the doctor is King. All that you say will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +be done. But Miss Auriol must not die. I +have given my word that you can save her and +that you will save her.”</p> + +<p>“Then you’re a fool,” said Dr Pryce, bluntly.</p> + +<p>“Why? I was ill—it was the same thing. +You saved me—so you save her too. She +must not die. It means too many things. +If she dies, other people will die. You will +die, Dr Pryce.”</p> + +<p>“Shall I?” said Pryce, smiling. He took +his revolver from the case at his belt, held it +by the barrel, and handed it to Smith. “Catch +hold of that, will you? Thanks. Now then, +you can either put a bullet through my head +or you can take your words back. You shall +do one or the other. Refuse and I leave you +to do the doctoring.”</p> + +<p>The King examined the revolver, and handed +it back again.</p> + +<p>“I apologise,” said the King. “But I have +not slept much, and so I judge badly. You +must excuse me. Perhaps I wished, too, to +make a test. You will take no notice. It +<span class="lock">is—”</span></p> + +<p>“I’m in a hurry,” said Pryce. “I want +fresh milk for my patient. I’d like cow’s milk, +but that can’t be got. Goats?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Yes,” said the King. “I had yesterday +to decide the possession of a goat. It was a +goat in milk, valuable because the milk could +be sold to the Exiles’ Club. Shall I have some +milk sent up?”</p> + +<p>“How far away is the goat?”</p> + +<p>“About a mile.”</p> + +<p>“Then have the goat driven here, and +driven very gently. I’d like to vet the beast +first. If she’s healthy, then with a little +modification the milk will do. Have you an +ice-machine here?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“I shall want a good deal of ice to-night +probably.”</p> + +<p>“I will see to that. Is there anything else?”</p> + +<p>“I may want some brandy later, and if so +I want the best I can get. You used to have +<span class="lock">some—”</span></p> + +<p>“Of the genuine old cognac that the French +padre gave me. There is still one bottle left. +It is at my office. I will send a messenger for +it.”</p> + +<p>“Right. See about the goat first, please.” +Dr Pryce turned back to the house.</p> + +<p>There he found the tear-stained Tiva waiting +for him. In her hand she held a plant with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +small yellowish-white flowers. Dr Pryce had +sent her to get it.</p> + +<p>“See,” she said eagerly. “All right?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that’s all right,” said Dr Pryce, +taking the plant. “You’re a good girl, +though a fool in some respects. You can go +back to Ioia now. And, remember, you do +not enter Miss Auriol’s room, unless she rings +that little bell by her bedside.”</p> + +<p>In addition to doing much of the work that +usually falls to the nurse, Dr Pryce had also +to be his own manufacturing chemist. Two +cases of drugs and apparatus, that he had +brought with him, had been placed in a room +near Hilda’s. Dr Pryce unpacked what he +wanted. There was oxygen to be made and +stored, and the dangerous virtue of those +yellowish-white flowers to be extracted.</p> + +<p>The King was kept very busy on the beach +that afternoon and evening. His schooner +had come in, and brought stores of all kinds, +some for the Exiles’ Club and some for the +King himself. There was a bag of letters, +and there was money for Lord Charles Baringstoke. +Two messengers had come down from +the palace by his direction, but they had +brought little news; the case was going on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +much as had been expected—that was all Dr +Pryce would say. At ten o’clock, as no +messenger had come for the last four hours, the +King mounted his horse and rode up to the +palace.</p> + +<p>“I’m glad you’ve come, sir,” said Mr Lechworthy. +“Indeed, I was on the point of +sending for you.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Auriol is better?”</p> + +<p>“I—I don’t know. At sunset it was +terrible—one heard her moaning and screaming. +Dr Pryce had told me it would be so, +but still it was terrible. For the last two hours +he has been in her room and everything has +been quite quiet.”</p> + +<p>“He dined with you, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>“No. He came in for a minute, and took +a cup of coffee. That was all. I can’t tell +you the things that that man has done to-day. +He has done everything—even to the preparing +of such food as she has been allowed to take. +If she recovers, it is to Dr Pryce, under Providence, +that she owes her life.”</p> + +<p>“But why does he remain so long? Why +does he not come and tell us?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. I hope, of course, that she +is asleep.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> + +<p>“If she is asleep, then all is well, and he need +not remain.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” admitted Mr Lechworthy. “But +I have very great confidence in that doctor. +We had better not interfere.”</p> + +<p>“Here he comes,” said the King.</p> + +<p>“I heard nothing.”</p> + +<p>“A door opened and shut softly.”</p> + +<p>Dr Soames Pryce came out on to the +verandah where Lechworthy and the King +were seated. His coat and waistcoat were off. +With his left hand he rubbed his right forearm. +His smile was slightly triumphant.</p> + +<p>“Well, we’ve got through all right, Mr +Lechworthy. Had a bit of a fight for it too. +Miss Auriol has been asleep for nearly two +hours and is still asleep.”</p> + +<p>“Then why have you left us without news?” +asked the King.</p> + +<p>“This another of your little tests?” sneered +Pryce.</p> + +<p>“Do you want me to apologise again for +that? I will if you like. I was a fool, and I +know it now. I asked that only because I +did not understand. I did not think it would +annoy you.”</p> + +<p>Mr Lechworthy looked from one man to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +other. He did not understand to what they +referred.</p> + +<p>“All right, old chap,” said Pryce. “I +couldn’t come before because Miss Auriol had +hold of my right hand when she went to sleep, +and I didn’t want to wake her again. Simple +enough, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid she’s given you a cramp in your +right arm,” said Lechworthy.</p> + +<p>“It wouldn’t prevent me from holding a +knife and fork,” said the doctor.</p> + +<p>“That’s good,” said the King. “We will +have supper together.” In another second +he would have clapped his hands.</p> + +<p>“No noise,” said Pryce, quickly.</p> + +<p>“Right. I will go and fetch servants myself.”</p> + +<p>Lechworthy also rose and went through the +French windows. Dr Pryce stretched himself +at full length in a chair and closed his eyes. +He was rather more worn out than he would +have admitted.</p> + +<p>He opened his eyes again as Lechworthy +came back on to the verandah with a glass in +his hand. “I’ve ventured,” said Mr Lechworthy. +“Supper won’t be ready for a few +minutes. Whisky-and-soda, eh?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Good idea,” said Pryce, taking the glass. +“All the same, I don’t want you to run about +waiting on me.”</p> + +<p>“But my dear doctor, I can’t even begin +<span class="lock">to—”</span></p> + +<p>“Miss Auriol’s a prize patient,” interrupted +Dr Pryce. “Good constitution, good pluck, +good intelligence. By the <span class="lock">way—”</span></p> + +<p>King Smith came out to tell them that +supper was ready.</p> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + + +<p>Lord Charles Baringstoke +stretched himself in a lounge-chair +on the verandah. It was eleven in the morning, +and he had the tired meditative feeling +of one who has risen too early. The parrot, +who had been sitting for some minutes +motionless on its perch, swayed backwards +and forwards, considering its repertoire. It +produced a plausible imitation of the drawing +of a cork.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Lord Charles Baringstoke, +wearily, “that’s rather what I think myself.”</p> + +<p>Mr Mandelbaum waddled out to survey the +morning. Between his fingers he held a cigar, +slightly bloated and rather doubtful, and in +these respects curiously like its proprietor.</p> + +<p>“Well, my young frient,” said Mandelbaum, +“I make myself a good breakfast zis +morning.”</p> + +<p>“Gross feeder—what? I say, ain’t Soames +Pryce ever comin’ back?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Ask ze Herr Zecretary. I am noddings +here. Do you want pills?”</p> + +<p>“No. You see, it’s rather a rum funny +thing. You know that lizard of mine—you +backed him once.”</p> + +<p>“And lost my money. I hop’ he is dead, +zat lizart.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, he’s dead all right, but that ain’t it. +I was exercisin’ him yesterday, when the boy +brought me a glass of sherry and angostura +with a fly in it.”</p> + +<p>“Fly? Vot fly?”</p> + +<p>“Just a plain fly, and I hadn’t ordered it. +But I fished it out and chucked it to my lizard, +who took it in one snap.”</p> + +<p>“Vell, vell, vot about it? If you veesh +to gomplain zat your drink hat som’ +<span class="lock">flies—”</span></p> + +<p>“I did the complainin’ at the time, thanks. +I don’t let a thing of that kind go past me. +But what I mean is that the lizard started off +round the course like a flash of light. Cut the +record all to rags. Did two rounds and a bit, +and then he died, you know. But I’ve got +another lizard, and I can get another fly and +some more sherry. And I’ve got some money +just now, and Soames Pryce has got a lizard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +that he thinks can’t be beaten. So that’s how +it is, you see.”</p> + +<p>“I see, my young frient. Dope.”</p> + +<p>“Well, puttin’ it coarsely, dope. And good.”</p> + +<p>“Ve borrow a lizart and try him again,” +said Mr Mandelbaum, thoughtfully. “Perhaps +zat vos only a chance. Ach, here is Sir +John!”</p> + +<p>The neatness and freshness of Sir John’s +attire made the other men look untidy. Sir +John had been distressed to hear of the carelessness +of one of the native waiters the day +before, but at the same time he thought it +would have been better if Lord Charles had +not thrown the glass in the boy’s face. Glassware +was so difficult to replace. It would +have been enough to have said a word to +Thomas about it. “And though the boy’s +eye will probably get all right again, we think +it’s politic not to handle the natives too +roughly.”</p> + +<p>“Awfully sorry,” said Lord Charles. “This +club etiquette does hedge you around, don’t +it? And I give you my word of honour there +was nobody else there to chuck the blessed +glass at. And—oh! I say, when’s Pryce +comin’ back? He’s been away a week.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Not quite a week. As it happens, I’m +expecting him every moment. But he goes +away again to-night.”</p> + +<p>“But ze girl vos all right again now, zey +tell me,” said Mandelbaum.</p> + +<p>“Well, yes,” said Sir John, genially. “A +good recovery, I’m glad to say. But possibly +Mr Lechworthy is still a little nervous. Smith, +too, can’t be there much, he has his business, +and I daresay he’s getting the doctor to help +him with his guests. Our friend Pryce knows +the island, you see.”</p> + +<p>“Shall we gather at the river?” suggested +the parrot very loudly, and with distinct +lapses from accuracy in its reproduction of the +melody. Nobody took any notice of it.</p> + +<p>“Well, if Pryce is comin’, I’ll wait,” said +Lord Charles. “I want to do a little lizard-racin’ +with him.”</p> + +<p>“Doubt if he’ll have time for it. You see, +Charles, I’m sorry to disturb your plans, but +we want a little business with the doctor. +Committee.”</p> + +<p>“Then I’ll find a canoe to take me over to +the <i>Snowflake</i>. Unsociable lot on that boat—never +come ashore for a drink or anythin’. I +should do ’em good.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Sorry to disappoint you again, but the +<i>Snowflake</i> left Faloo this morning.”</p> + +<p>“Where to? When’s she comin’ back?”</p> + +<p>Sir John stroked his beard and looked very +discreet. “I’m afraid,” he said, “I’m not +in a position to say.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I am gettin’ it in the neck this +mornin’, I don’t think. Mayn’t do what I’ve +done—can’t do what I wanted—and not to be +told anythin’ about anythin’. Krikey! And +nothin’ for breakfast but two oranges and a +bad headache. What a life!”</p> + +<p>“Ah, ha!” laughed Sir John. “You keep +it up too late, you and Mast!”</p> + +<p>“<em>Shall</em> we,” screamed the parrot with much +emphasis on the first word, and then paused. +With its head on one side, it blinked at Sir +John and observed parenthetically, “You +damned thief!” For the moment it had forgotten +what it had first intended to say. +“Gather at the river?” it suddenly added +with perfunctory rapidity.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact Sir John knew no more +than the others about the destination of the +<i>Snowflake</i>. Nor did he know when she would +return to take up her owner. His information +was derived from a very laconic note from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +Dr Pryce, received on the previous evening. +“Syndicate chucked,” wrote Dr Soames +Pryce. “Lechworthy partners Smith. <i>Snowflake</i> +leaves to-morrow morning, but returns +for Lechworthy. Shall be at the club for a +few hours then. So please call committee to +meet me and explain.” That morning Sir +John had received the King’s formal notice of +his intention to buy out his partners. The +letter was brief, severely correct, business-like +in every phrase, and clearly had nothing of +King Smith about it except the signature.</p> + +<p>The situation was very serious. No longer +had the Exiles’ Club the slightest hold over +King Smith. Nor did it seem likely that the +King’s association with Lechworthy would be +confined to the business venture. The King, +Sir John had guessed, had other schemes. A +desperate crisis must sometimes be dealt with +in a desperate way, and of the desperate ways +it is better to say as little as possible. If one +uses the knife to cut the knot and all comes +free, it may be more comfortable afterwards +to ignore what has happened and to hide the +knife. Sir John spoke of the departure of the +<i>Snowflake</i>, for this was, or would be in an hour, +pretty generally known, but he was not going<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +to babble of the situation to irresponsible +people. He was careful to emphasise the note +of indulgent good-humour, and gave no indication +of the anxiety that tortured him.</p> + +<p>Dr Soames Pryce came across the lawn with +irritating slowness, rolling a cigarette as he +walked. He greeted Sir John and the other +two men, and made one or two poignant observations +on the personal appearance of Lord +Charles. Then he turned to the parrot.</p> + +<p>“Nice morning, Polly, ain’t it?”</p> + +<p>“Hell to you, sir!” said that profane fowl +promptly.</p> + +<p>Sir John showed pardonable signs of impatience. +“Hanson and Mast have been +waiting in the secretary’s room for some time,” +he said.</p> + +<p>“Sorry. I’ll come.”</p> + +<p>But in the hall a further interruption took +place. Thomas came forward.</p> + +<p>“Beg pardon, sir, but one of the native +boys has got his eye a good deal cut about. +Gentleman threw a glass at him yesterday.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind that now. Another time.” +said Sir John.</p> + +<p>“No,” said Pryce, “I must go and have a +look at him. I shan’t be long, probably.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +Meanwhile, you and the others can get through +all the formal business—you don’t want me +for that. You’ve explained the situation?”</p> + +<p>“I’ve spoken of it to Hanson and Mast, so +far as I know it. You ought to have written +in more detail. Do be as quick as you can.”</p> + +<p>“There’s no hurry,” said Pryce, cheerfully, +as he followed Thomas.</p> + +<p>The formal business went through, including +the provisional election of a new member, and +some desultory discussion followed. The Rev. +Cyril Mast looked ill, shaky and depressed. +He asked many questions, most of which could +not be answered, and repeated at intervals that +in his belief Dr Pryce would pull them through. +Sir John was barely civil to him, and glanced +repeatedly at his watch. Hanson was +taciturn.</p> + +<p>Half an hour had elapsed before Dr Pryce +entered the room. He was quite conscious +that he was being talked about as he entered. +He nodded to Hanson and Mast, dropped into +a chair, and lit a cigarette.</p> + +<p>“At last!” said Sir John, severely.</p> + +<p>“That chap won’t lose the sight of the eye, +but he’s had a damned near shave.”</p> + +<p>Sir John controlled himself with difficulty.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +“Very interesting, doctor. We are not here, +however, to consider the fact that one of the +native servants has not lost his eyesight, but +a subject of almost equal importance—the +liberty and probably the lives of every white +man on the island. Dr Pryce, gentlemen, +comes fresh from the enemy’s camp. He was +called in, as you know, to attend Lechworthy’s +niece, and he has had unusual opportunities +for observation. He has already sent us, very +briefly, some alarming and serious news. We +shall be glad if he can supplement it in any +way, and if he will tell us to what conclusions +he has come.”</p> + +<p>“Hear, hear,” said Mast.</p> + +<p>“The conclusion to which I have come,” +said Pryce, “is that Faloo is finished, so far as +we are concerned. The Exiles’ Club is done, +D-o-n-e, done. <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Sauve qui peut</i>—that’s the +order.”</p> + +<p>His three hearers looked at him, and at one +another. There was a moment’s silence.</p> + +<p>“Rather a sweeping conclusion,” said Sir +John, suavely. “I should have to feel very +sure that our case was desperate before I +accepted it. What has been happening up at +the King’s palace?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p> + +<p>“The first few days I was a good deal occupied +with my patient, who is now practically +well again. Lechworthy and the King had +two or three consultations together, at which +I was not present. It was not till yesterday +morning that they came to their final agreement. +Then, as soon as Smith had gone, +Lechworthy asked if he could have some talk +with me. Well, he told me all that had been +arranged, quite fully and frankly.”</p> + +<p>“And you believed him?” asked Mast, +with a silly assumption of acuteness.</p> + +<p>Dr Soames Pryce took no notice of the +question and continued. “Lechworthy’s +business partnership with the King was first +touched upon. I did not know before what +terms the syndicate had made with the King, +and when I heard them I was not pleased. +It’s not surprising that, as soon as he got the +chance, Smith supplanted us.”</p> + +<p>“You were one of the syndicate yourself,” +said Sir John.</p> + +<p>“I was asked to put a couple of hundred +into the business when I came here. I paid +my footing. I knew, of course, that the syndicate +had Smith by the neck, and that this +was necessary. But I did not know that we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +were picking his pocket at the same time, +which was unnecessary. We needn’t discuss +it. Lechworthy will take our place. But +that is merely a temporary arrangement, for +if the King and Lechworthy succeed in doing +what they intend to do, there will be no more +trading. Under the trader lies the patriot. +The King’s scheme is that Faloo shall be the +asylum of a dying race. You were not far +wrong, Sweetling. It is to be Faloo for its +own people. No white man is to set foot on +the island. Civilisation is not to contaminate +it, for civilisation kills the native. Under +British protection, which is sought, this would +be possible.”</p> + +<p>“Great Britain is to be asked to protect an +island, of which it is to be allowed to make +no use whatever,” said Sir John. “Come, +doctor, we are practical people.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Smith is ready to pay for anything +that he has. He is willing, too, to have the +thing tried experimentally for a few years, +and to risk everything on the experiment +being successful in arresting the deterioration +and decay of the native race. Lechworthy, +too, is just the man to pull such a thing through. +He owns an influential paper, and he contri<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>butes +largely to the party funds. He is not +often heard in the House, but he is working +behind the scenes most of the time. The +idea is sentimental, inexpensive and not +dangerous, for France isn’t going to worry +about Faloo.”</p> + +<p>“The missionary question,” suggested +Hanson.</p> + +<p>“That created a difficulty for some time. +Smith’s way out of it is disingenuous, but it +has worked. The white missionary is barred, +but native Protestant converts will be admitted +freely, and a church will be built. +Religion is accepted but not secular education. +There will be a church, but there will be no +school. As for the Catholics, Smith appears +to do what he likes. The priests will ask to be +transferred to another island—a sphere of +greater usefulness. They came here enthusiastic, +but they’ve grown slack and they’ve +done themselves too well. Smith knows +something perhaps, and could write a letter +if necessary, and they know that he could. +At any rate there are to be no more Catholics +in Faloo. That was a point which told tremendously +with Lechworthy. Of course, we +know that in a very short time there will be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +no more Protestants either. We know what +happens to the Protestant convert when the +white man is away and there is neither moral +support nor public opinion to back him.”</p> + +<p>“If you had worked on that,” said Mast, +“you might have separated Smith and Lechworthy.”</p> + +<p>“It might have been tried,” said Sir John.</p> + +<p>“It was, and it failed. You see, Sweetling, +Smith had been ready for it. The line taken +was that the true religion must prevail, +whether by the native convert or by the white +missionary. The idea of the first Protestant +church in Faloo had a glamour about it for +Lechworthy. A site is chosen already for that +church, and a rough plan sketched out. And +I have not the least doubt that it will actually +be built. Smith knows what he’s about. I +found I had come up against real faith, and +with that one cannot argue. And even if I +had succeeded, what was the use? So soon +as the business partnership comes into being, +we lose our hold on Smith, and the position +becomes intolerable. He can charge us anything +he likes for the goods he supplies. He +can refuse to supply us altogether. He can +refuse to carry our mail. And certainly he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +would no longer risk his popularity by standing +between us and those of the natives, who, +with good reason, hate us. The game’s up. +<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Rien ne va plus.</i>”</p> + +<p>“The position is certainly very grave,” +said Sir John. “What about the <i>Snowflake</i>?”</p> + +<p>“Was to have left yesterday afternoon. +Lechworthy asked me if I had any letters to +send, but I had none. The delay was caused +because Smith had not had time to finish some +papers that Lechworthy wanted to send on. +Lechworthy himself sent, amongst others, +letters to his editor and to his political chief. +They will catch a steamer at the nearest port +on the route. Then the <i>Snowflake</i> returns to +Faloo, to take up Lechworthy and his niece. +Those letters are on their way now, and you +can imagine the kind of letters that the +astonished visitor to Faloo is likely to write. +This island has become too public for us.”</p> + +<p>“If those letters arrive, that must be +so,” said Sir John. “Well, I deprecate any +interference with private letters, of course, +but there are exceptional cases. Here are we, +a body of men, who, from mistakes and misunderstandings, +are anxious to retire from the +world. Without our invitation and against<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +our wishes this vulgar wealthy manufacturer +intrudes himself here, and proposes to make +the place intolerable for us. We had a right +to see that those letters were not sent. It +seems to me, Dr Pryce, that you might have +gone on board the <i>Snowflake</i> and, one way or +another, managed that.”</p> + +<p>“Then you’re wrong, Sweetling. If I could +have done it, it would have meant only a +temporary postponement of our troubles, but +it was not possible. I went to the King’s +house as a suspected man. Smith, in a +flurried moment, let me see that he suspected +me—he thought I meant to kill Miss Auriol, +or at any rate to allow her to die. Lechworthy +did not suspect me at all; if I had wished to +join the <i>Snowflake</i> for this preliminary trip he +would have arranged it; he is really absurdly +grateful to me. But even he would have +thought my desertion of the patient queer, +for he wishes her to be still under a doctor’s +care. Smith would have gone further, and +would have sent a message to the skipper. Do +you think a suspected man is going to have +a chance to fool with the mail that’s entrusted +to a sober Scotch skipper?” Here he looked +steadily at Sir John. “Why, he’d have as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +good a chance of scuttling the ship, and he’d +have no chance of that. Suspected people +don’t have chances.”</p> + +<p>“This is most disappointing,” said Mast, +peevishly. “I had felt confident that Dr +Pryce would pull us through. And what has +he done? Nothing.”</p> + +<p>“And what would you have done, you silly +boozer?”</p> + +<p>“Order,” said Sir John. “These provocative +<span class="lock">expressions—”</span></p> + +<p>“Very well. Let’s hear what the Rev. +Cyril Mast would have done.”</p> + +<p>“Naturally, I should have to think over +that,” said Mast.</p> + +<p>“If you’d learned to think a little earlier, +you would not have brought Lechworthy to +the Exiles’ Club. You made this trouble, you +know.”</p> + +<p>“True enough,” said Sir John. “I’ve told +you so myself, Mast.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t deny it. And I tell you once more +that there is no possible act of reparation which +I am not ready to make.”</p> + +<p>“I can’t say anything about that,” said +Pryce. “Not at any rate within the present +limitations as to language at committee<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +meetings. And I don’t think there’s much else +to say. I’ve one more little thing to tell you, +and I heard it as I was on my way here. A +native, whom I was treating for pneumonia just +about the time of Smith’s rejection as a member +here, recovered. To-day he came running +after my gee in a highly agitated condition. +He had something to say to me. Briefly it +came to this, that the white men on the island +were to be killed as he put it, pretty dam +quick. If necessary, Smith was to be killed +too. This was all decided, and I understood +that he was one of the conspirators who had +decided it. But, as he was pleased to say +I had saved his life and he wished to save mine, +I was to clear out on the trading schooner, I +believe. Personally, if there’s any conspiracy +on foot, I think the conspirators are likely to +get hurt. You were right about those piano-cases, +Sweetling. Smith has got seventy-five +men up at his house, and they all have rifles. +I mention it in case you may think it of any +importance. My own opinion was not altered +by it. Lechworthy is not doing any detective +or police-work. He’s not sending over a list +of names or anything of that kind. But I +make no doubt that he has said something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +of the nature of the Exiles’ Club. If we stay, +we are lost. If we disperse, there’s still one +more chance. With many of us the scent is +cold and the hounds have given up. And the +world’s wide. I propose, Mr President, that +the question of winding up the club, or of any +alternative scheme be considered at another +meeting to-morrow. I have not much more +time now. And you do not want to decide +hurriedly.”</p> + +<p>Sir John rather dejectedly agreed, and there +was no dissentient voice.</p> + +<p>“Then shall we meet again at this time +to-morrow?” asked Mast. “That would suit +me.”</p> + +<p>“What do you think, doctor?” asked Sir +John.</p> + +<p>“Meet then if you like. I shan’t be here. +I’m going fishing with Lechworthy. You +know my views. The members of the Exiles’ +Club should disperse deviously, and as soon +as Smith’s rotten schooners can take them. +As to the winding-up of the club, I’m content +to leave it in your hands, Sweetling.”</p> + +<p>“So in a crisis like this you find it amusing +to go fishing,” said the Rev. Cyril Mast with +offensive bitterness.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Fishing is an occupation,” said Pryce. +“Pitching idiots through windows is another +occupation and it’s difficult to keep off it +sometimes.”</p> + +<p>“Order, please,” said Sir John. “These +suggestions of violence are most improper. +At the same time you, Mr Mast, are the very +last person who should venture to offer any +criticism. Now, gentlemen, as to the date of +the next meeting. What do you think, Mr +Hanson?”</p> + +<p>“This day week,” said Hanson. “By that +time we may know more—or other things may +have happened.”</p> + +<p>“I can be here then,” said Pryce.</p> + +<p>The date was agreed upon, and Pryce came +out into the hall. He was going to walk back +to the King’s house, and he thought he would +take a drink first. In the hall Lord Charles +Baringstoke came up to him with Herr +Mandelbaum in attendance.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I say,” said Lord Charles. “I’ve +got my money now, you know. And I’ve +got a lizard I’d like to back against yours—or +against the clock if you like.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Pryce, “can’t a man have a +drink first?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Funny thing—just what I was goin’ to +propose. What’s yours?”</p> + +<p>“Sherry and Angostura,” said Dr Soames +Pryce, impressively. “And I’ll have two +flies in mine.”</p> + +<p>Mandelbaum’s deep bass laughter rolled +upwards from a widely-opened mouth.</p> + +<p>“Golly!” exclaimed Lord Charles. His +look betokened no shame but considerable +curiosity. “You’re on it, of course; but, I +say, how did you know?”</p> + +<p>“When you smashed a glass on the face of +that native boy you nearly cut his eye out—but +you didn’t cut his tongue out.”</p> + +<p>“Goot! Ver’ goot!” roared Mandelbaum.</p> + +<p>“So you’ve been patchin’ his face up?” +said Lord Charles. “I see. Well, it’s my +mistake, ain’t it? But you’ll have a drink +all the same.”</p> + +<p>“The cheek of it! What, you dirty dog, +you try to swindle me and then expect me to +drink with you? Well, well, one mustn’t be +too particular in Faloo, and you were born +without any moral sense, Charles, and it may +be Lord knows the last drink we’ll take +together. But you’ll drink with me this time. +Come on, Mandelbaum.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mandelbaum quoted a German couplet to the +effect that a drink in the morning has a +medicinal value. Lord Charles protested, but +permitted Dr Pryce to pay. Sir John and +Hanson joined the party. Mast had gone off +by himself. He was sick of the alternate +patronage and reprobation of Sir John. He +was sick of his own miserable position—to be +despised by the members of the Exiles’ Club +was to be despised indeed. His weak imaginative +vanity pictured himself saving the +situation, winning even from his enemies a +frank and generous admiration. But his +drink-bemused brains supplied no plan of +action. He found an unfrequented corner of +the garden in which to sulk and swill.</p> + +<p>Pryce remained but a few minutes, promised +Sir John that he would write if there were +anything worth writing, and went on his way. +And then Sir John called Hanson apart.</p> + +<p>“You said very little at the meeting, Hanson. +The modesty of the newly-elected, eh?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Hanson. “I had something to +say, but it was not the time.”</p> + +<p>“Too many listeners? Pryce?”</p> + +<p>“I formed an idea about him—you also, +probably.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span></p> + +<p>“He had meant to do—er—something that +was not discussed. But he managed to give +me good reason why he couldn’t do it. I can’t +blame him. And I fear he’s right in his conclusions. +What was your idea?”</p> + +<p>“That Dr Soames Pryce does not care one +damn what becomes of the Exiles’ Club—or +what happens to himself either.”</p> + +<p>“He’s a very unemotional man, hates +scenes, prides himself (so I should imagine) on +his philosophical calm.”</p> + +<p>“He has himself well in hand, but it struck +me that it was done with great difficulty. He +would have much liked to kill our friend Mast. +Unemotional? Why, the man’s being burned +alive with his emotions!”</p> + +<p>“What emotions?”</p> + +<p>“Not anger with Mast, nor sorrow, nor +fear. There’s one white girl on the island—isn’t +that explanation enough?”</p> + +<p>“I hadn’t thought of it. It may be that +you’re right. But that doesn’t affect the main +thing—we have got to quit Faloo.”</p> + +<p>“I agree with you that it doesn’t affect that. +But still—do you play chess, Sir John?”</p> + +<p>“Rarely, but I’m not your class, and I +shouldn’t care for a game at the moment.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I had not meant to suggest it. And when +you play what is the object of your attack?”</p> + +<p>“The King, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>“It is the same here—in Faloo—now. It +is too simple to amount to a problem. We +can win in one move.”</p> + +<p>“I must hear this.”</p> + +<p>“In the garden, I think. It’s not talk to be +overheard.”</p> + +<p>The two men went down the steps of the +verandah together.</p> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + + +<p>Sir John took a cigar from a golden and +armorial case and snipped the end.</p> + +<p>“Well, Hanson,” he said, “you’re a new +man on the committee, and new men bring +new ideas. So we are to attack the King, are +we? It can be done, of course. You may +leave the details to me, but if I saw the regrettable +necessity, you may take it from me +that Smith would be removed to-night. But +what I do not see is how it would do us any +good. Smith still stands between some of +these angry natives and ourselves, though it’s +a question how much longer he will do it. If +the King goes, there is still Lechworthy. +Then the <i>Snowflake</i> is coming back here. So, +you <span class="lock">see—”</span></p> + +<p>“Yes, yes,” said Hanson. “But that is +not the way the game should be played. +Shall I tell you?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly. That is what I want.” Sir +John lit his cigar, and was careful not to throw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +the match down on the lawn, for he disliked +untidiness.</p> + +<p>“Our first move is to make a feint of accepting +the situation. At the next meeting we +go through the formalities of winding up the +club; we discuss quite openly the means of +getting away from the island, and speculate as +to what will be the safest place to which to +retreat. We allow Smith to hear all this, and +from him, or from Pryce, it will go through to +Lechworthy. Nobody but you and I, Sir +John, will know it is a feint. We shall be +doing nothing that will surprise Pryce, since +he thinks it is the only thing left for us; and +he had better not be told. I know the man is +loyal, but I mean to cut out even the possibility +of a mistake. The other side will continue +the game according to their original plan. +Lechworthy and his niece will sail away in the +<i>Snowflake</i>, and take the next available steamer +for England. Our second move is then—and +not till then—to arrange for the disappearance +of Smith. And that wins us the game.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see it.”</p> + +<p>“Smith, as is common enough in these +islands, has no child; neither has he any +official and acknowledged wife, which is much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +less common. The succession would certainly +be disputed. The support and the weapons of +the white men would turn the scale in that +dispute. In other words, the new King of +Faloo would be our nominee, and would have +to carry out the conditions on which he gained +our support. He would repudiate Smith’s +scheme entirely; he would refuse any business +or political association with Lechworthy. +What can Lechworthy do? Nothing. I +doubt if he could have got Great Britain to +give this weird sort of protection to Faloo, +when the King and people of Faloo asked for +it and would pay for it. He is too practical +a visionary to attempt it when Faloo repudiates +anything of the kind.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you’ve worked it out. Smith’s a good +life, and I’d never thought about the succession +myself—you’re sure of your facts there?”</p> + +<p>“Quite sure. What do you think of it?”</p> + +<p>“Good. We must do it. But it’s no cinch.”</p> + +<p>“That’s true,” said Hanson. “You heard +what that native boy told Dr Pryce. A +rising against the white men may take place +any moment now, and might upset my scheme; +we should have to deal with it as it came and +wait chances.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I think that’s all gas. I used to believe +in it, but it would have come earlier if it had +been coming at all. I never met a native yet, +except Smith—and he has got a dash of white +man in him—who had the grit to start a thing +of that kind and run it through. I’d something +quite different in my mind. When +Lechworthy hears from the new King he will +know perfectly well that we are at the bottom +of it.”</p> + +<p>“Probably.”</p> + +<p>“Then he will give us all away.”</p> + +<p>“I doubt it. He would find it too difficult +to explain why he had not given us away +before. Besides, he is not a vindictive man; +his conscience is his only guide, and if his +conscience does not prescribe a man-hunt now +it will not prescribe it then. I know something +of Lechworthy. He would cut his hand off—and +do it cheerfully—to convert us, so that +we gave ourselves up to what is called justice; +but to pursue and to punish is not in his nature. +Besides, his gratitude to Pryce will hold him.”</p> + +<p>“You may be right. It is difficult to forecast +so far ahead, and things we have not even +imagined may happen, but you may be right. +If it comes off the position is better than ever.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +We’ve dealt with Smith with moderate success, +but there are not two Smiths and we shall do +as we like with the next king. You’ve shown +us the best game to play and we will play it. +Then, for the present, we do nothing?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” said Hanson. “When the +next meeting of committee is called we +acquiesce in Dr Pryce’s proposals. We take +first steps towards winding-up. They will +be merely paper-work, and serve to fill in time +till Lechworthy goes. Then—I leave it to you. +You must be prompt. Smith must go.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Sir John. “I think it is likely +that his death will be the result of a private +quarrel. That will be the accepted version.”</p> + +<p>“Very well. You’ll arrange all that. +Lunch, eh?”</p> + +<p>“I think so,” said Sir John. And they +turned back towards the club-house.</p> + +<p>It occurred to Lord Charles Baringstoke to +be curious as to the affairs of the club that +afternoon. His method was direct. “And +what did the committee do?” he asked Sir +John, as they sat on the verandah together.</p> + +<p>Sir John neither hesitated nor lied. He +told the exact truth so far as he knew it—as +to one transaction which had taken place in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +committee, while they were still waiting for +Dr Pryce.</p> + +<p>“We’ve given provisional election to a Mr +Pentwin, whose credentials and application +arrived by last mail. He himself arrives on +Smith’s second schooner. He should be here +in a day or two.”</p> + +<p>“I got a newspaper by the same mail. He +was Pentwin’s Popular Bank, and the police +believe he’s in Barcelona. He’s got the stuff +with him too.”</p> + +<p>“We need not go into that, Charles,” said Sir +John, with dignity. “We do not discuss the +mistakes that members here may have made +in their past life, nor the mistakes which the +police may have made. Mr Pentwin sends his +subscription and a letter of recommendation +from the widow of an old member, Herbert +Wyse.”</p> + +<p>“Didn’t know him.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Sir John. “Poor Wyse was +called to his rest before you arrived here.”</p> + +<p>Wyse had thought that he wished to get +away from the police. After a few months on +Faloo he had found that what he really wanted +to get away from was himself and the thing he +had to think about. He cut his throat.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p> + +<p>The provisional election of Pentwin had +been a matter of course. The only comment +in committee had been a remark of Hanson’s +that he would sooner have had a recommendation +from a living member of the club. As +Sir John said, if Pentwin was not suitable, he +would not remain a member; one or two such +cases had occurred before and had given no +trouble.</p> + +<p>As to the principal business of the committee, +Sir John said not one word to Lord Charles +Baringstoke, who believed that this provisional +election of Pentwin had been the principal +business and was quite satisfied. Sir John, as +has already been said, had told the truth about +the election so far as he knew it. He was +exact in saying that a subscription and letter +of recommendation from poor Mrs Wyse had +been received, and that the name given was +Pentwin. Also, the solitary passenger who +was at present cursing the cockroaches and +discomforts of Smith’s smaller trading vessel, +and enduring many things in order to reach +Faloo, called himself Pentwin and was thus +addressed by people who had time to talk to +him. The initials H. P. were on his rather +scanty luggage, and the Christian name of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +hero, or villain, of Pentwin’s Popular Bank +was undeniably Hector.</p> + +<p>But this man was not Hector Pentwin, +knew very little about him, and knew less +about bank business than he did about some +other things. Hector himself, flying from +justice with a presentiment (subsequently +fulfilled) that he would be caught and punished, +would have been much surprised had he known +that anybody was impersonating him. He +could have imagined no possible motive. Yet +the impersonator (whom we may continue to +call by the assumed name of Pentwin) had his +sound and sufficient reasons.</p> + +<p>He was a round-faced little man with a cheery +smile and an inexhaustible flow of rather +commonplace talk. He had money to spend, +and appeared immune to alcohol and anxious +to prove it. In two days he seemed quite to +have fallen into the ways of the club, and was +on the best of terms with all the members.</p> + +<p>“Pentwin will do very well,” said the +president, and the secretary agreed.</p> + +<p>The Rev. Cyril Mast extended patronage to +Pentwin, who received it with a seemly +gratitude.</p> + +<p>“Of course,” said Mast, “as a member of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +the committee I have to exercise discretion. +I can’t discuss the committee’s business.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly not,” said Pentwin. “I +shouldn’t expect it. Besides, I’m the least +curious of men.”</p> + +<p>“Apart from that, I shall be only too glad +to put you up to things.”</p> + +<p>“That’s really kind of you. I’m a new +member, but I hope to spend many happy years +here, and for that reason I don’t want to begin +by treading on the toes of other members. +You understand what I mean. Nobody has +said a word to me about Pentwin’s Popular +Bank, and I appreciate that. It shows nice +feeling. Before I make any blunder, you can +perhaps tell me what subjects to avoid with +particular members.”</p> + +<p>They chatted over the subject, and Mast +became from force of habit rather vinously +and aggressively moral on the sins of other +people. He noticed it himself and half +apologised for it.</p> + +<p>“You see, Pentwin, I have never been able +to shut my eyes to the serious side of life. +Have another drink?”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, I will,” said Pentwin, and did.</p> + +<p>All went smoothly and peacefully now at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +Exiles’ Club. A tentative order to King +Smith had been received and executed with +alacrity, and so far he had shown no disposition +to quarrel with the men whose partnership he +was renouncing. Members of the club who +had had fears of what Lechworthy might do +had been quieted by Sir John, or Hanson, or +Mast. It had all been arranged, they were +told. Pryce, clever fellow, had got Lechworthy’s +promise of silence in exchange for his +professional services to Lechworthy’s niece. +Mast had the feeling of elation which comes +to a man who after a period of depression finds +himself becoming of importance. Sir John, +after his talk with the chess-player in the +garden, had talked very seriously to Mast. +“We have a new scheme on foot,” he said. +“Pryce is not in it, and you are.” Nothing +could have made Mast better pleased. True, +he was not told what the scheme was. Until +Lechworthy’s departure nothing was to be +done except the first formal step towards the +winding up of the club; and it was generally +to be given out that Pryce had squared Lechworthy. +“Once Lechworthy has gone,” said +Sir John, “you’ll be called upon to act. +You’ll be shown what to do. Do it, and you’ll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +wipe out your past follies, and the new scheme +will go through and we shall all be safe.”</p> + +<p>Sir John had considered that whoever killed +King Smith would be very lucky indeed if he +escaped being killed in his turn. Mast had +made the trouble, and had professed his readiness +to redeem his mistake. Mast could be +spared, for he had greatly deteriorated since +his election to the committee. He might as +well die that way as from drink. Hanson had +planned the game; Sir John would play it; +Mast would be merely a miserable pawn, +gladly sacrificed for the great end.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the wretched cat’s-paw felt himself +the man of destiny. On some subjects +he might chatter freely, but he preserved an +iron discretion where Sir John enjoined it. +To any member who pressed a question he +was reassuring but gave no details. “We’ve +gagged Lechworthy all right” was a favourite +phrase with him. “You can sleep in your beds.”</p> + +<p>He did not mention Lechworthy to the new +member, for so far he had no reason to be +proud of the subject. But what Mr Pentwin +did not hear from the Rev. Cyril Mast he heard +at length from Lord Charles Baringstoke, who +had no more discretion than the club parrot.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Lechworthy—you must have heard of +him,” said Lord Charles. “Portmanteaux +and piety, you know. He’s a G.T. at present, +with a pretty niece with him. Funny his +bargin’ in here, ain’t it?”</p> + +<p>“And where did you say he was living?”</p> + +<p>Lord Charles closed one eye impressively. +“No use, young man. The same idea had +occurred to me, but there isn’t a girl in an +English high-class boarding-school who’s quite +so well looked after as Lechworthy’s Hilda. +She’s up at the King’s house, and you are not +invited to inspect the goods.”</p> + +<p>“How do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“Tell you what happened to myself. I +thought I’d have a look, just to see if anything +could be done. I never said a word to a soul +but I went off on my own. The garden of the +place is surrounded by a scraggy hedge standing +on the top of a high bank, and it occurred +to me that there was a chance the girl might be +walking or sitting out in the garden. So I +climbed up the bank and looked through the +hedge. I didn’t see the girl, but I did see +four natives with rifles. Smith has got a +young army of them up there, and they are +picked smart men. I never thought I could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +be seen, but I suppose I moved the bushes or +something. As their rifles went up to their +shoulders I dropped and rolled down the +bank. If I’d not done that I should have +been jewelled in four holes, like Sweetling’s +presentation watch that he’s so proud of. +You leave it alone, my son. It’s not healthy.”</p> + +<p>“You never tried sending in a native with +a note for the girl?” suggested Pentwin.</p> + +<p>“It’s like this. There’s a pack of servants +there, and there are the gents with rifles. +But to every other native the place is taboo. +There’s not enough tobacco and coloured +shirts in the world to bribe a native to try to +get in. You might get a boy to go as far as the +entrance and holloa. The guard would turn up, +and he could hand over his letter. But the +chances are that the letter would go straight +to the King, or to Uncle Lechworthy, or to the +doctor—who’s a bit of a boss there just now.”</p> + +<p>“What doctor’s that?”</p> + +<p>“Soames Pryce. On the committee here, +and a pretty tough proposition too. The +girl fell ill—very ill—rotten. Pryce pulled +her through and is stopping on. He’s got +Lechworthy in his pocket to do what he likes +with, they tell me.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I see,” said Pentwin. “Well, things being +so, I shan’t bother about the girl.”</p> + +<p>To do Pentwin justice he had never in the +least bothered about the girl. He knew that +he would need shortly to communicate with +a person in the King’s house, and he wished +to know how to do it, but that person would +not be Hilda Auriol. He now permitted himself +to be initiated by Lord Charles Baringstoke +into the mysteries of lizard-racing, and +took his losses with equanimity. He won +them back, and more too, at bridge that evening, +and had the honour of being congratulated +on his game by the great Sir John Sweetling +himself.</p> + +<p>“A very pleasant, cheery little fellow,” said +Sir John when Pentwin had gone up to bed. +“Self-made man, I should say. Not much +education or manners to boast of. But he’s +unpretentious and good-hearted, and his +bridge is really excellent.” Nobody values +unpretentiousness more highly than the incurably +pretentious.</p> + +<p>Pentwin occupied the room which had been +Bassett’s. He had heard the story of Bassett, +but he was not a nervous man. Alone in his +own room, his air of careless cheerfulness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +vanished. He looked quite serious, but not in +the least depressed. He had the air of a man +playing a difficult game, but a man who had +played difficult games before and with success.</p> + +<p>From his breast-pocket he took a small +canvas envelope, which contained all the +papers that he had brought with him, including +a wad of Bank of England notes and a +proof of his real identity. From the envelope +he took a sheet of memoranda, and added to +them with a sharp-pointed, indelible pencil in a +microscopic writing. He wrote slowly, though +he was familiar with the cipher which he was +using, and replaced the paper in the envelope.</p> + +<p>In pyjamas and slippers he paced up and +down the room. Through the open window +he could see high up in the distance a tangle +of lights among dark trees, where the King’s +house stood.</p> + +<p>“Well,” he said to himself, as he had often +said before, “one must see how things work +out.” He placed under his pillow the canvas +envelope, a revolver, and a leather bag containing +twenty-eight sovereigns and some odd silver. +Then he put out his lamp and got into bed.</p> + +<p>He could hear a faint murmur of voices +below. Then steps came up the stairs, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +the voices became audible. The two men +were standing at the top of the stairs now.</p> + +<p>“You’ve no reason to be nervous,” said a +querulous voice, which Pentwin recognised as +Mast’s. “You can depend on me, Sir John.”</p> + +<p>“But can I?” said a deeper voice. “It +will be at the risk of your life.”</p> + +<p>“Why can’t you tell me plainly here, and +now what it is? Why wait? I’ve shown +discretion?”</p> + +<p>“Of late? Yes. But don’t talk so loudly.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care one straw about the risk of +my life. When the time comes for me to +make good my word I shall do it. I’m only +too glad that you’ve given me the chance. +It amuses Dr Pryce to treat me as a fool and a +baby. He’ll see. Well, that doesn’t matter, +I don’t want to talk about myself.”</p> + +<p>“Quite right. Don’t talk—it’s what you do +which counts. Now you’ve got to be patient. +You can’t eat your dinner till it’s cooked. +<span class="lock">You—”</span></p> + +<p>The voices died away down the passage. +Pentwin heard a shutting of doors. All was +still. “Now,” thought Pentwin, “I wonder +what game is on there.” But it troubled him +very little, and in a few minutes he was asleep.</p> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + + +<p>Lechworthy’s project for a pamphlet +dealing with mission work in the South +Seas had never been of a very ambitious +character. It was to be nothing more than +the notes of a passing traveller, with no intention +of comprehensiveness or finality, designed +only to awaken more interest in the missions. +Very rarely did Lechworthy lay aside any work +that he had projected and actually begun; persistence +and self-reliance had been the distinguishing +notes of his commercial career. But +now he gathered together the memoranda that +he had already made, wrapped them in a big +envelope, endorsed it and sealed it.</p> + +<p>“Hilda,” he said, “you remember an idea +I had of writing something about the missionary +work, you know—I’ve given that up.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Hilda, who understood him +well, “I suppose so. There’s a good deal else, +isn’t there?”</p> + +<p>Lechworthy’s mind had always been far +less constricted than his opponents had sup<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>posed, +and he was beginning now to adjust +himself to the new ideas and facts that had +lately come within his experience. Some +change of view had been dawning upon him +before he ever reached Faloo. His belief in +Christianity as expounded by the evangelical +section of the Church of England remained +unshaken, the main pillar of his life as it had +ever been. He still felt the encouragement +of missionary enterprise to be part of his +religious duty. But he had seen things, and +he had lost faith in some of the faithful.</p> + +<p>He had found quite good men making +hypocrites and calling them native converts, +and had regretted that the wisdom of the +serpent is so seldom joined to the harmlessness +of the dove. He had found that the teaching +of Christianity had involved too often the +teaching of much which was worthless in +European civilisation and positively dangerous +when transported to these islands. With +many illustrations the King had made that +clear to him. He had found, too, that much +good work was being done by men whom he +regarded as lost heretics and spoke of as +“Romans.” To write the truth as he had +found it might do harm. And here, in this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +remote island, out of the political and commercial +atmosphere that had sometimes distorted +his vision, and far from the petty wars of +sects, specious misrepresentation refused to be +called by any prettier name. Hilda herself would +not have shrunk from it with more acute disgust.</p> + +<p>Accustomed as he was to regard all that +happened to him as specially ordained by +Providence, he meekly submitted to the change +in his plans which it seemed to him that Providence +had directed. The work which he had +designed had been taken out of his hands; it +might be that some vainglorious thoughts had +mingled with that design. And other work +had been given him. He regarded it as no +blind chance which had brought him to Faloo, +had saved him from Bassett’s revolver and +Hilda from the island fever, and had put him +into the hands of this strange native king, +with his scheme for making of his own little +island a refuge for some remnant of his race +against the devastating inroad of an unsuitable +civilisation.</p> + +<p>In his new work Lechworthy was yoked with +an unbeliever, or at least with one who doubted. +The King made no profession of Christianity. +With the fundamental facts of Christianity he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +was already acquainted, and for a philosophical +discussion of them he was always ready. He +professed a general toleration and a readiness +to be convinced by events. But he left Lechworthy +with no more than a conviction of his +honesty and a hope for his future.</p> + +<p>“You see,” said the King, one evening, “we +are very good and mild people here, and we +wish to please. On some islands they fight +very often, and they eat man. But my +people are gentle, unless they are greatly hurt, +and so also am I. You, too, I specially wish +to please, and a little lie is easy and costs +nothing. But suppose you find me out, what +then? Would you be pleased?”</p> + +<p>“I should not, sir,” said Lechworthy. “I +should resent it. In fact, it would make it +impossible for us to work together.”</p> + +<p>“All right. Very good. That is what I +thought. So I do not say I think just the +same as you and repeat pieces of your sacred +books. It would be pleasant but untrue. So +when I say something else that may please you, +then you can believe me. You go to get me +British protection, to shut out the white men, +to leave Faloo for its own people. But you +want Protestant religion. I say that shall be.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +In return I give this Protestant religion a very +good chance. I bring in the best native converts +I find, and they shall teach the religion. +Not boots, and square-face, and English +weights and measures, but just the religion. +And I build a fine church all correct. If I do not +do all I have said, then I am a liar and you may +take the British protection away from us again.”</p> + +<p>Lechworthy smiled patiently. “You will +keep talking as if I carried British protection +in my pocket. I hope that something can be +done, and I shall do my best. But how often +have I told you that it is all very doubtful and +may end in nothing?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said the King, stolidly, “you are a +political man, just the same as Gladstone. So +you understand how this can be managed.”</p> + +<p>“But I’m not at all the same as Gladstone,” +said Lechworthy. “I have not the gifts, nor the +position, nor the influence that he had. <span class="lock">I—”</span></p> + +<p>“But still you will do it. You have a +newspaper, much money, many friends. I +think you too modest. If you wish you will +do it. If you do it I will give your Protestant +religion a very good chance.”</p> + +<p>“Wouldn’t the chance be better,” said +Lechworthy, “if you allowed one white mis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>sionary. +I could select the man myself—a man +who would be in sympathy with your views.”</p> + +<p>“It is not then a religion for all races?” +asked the King. “Without the help of the +white man it cannot work—eh?” These +were calculated questions.</p> + +<p>Gradually he brought Lechworthy to agree +with him. In the face of the doubter Lechworthy +felt that he himself must show no +doubt. In uplifted moments he did really feel +enthusiastic and confident.</p> + +<p>Lechworthy went on in a steady and business-like +way, preparing his appeal for a +native Faloo, and requiring from the King +endless information. Were the people sober? +They were. As a matter of fact they had no +chance of drinking. Were they industrious? +Here the King hesitated a little. The people +of his race were naturally less active than +Europeans. But they could be made to work—oh, +yes. What were the statistics as to the +prevalence of crime and violence? There were +no statistics, but the King could give a general +assurance. Above all, was the Government +strong and stable, able to control the inhabitants, +and properly representative of their +interests?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p> + +<p>“But I myself am the Government,” said +Smith, slightly aggrieved. “And what does it +matter?”</p> + +<p>“I must show that your people are quiet +and orderly, and that they can with safety and +humanity be left to themselves; that no interference, +even in the guise of help, from the +more civilised nations is required here. It is +part of the foundation of the whole thing—the +essential foundation.”</p> + +<p>And Lechworthy went on collecting such +facts and concrete instances as he could, +showing an appetite for names and figures that +dismayed the King. None the less, the King +was quite docile and did his best. Either by +the extent of his knowledge, or by the extent +of his ignorance, he was always astounding +Lechworthy.</p> + +<p>The Exiles’ Club also astounded—and possibly +illuminated—Lechworthy. He got on well, +amazingly well, with Dr Pryce, whom he could +not help liking and admiring, and to whom he +was very deeply and sincerely grateful, but Pryce +was very reticent as to his fellow-members. It +was the King who was Lechworthy’s principal +source of information, and the King had many +strange stories to tell of the Exiles’ Club.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lechworthy had not often been brought +into contact with bad men and criminals, and +his idea of the bad man was crude to the point +of childishness. He would have admitted +that we were all sinners, and that even the best +of men have their trivial defects and lapses, +but he had always thought of criminals as men +bad all through, bad in every thought and act. +He had never realised the share in humanity +that even the worst men sometimes hold.</p> + +<p>It did not surprise him that there were occasional +scenes of disorder and excess at the +Exiles’ Club, but it did surprise him to find that +as a rule all was orderly and well-organised, +and that, without policeman or magistrate, +they obeyed the laws that they had been forced +to make. It did surprise him to hear that the +Rev. Cyril Mast, when he first came to the +island, instituted a Sunday morning service, +and that several members of the club, Sir John +Sweetling among them, attended it regularly. +It was Mast himself who, under an acute and +slightly maudlin sense of his own unworthiness, +had discontinued these services.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Smith, simply, “this Mast lives +badly, talks badly, drinks very much. But he +is a religious man and most unhappy about it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +If he had a choice I think he would sooner be +quite good.”</p> + +<p>“Every man has the choice,” said Lechworthy, +firmly; but to himself he admitted that +every man has not the same kind of choice.</p> + +<p>The King was perfectly fair, too, in speaking +of the trouble between the exiles and the +natives. It was due to one special cause, and +it was a cause which drove the natives mad; +it made them forget all benefits that they had +received, and include both the innocent and +the guilty in one condemnation.</p> + +<p>“The innocent?” said Lechworthy.</p> + +<p>“Yes, innocent so far as the natives are +concerned. The native servants at the club +are treated well as a rule, well fed and well +paid, and they get many presents. Some of +the members have handled them roughly at +times, through drink or anger, but that is +uncommon, and Sir John does not like it. If +any of them is sick then Pryce comes and +makes him well again, just as he is making +your niece well again, and never anything to +pay. The native who has something good—fish +or fruit or fresh milk, can sell it better to +the white man than to another native. It is a +few of the younger men at the club who have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> +greatly wronged my people, but there are many +of my people who would like to destroy them +all.”</p> + +<p>“I wish you could tell me more of this Dr +Pryce. Apart from all he has done for us I like +him. I can’t understand your ideas about him.”</p> + +<p>“What ideas?”</p> + +<p>“When Hilda was ill you said—truly, I +think—that Dr Pryce could save her. But +you said it would be necessary to frighten him. +Did you frighten him? Why was it necessary?”</p> + +<p>“I thought he might like to kill her—you +too. But I did not frighten him, and I believe +I was wrong.”</p> + +<p>“And that story of yours about the <i>Snowflake</i>?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know. He asked me to get him +a passage on the <i>Snowflake</i>. I wondered—and +then I warned you. I said the ship and all +aboard her would be lost. I think I was +right then, and that it would not be so now.”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, I think you were wrong. He +knows that I would give him that passage, that +I’d give him the boat, that I’d give him anything. +He has asked for nothing.”</p> + +<p>“That is because, when your niece was ill, +I made a little mistake, and he saw that I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> +suspected him. If he is suspected then his +plan is no good. He would know that.”</p> + +<p>“It’s not an easy thing to find a good man +who’ll sacrifice his life for his friends. Why +should Dr Pryce do it for the scum at the +Exiles’ Club?”</p> + +<p>Smith shook his head. “I do not understand +him,” he said. “He is the one man there that I +do not see through. He is straight—yes, but +then he has plenty. He does not take much +care of his own skin. I myself have seen him +risk his life—just for a game, for the sport. +Why not then also for the sake of the men with +whom he has lived for so long?”</p> + +<p>“But you think he means us no harm now?”</p> + +<p>The King waved his hand, as though to put +the suggestion aside. “I leave him here alone +with you. He takes you out—you and your +niece—shows you the island. Very well. +Every day he has a hundred chances, if he +meant harm. If I did not know that he meant +no harm he would have no chance at all. You +are the guest of the King of Faloo, and that is +an important thing with me. Besides, on +your safety all my plan depends.”</p> + +<p>“I’m glad you think that way about him +now. You certainly would not be able to con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>vince +me of the opposite. Why did he ever +come to Faloo?”</p> + +<p>The King shrugged his shoulders. “I did +once ask him that question. I have not asked +it of many of the exiles. The man they call +Charles will chat and laugh about anything, +past or present. Bassett once, when he had +drunk a little cognac, told me about himself. +Mast has made confessions when he was drunk, +and said they were all lies when he was sober +again. But most of them will not speak of the +past, and questions make them very angry. +However, I was very sick, and Pryce looked +after me. Perhaps he saved my life—who +knows? So I thought he would make me his +friend, and one night when he had sat late with +me I did ask him.”</p> + +<p>“And what did he say?”</p> + +<p>“He said, ‘Go to the devil!’ and put the +little thermometer-machine in my mouth.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Lechworthy, “I’ve half a +mind to ask him myself.”</p> + +<p>“If you take my advice, then no. If he +wishes to tell you, he will tell you. If he does +not wish it will be no good to ask.”</p> + +<p>The general tendency of Lechworthy’s mind +was optimistic. His perplexities did not lead<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +him to depression. With a complete confidence +in an omnipotent power of good, +cognisant of and concerned in the smallest +details of even the least of the human swarm, +pessimism is impossible. Side by side with +“I do not understand” comes the consolatory +“I do not need to understand.” It is probable +that a patient submission to the limitation of +knowledge, at those very points where the +thirst to know is most acute, is one of the conditions +of happiness. It is rare among the +thoughtful men of the day.</p> + +<p>His nature being simple and without vanity, +the ludicrous had no terrors for him. When, +for example, Tiva and Ioia made for him a +garland of flowers, he wore it with as little +concern as he would have worn a hat, and met +the cheerful chaff of Hilda or the doctor quite +unperturbed. He took a paternal interest in +Tiva and Ioia, but after one trial relinquished +any attempt to instruct them in Christianity. +Their readiness to make any declaration which +they thought was wanted, without the slightest +regard to its basis in fact, baffled him, and their +unintentional irreverence appalled him. He +had to admit that his knowledge of the native +mind was insufficient for his purpose. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +found himself at times regarding these pleasant, +brown, graceful, unthinking creatures rather +as some new kind of pet animal than as human +beings; and, finding himself in this attitude, +repented of it. He and Hilda learned from +them a native game, a sort of “knuckle-bones.” +It is doubtful whether Tiva or Ioia cheated the +more shamelessly at it; when detected, they +laughed cheerfully. In return he taught them +to avoid a frequent use of the word “damn” +as a simple intensive, and answered so far as +he could their many questions about Queen +Victoria and the British method of executing +murderers. He was equally ready to instruct +them about tube railways and telephones. +But when he spoke of such things they became +very polite but asked no questions; they did +not believe a word he said on those subjects +and were not interested.</p> + +<p>It was a time of relief after danger—danger +to his own life and to Hilda’s. And of any +further danger that threatened Lechworthy +knew little or nothing. But the patrol at the +King’s house got plenty of shooting-practice +under the direction of the King himself; and +the King wore the air of a man who was +watching and listening, always listening.</p> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + + +<p>Lechworthy, instructed by Dr Soames +Pryce, caught fishes with names like +music and colours like the rainbow. Also, +instructed by Dr Soames Pryce, he mastered +the management of his simple snap-shot +camera and learned developing and printing. +Every day he was busy with King Smith in +working out the details of the scheme for +a native Faloo and preparing draft statements +to advocate it in England. “My holiday!” +he exclaimed to Hilda. “Why, I’ve never +had so much to do in my life. And I like it.”</p> + +<p>Hilda, on the other hand, did very little. +She had been since her illness quieter and +gentler. She was listless and at times a little +melancholy. She let her management of her +uncle slip through her fingers, and even ceased +to manage herself; she was ready for anything +that Tiva or Ioia suggested, unless, of course, +it happened to be something that she thought +Dr Pryce would not like. Her uncle, vaguely +conscious of the change in her, said that she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +was still a little weakened by her illness. +Hilda put it all down to the enervating climate. +Tiva and Ioia, who had their own ideas, produced +for her a new music—songs in the +native tongue that spoke also in the universal +tongue. They sang one moonlit night on the +verandah outside Hilda’s room, when she had +just gone to bed. It was the music of ecstasy +and surrender. Hilda, in her night-gown, +stepped bare-footed across the room and +pushed the plaited blind aside. “Tell me +what the words of that mean,” said Hilda.</p> + +<p>Tiva hesitated. She threw her head back +and her dark poetical eyes looked up to the +golden moon. “He mean,” she said in a voice +that was like a caress, “he mean ‘I love you +pretty dam much.’”</p> + +<p>“You darlings!” said Hilda. “Sing it all +through once more, please.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you so much,” she called when the +music stopped, and gave one long sigh. These +island nights, she thought, were beyond words, +too beautiful, overpowering.</p> + +<p>On the following morning Mr Lechworthy +desired to speak with Dr Pryce, and the two +men walked in the garden together.</p> + +<p>“Doctor,” said Lechworthy, “I’ve said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +very little so far about all you’ve done for us. +You haven’t let me,” he added plaintively.</p> + +<p>“You see, Lechworthy,” said Pryce, “you +do exaggerate the thing so. If a bricklayer +who had nothing to do came and laid a few +bricks for you, you wouldn’t think it anything +to make a fuss about—especially if he did it +because he liked it. If an unemployed doctor +does a little doctoring for you, and enjoys +doing it, that’s the same thing. It’s what he’s +there for. Really, Hilda’s case gave me some +new and valuable experience, and I’m very +glad to have had it.”</p> + +<p>The transition from Miss Auriol to Hilda had +come at one point of Hilda’s illness; it had +come by natural evolution from the circumstances. +Afterwards, when Pryce resumed the +“Miss Auriol,” Hilda wanted to know if he +was angry with her about anything, and the +“Miss Auriol” was then definitely abandoned.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Lechworthy, “that’s your way +of looking at it. But you must see my way +of looking at it too. Now I don’t want to +think about the financial side.”</p> + +<p>“There is none and can be none.”</p> + +<p>“So you have decided, and I’ve submitted +to it. But I tell you this—if any doctor in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +London had done as much for me, my conscience +would not have let me sleep until I had paid +him a very big fee indeed; and even then I +should have felt indebted to him every day of +my life. If I can pass over that financial side +it’s because even in the very few days that I +have known you I have come to regard you as +a friend. I do not make friends easily. In +questions of politics, and even, I fear, in +questions of faith, we are as far apart as the +poles. But I—I’ve formed a very high +opinion of you, doctor, and I want your +friendship.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Pryce, “you force my hand. +I thought it would come to it. Before you +say anything further, Lechworthy, there is +something you ought to be told. Sit down +here, won’t you? At one time, to save the +men of the Exiles’ Club, I was ready and eager +to murder you and many others.”</p> + +<p>“You meant,” said Lechworthy, “to sink +the <i>Snowflake</i>?”</p> + +<p>“I did.”</p> + +<p>Lechworthy did not look shocked, nor even +surprised. “Well,” he said, “the King +warned me not to give you a passage. We +speak in confidence, you and I; you will not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> +let him know that I told you this and will not +show any resentment.”</p> + +<p>Pryce smiled. “Of course not.”</p> + +<p>“Now at first, doctor, I said to myself that +you must be a very wicked man. I was +horrified. And then—I thank God for it—I +heard the voice of conscience. That voice +said, ‘Before you judge others, look at yourself, +Lechworthy.’ Now I’m going to tell you. +Some years ago a candidate for Parliament, +a man not of my colour, asked permission to +address the men at my works in their dinner-hour. +I ought to have refused him altogether, +or to have seen to it that he had a fair hearing. +I could have done either, and either would +have been right. I did what was wrong. I +said that if he addressed them it must be at +his own risk, well knowing that he would take +the risk. And then I dropped a hint here and +a hint there that if intruders said that they +would chance rough handling they could +hardly grumble if they got it. That was +enough. The candidate turned up and was +fool enough to bring his wife with him. Stones +were thrown, and the woman was seriously +injured; it was a chance that she was not +killed. There’s a well-known saying, doctor,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +‘<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">qui facit per alium facit per se</i>.’ It’s true too. +If that woman had died it would have been I—and +not the man who threw the stone—who +would have been in the sight of God her +murderer. Some of my men went to prison +over that affair; when they came out I did +what I could to make up to them for it—because +they had been punished for my fault. +That incident did me harm in my business and +in my political career, and that I could stand; +but it also gave the enemy their opening, and +injured the good cause that I was trying to +help. It’s terribly easy to be misled by one’s +political passions; when one is doing evil that +good may come one forgets that one is doing +evil. That was one of the things I had to +keep in my mind when Smith gave me that +warning about you. But there were others. +You won’t mind if I put it plainly.”</p> + +<p>“By all means,” said Pryce, rolling a +cigarette.</p> + +<p>“I thought about the Exiles’ Club. Here +are these poor chaps, I thought to myself, who +have found a corner of the world to hide in. +They no longer constitute a danger to Society. +They ask nothing but to be left alone—to be +hunted no longer. Can it be wondered at that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> +they thought my coming meant the loss of +their liberty or their lives? I am no hunter of +men, but they didn’t know that. And if they +thought that, can it be wondered at that they +were ready to take any step, however desperately +wicked, to get rid of the informer and +save themselves? Ah! and I thought something +else, doctor, and it turned out to be right too.”</p> + +<p>“And what was that?”</p> + +<p>“I thought to myself, the man who is to +sink the <i>Snowflake</i> must face an almost absolute +certainty of his own death. He must sacrifice +himself—body and soul—to help the others. +If ever I see him I shall see the finest man on +the island.”</p> + +<p>Pryce laughed. “This is becoming grotesque, +Lechworthy. If you can understand +the line I took, and can forgive it because you +understand it, that’s far more than I have +any right to expect, and I’m grateful. But +for goodness sake don’t try to put me upon a +pedestal. It—it won’t wash, you know.”</p> + +<p>“Listen to me a bit, Pryce. Hilda fell ill. +The King told me you were the only man here +who could save her—otherwise she would die. +But he pointed out that it gave you a chance—that +there would be a great risk.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span></p> + +<p>“That was nonsense. Smith’s a barbarian +and doesn’t understand things. I came to you +as a doctor.”</p> + +<p>“Anyhow, you came, and I saw you and +talked to you. I’ve come across many men +in my life, doctor, and I make up my mind +about them quickly now. If Hilda had died +I should still have been quite sure that you +had done your very best for her, and would +have seen to it that the King took the same +view. But you saved her. Now I’ll tell you +something else; if Hilda had not fallen ill, and +we had disregarded the King’s warning and +taken you aboard the <i>Snowflake</i>—well, I don’t +know what you would have done.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t know myself,” said Pryce.</p> + +<p>“But I do know that Hilda and I would +have been safe. You would not have carried +out your intentions.”</p> + +<p>“Possibly not.”</p> + +<p>“And for telling me of those intentions, +which you were not bound to do, I respect you +the more. You may have meant to be my +enemy, but you have been indeed my friend. +And that brings me to what I wanted to say. +You’ve done more for me than I can say. +Now then, what will you let me do for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> +you? Out of friendship tell me. I set no +limit.”</p> + +<p>“You’re a good man, Lechworthy,” said +Pryce, “and you set no limit. But though +I’m not a good man, I do. I accept your +friendship gladly and I’m proud to have it, +but we’d better let the rest go.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Lechworthy, “I had an idea, +but it’s rather difficult to tell about it because +I don’t want to put impertinent questions to +you. You might fairly tell me that your +private history is no concern of mine.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Pryce, “up at the club it is +not etiquette to speak about what happened +before we came here. The chaps there have +never shown any curiosity as to my story, and +they have never been told it. I think I know +what they imagine—something quite unspeakable +and having, as it happens, no basis in +fact. It has never mattered to me. They +don’t care, and I don’t. And what was your +idea?”</p> + +<p>“I want to take you back to England with +us. I believe in you, and I can’t bear to see +you wasting your life here. I don’t know +what you’ve done, but I can’t believe it is +anything which can’t be cleared up and put<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +right. Anything that my influence and persistent +exertions could do for you would be +done. Now, is there any reason against it?”</p> + +<p>“As I said before, you’re a good man, +Lechworthy. But, unfortunately, there is +every reason against it. It would be quite +impossible. Look here, I’ll tell you the story. +There was a woman who had been married for +ten years. They had been for her ten years +of hell—a peculiar and special hell that you +know nothing about. And then her husband +fell ill, and I attended him. He was rather +loathsome, but I did what I could for him and +he began to recover. One day I was called to +the house and was told that he was dead; I +went up, satisfied myself as to the cause of +death, and said nothing. I never told the +woman that I knew what she had done, let her +believe that I was deceived, and gave a certificate +that the man had died from his illness. +You see, she was a good woman by nature, but +had been driven near to madness by ten years +of—well, only a doctor could appreciate it. +I was a very young man, and I was heartily +sorry for her; her husband was better dead +anyway. Three months later this woman, +being a woman, broke down and confessed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> +everything. Exhumation and discovery +followed—arsenic was a stupid thing to have +used. There was my ruin ready-made.”</p> + +<p>“So you came to Faloo?”</p> + +<p>“Not then. It was not fear, but disgust, +that drove me to Faloo. I settled my little +account with the law. They gave me a year +in the second division, and it was considered +that I had been let off lightly. When I came +out, I found of course that I had been turned +out of my profession. Two stories were +confidently believed about me, and both were +false. The first was that I had conspired with +the woman to kill the man—that had been +distinctly disproved, but it made no difference. +The second was equally false but less easy to +disprove. It was the corollary that the +knowing young-man-of-the-world always puts +to such a case—that the woman had been my +mistress. The only reason why I was not +turned out of my clubs was because I had +forestalled them by resigning. Some old +friends cut me, but I had expected that. The +old friends who did not cut me were more +difficult to bear—I could not stand the duffer +who failed to hide that he was proudly conscious +of being merciful. I happened to hear from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> +one of these men that a desk-waiter at one of +my old clubs had cut and run with a deal of +the club’s money. I remembered that waiter, +and in many ways he wasn’t a bad chap—he’s +our head-waiter at the Exiles’ Club to-day. +I hunted out his wife, thinking she might need +some help. I saw her through a bad illness +and gave her money, and she was grateful. +She told me about Faloo, and I decided that +moment to come here. The good people +wouldn’t have me, so I thought I’d try the +wicked. I’ve been here ever since—and, by +God, I’ve suffered less from the sins of Faloo +than I did from the virtues of my own country. +It’s over now. The exiles must leave this +place, of course, and they know it. They +are probably making their plans now. The +only plan I’ve got is never to set foot in +England again—never, never!”</p> + +<p>It was in vain that Lechworthy argued. +He did not pretend to condone what the doctor +had done. But he pointed out that after all +it was done under circumstances which would +arouse some sympathy. The punishment, +apart from the legal punishment, had been +slanderous, vindictive and shameful; it might, +if it were put before the public in the proper<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +light, produce a strong reaction in the doctor’s +favour. He might be reinstated in his profession.</p> + +<p>“Lechworthy,” said Pryce, with rather +grim good-humour, “when I was a little boy I +did not like to have my head patted. And +nowadays I don’t think I should like to be +defended and excused; it doesn’t seem to me +to be the treatment for a grown-up man.”</p> + +<p>“You’re too proud, doctor,” said Lechworthy. +“Think of my position. If I’d +never come here you could have gone on undisturbed. +I must go on with the King’s +great scheme. I’ve put my hand to the +plough and I can’t look back. The saving +of a race is a grand thing, and I feel called to +do my utmost to help. It’s work almost comparable +to the work of Wilberforce, whose +name I bear. But if it succeeds, then I drive +you from the island which you have made your +refuge, and scatter the men whom you have +made your friends.”</p> + +<p>“You may make your mind easy, Lechworthy. +I’ve thought the thing over at +length now, and I don’t take quite the view +that I did at first. There are too many people +in England to-day who know of Faloo, there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span>fore, +sooner or later, the police would get to +know of it. Faloo may be an independent +nation having no extradition or other treaties, +but in practice that would not amount to a row +of beans. You do these poor devils who have +been my companions for the last few years no +disservice; if you put them on the run again, +you at anyrate give them a good start. You +do me no disservice either, for I’ve grown +pretty restless of late and pretty sick of things. +I shall be glad to start wandering again.”</p> + +<p>“Then there’s one thing you must let me do. +When Hilda and I reach Tahiti we must part +from the <i>Snowflake</i>. We’ve got fond of her, +and we don’t want to sell her. We’d sooner +a friend had her. You can well afford to +keep her. I shall send her back to Faloo, +doctor, and in future she will be yours. You +will start your wanderings in her.”</p> + +<p>Pryce reflected a moment. “Very well,” +he said. “I shall sail in the boat I meant to +sink, but I don’t know that it matters. Thank +you very much, Lechworthy. I shall be glad +to take the <i>Snowflake</i> and to let you be disproportionately +generous to me.”</p> + +<p>They shook hands on it.</p> + +<p>The meeting of the committee of the Exiles’<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> +Club had been fixed for the following day, but +Pryce decided after all not to be present at it. +He wrote a short note to Sweetling telling him +that he would agree with any arrangements +made for winding up the club, and that there +was no further news. He added that a general +meeting would of course be called and all the +members informed.</p> + +<p>That night, as on several previous nights, +the King and Lechworthy went to their work +directly after dinner, and Hilda and Pryce +were left alone together. The air seemed hot +and heavy, the smoke from the doctor’s +cigarette hung in lifeless coils.</p> + +<p>“Hilda,” said the doctor, “it ought to be +pleasant down by the pool to-night. Shall we +go there?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Hilda. “I should like that.”</p> + +<p>The sky was powdered with stars. The +falling water made an unending melody, and +here by the pool the air seemed cooler and +fresher.</p> + +<p>Hilda, lying at full length on the mat that +had been spread for her, spoke drowsily.</p> + +<p>“To-night,” she said, “nothing that happened +before is real or matters a bit. I’ve +always been here, lying by the pool and listen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>ing +to the water—here at the world’s end, out +of all the trouble. Is there really a place called +London?”</p> + +<p>“Wonder what’s going on there just now?” +said Pryce. “Dawn perhaps. Did you often +see the dawn in London, Hilda?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, driving back from dances, with the +violin music still swinging in my head, tired +out and feeling as if I should never sleep again. +The dawn seems cruel somehow then. But +you know.”</p> + +<p>“It’s long since I was there, but I remember +a dawn down by the river. Spots of light +were dotted across it where the bridges come. +Then the sky turned pale, without a touch of +colour, and the lights on the bridges went out. +A mass of black in the Embankment gardens +began to sort itself out into shrubs and plants. +About twenty minutes later you could see +the blue of the gardener’s lobelias. I hate +lobelias.”</p> + +<p>“So do I,” echoed Hilda. “So do I.”</p> + +<p>“It was an anæmic, civilised dawn, different +to the rush of glory we get here. And the +tattered derelicts that one met, trying to +snatch sleep on the seats, or wandering about +and cursing God for having made them another<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> +day. That was before I had ever heard of +Faloo, but I remember thinking even then that +there ought to be a place somewhere for the chaps +who have gone under—a refuge for the people +for whom civilisation has been too much.”</p> + +<p>“I want you to know,” said Hilda, “that +I’ve heard your story. My uncle told me. I +made him.”</p> + +<p>“My very disreputable story,” said Pryce, +grimly. “Well, it’s better not to sail under +false colours, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>Her hand stole out and pressed his arm +gently. “You must come back to England +with us,” she said, speaking quickly. “It’s +too horrible that you should have been +wronged like this—punished and tortured and +maligned for an act of mercy. That’s a thing +that must be put right. These blind fools +must be made to see. Oh, when I think about +it, there are people that I could kill.”</p> + +<p>“You’re splendid, Hilda. But it can’t be. +One must take the world as one finds it. If +doctors who gave false death-certificates were +not severely punished, that would open the +door—‘open the door’ is the recognised +phrase, I think—to all manner of crime. You +see it has to be. And though you might make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> +a few kind people forgive what I did wrongly, +you could never make the world forgive me +for having been in prison. I should never get +back to where I was. But it doesn’t matter +much, you know. Somewhere in these +islands I shall find my place. And if I’m +ever inclined to feel sore about it I can always +remember that I’ve met you, and what you +thought and said, bless you!”</p> + +<p>“You won’t come back to England?”</p> + +<p>“Can’t, Hilda.”</p> + +<p>She sat up now. She plucked a leaf, and +pressed its cool surface to her warm lips, and +flung it aside. Then she looked steadily into +his eyes and spoke deliberately.</p> + +<p>“Then I too ... am not going back.”</p> + +<p>“What are you saying, Hilda?”</p> + +<p>Her eyes closed. “Don’t you know? I +know, though you have never told me—said no +word of it. I know that you love me just as +surely as I love you, dear. I know, too, why +you have not told. It’s because you saved my +life, and because you think that if we went +back to England and you married me you +would ruin it.”</p> + +<p>“I should not have let you know; I’ve +not played the game,” said Pryce. “True?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> +Why, it’s the only truth in my life. I love +you, Hilda. I worship you. I adore you. I +know now that I could never have let you go +without telling you. But I know, too, that I +am not even worthy to speak to you—to kiss +the hem of your garment.”</p> + +<p>“Come to me,” she murmured almost inaudibly, +and swayed towards him.</p> + +<p>They lay side by side now, his arms about +her, his lips on hers. For a while neither +spoke.</p> + +<p>“Three more days,” he said at last. “Three +more days in Paradise, dearest.”</p> + +<p>“Not only three more days, but all our +lives,” she whispered.</p> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + + +<p>“Hanson,” said Sir John Sweetling, +“you are leaving to me all arrangements +for the removal of Smith.”</p> + +<p>“I am,” said Hanson. “In fact, I would +sooner know nothing about it.”</p> + +<p>“Well, the time’s getting very near.”</p> + +<p>“It is.”</p> + +<p>“In connection with the—er—removal of +Smith, I should like to take Mast fully into our +confidence. We have the committee this morning, +and Pryce won’t be there. I’ve heard from +him. It is my belief that you are right, and +that Pryce cares for nothing but Hilda Auriol, +and won’t come here again. You and Mast +and myself will make a solid triumvirate.”</p> + +<p>“Very well,” said Hanson. “I don’t think +there’ll be any harm in it.”</p> + +<p>So Sir John Sweetling unfolded this scheme +to Mast, and outlined the horrible part which +Mast himself would be expected to play in it. +But he put the best appearance on it, as he did +upon everything.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Smith is a traitor,” said Sir John, sternly. +“He owes everything to us. Before we came, +he owned practically nothing but unsaleable +land. Now he is established as a trader, and +is doing really well. Suddenly he throws us +over. Why? Simply because he thinks that +with Lechworthy as a partner he will be able +to screw a little more money out of it for himself. +He betrays us all to Lechworthy, and I +consider even now that disaster may come of +it. For that crime—there is no other word for +it—the punishment is death, and it will be +for you to administer the punishment. It’s +rough-and-ready justice perhaps, but it is +justice. When a coloured native race and a +white race live together on an island, the +natives must be made to take their proper +position; the penalty for treachery must be +sharp and sudden if it is to act as a deterrent. +I’m speaking of principles which are tried and +sound—principles that have helped to build +up the Empire. Hanson is fully with me. +The lesson must be given, if only as a salutary +warning to the other natives.”</p> + +<p>“I’m to do this?” asked Mast, staring +stupidly. “That was what you meant—that +I was to kill Smith?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Precisely. The work of a public executioner +is unpleasant work, though of course no +moral responsibility attaches to it. The responsibility +rests with Hanson and myself, +who discussed the man’s case and decided what +was to be done with him. Of course if you +find yourself too shaky and nervous, we must +get another man for the work. But you’ve +made a good many protestations, Mast. Precisely +because it is unpleasant work, you ought +to accept it and to be glad of a chance of repairing +the injury you have done to the members +of this club.”</p> + +<p>“I shall do it,” said Mast, doggedly. “But +I don’t see how it repairs anything. I don’t +see how it helps us at all.”</p> + +<p>It was only then that Sir John spoke of the +certainty that a disputed succession would follow +upon the death of Smith, and of the use +that the exiles would be able to make of it. +It was so much better to represent Smith’s +death as a punishment for a past crime than +as a murder for a future advantage.</p> + +<p>Mast remained spiritless and rather sullen. +He was a little stunned at finding what was +required of him. He had liked Smith—had +been rather intimate with him at one time.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span></p> + +<p>“There’s no other way?” he asked.</p> + +<p>Sir John became a little impatient. “That’s +all been talked out. Look here, Mast, if your +promises were so much hot air, and you’re too +frightened to do what you said you would, own +up at once and waste no more of our time.”</p> + +<p>Mast scowled. “On the day that Lechworthy +leaves Faloo the King will die,” he said. +“I shall kill him. Does that satisfy you?”</p> + +<p>“Quite.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I want to think it over. I needn’t +wait for this damned committee meeting, +need I?”</p> + +<p>“Of course you must wait. Pryce is away, +and we must have three for the look of the +thing. It won’t take twenty minutes.”</p> + +<p>At the meeting Sir John read out Soames +Pryce’s brief letter. “Well, now,” he said, +“what do you think, Hanson?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing to be done,” said Hanson, +stolidly. “Read and noted, that’s all. In +Pryce’s absence we needn’t go through a farce +of winding-up. We can’t call a general meeting +of the members yet, because we can’t yet +put before them the alternative scheme (of +which Pryce knows nothing) to which the +majority of the committee are agreed.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p> + +<p>“That is so,” said Sir John. Mast nodded +assent.</p> + +<p>There was a meeting of three other men on +the island that morning. The King and Lechworthy +had walked out together just beyond +the garden of the King’s house, when a little +man came running along the road towards them. +The King recognised him at once as the new +member of the Exiles’ Club. Pentwin had +been presented to the King on landing. Now +members of the Exiles’ Club knew that they +were not wanted in the neighbourhood of the +King’s house; moreover, the King reflected +that one of these men had already attempted +Lechworthy’s life. The King was suspicious.</p> + +<p>Pentwin took off his hat and bowed profoundly +to the King. Might he be permitted? +He wished to speak privately with +Mr Lechworthy. He had business of importance +with him.</p> + +<p>“I think you haven’t,” said the King, +bluntly. Lechworthy looked from one to the +other with mild surprise.</p> + +<p>The little man was not in the least offended. +“Oh, but I can prove that to Mr Lechworthy’s +satisfaction,” he said smiling, and dived one +hand into his pocket.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span></p> + +<p>In a flash the King’s revolver was out, and +covering him. “No, you don’t,” said the +King.</p> + +<p>Pentwin stepped back a pace. “It’s all +right, sir,” he said apologetically, “it’s only +papers.”</p> + +<p>He drew an envelope from his pocket and +handed it to Lechworthy. Smith toyed pensively +with his revolver.</p> + +<p>From the envelope Lechworthy drew a +visiting-card printed in blue. It bore the name +of Mr Henry Parget. On the left-hand corner +was printed “Criminal Investigation Department, +Scotland Yard.” The envelope contained +two other papers, and Lechworthy +glanced quickly through them.</p> + +<p>“Quite correct apparently,” he said. “I +don’t think, sir, there is anything to fear. +This gentleman really has business with me, +and I shall be glad to talk it over with him.”</p> + +<p>“You may assure yourself that I carry no +weapons of any kind,” added the man from +Scotland Yard who had passed as Pentwin.</p> + +<p>The King did assure himself thoroughly—he +had searched men before. “You must +understand,” he said, “why I am so careful, +Mr Pentwin. My friend, Mr Lechworthy, has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> +already been shot at by one of the white men +here; the man who did it is dead.”</p> + +<p>“Quite natural that you should be careful, +sir,” said Parget, smiling. “And now may I +get on to my business?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly. You will take him up to the +house, Mr Lechworthy? That’s right. And +send one of the boys with him when he goes, +will you? You see, Mr Pentwin, a stranger +wandering alone there would be shot at once; +I am careful for you as well as for Mr Lechworthy.”</p> + +<p>The King strode off down the road with a +rapid and yet graceful gait.</p> + +<p>“Now, then, Mr Parget,” said Lechworthy, +“keep close to me and you’ll be all right.”</p> + +<p>They turned and entered the garden.</p> + +<p>“Grand place this, sir,” said Parget, looking +round him. “I’ve seen nothing like it in my +life before. The King of this island seems a +pretty active man—bit suspicious too.”</p> + +<p>“You mustn’t mind that, Mr Parget.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t,” said Mr Parget, “I’d sooner be +suspected wrongly than rightly any day. I +suppose, sir, you have very little difficulty in +guessing why I am here.”</p> + +<p>“None,” said Mr Lechworthy, “but I am<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> +wondering a little how it was that Scotland +Yard came to send you.”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, to tell the truth, it was a bit of +luck. You may have heard of Pentwin’s +Popular Bank.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve seen his advertisements; we’ve always +refused them in my paper.”</p> + +<p>“And quite right too; the thing was obvious. +Well, this chap Pentwin seems to have realised +that he’d come to the end of it, and he made +his preparations for leaving. But he had to +skip before the preparations were quite finished; +in fact our men were into his house only twenty +minutes after he’d left. A batch of letters +came for Pentwin, and we took the liberty of +opening and reading them. One was from a +Mrs Wyse, widow of a man whom we wanted +and never got. It seems he came out here and +committed suicide here. Well, Mrs Wyse +was a friend of Pentwin’s—a friend and perhaps +a bit more. That letter was full of references +to the Exiles’ Club, mentioned Sweetling’s +name, told Pentwin how to make his +application and send his subscription, and gave +him his route to the island. There was another +letter of introduction enclosed. If those +letters had come one post earlier, there’s not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> +a doubt that Pentwin would have been safe +in Faloo by now, and Scotland Yard would +have been none the wiser.”</p> + +<p>They had reached the house, and Lechworthy +pushed forward a deck-chair. “Sit +down, won’t you?” he said.</p> + +<p>“Not sorry to,” said Parget. “I’ve been +on my feet for three hours, waiting for the +chance to have a word with you. Well, as I +was saying, it was thought worth while to +look into this Exiles’ Club, if only on Sweetling’s +account. We’ve wanted Sweetling for +years and wanted him badly. He was the +Hazeley Cement swindle, as you may remember, +and the Tarlton Building Company, and a lot +more.”</p> + +<p>“I do. In fact I wrote about him.”</p> + +<p>“And I daresay you were pretty severe with +us for letting him get away—no matter, we +bear no malice. The public says nothing +when we hit, but it makes a lot of fuss when we +miss. Well, I was told off for this job. I’d +got Mrs Wyse’s letter. I’d only got to call +myself Pentwin, and follow her instructions, +and it was all plain sailing. And a pretty +haul I’ve made. There’s Sweetling my-lording +it over everybody; Hanson, who killed his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +girl; Mast—a nasty case; Fellowes, who sold +the secret explosive; Lord Charles Baringstoke, +who forged his uncle’s name. Trimmer, +of the Cornish coal fraud—a whole lot of back +numbers nicely bound together.”</p> + +<p>“It’s all very well,” said Lechworthy, “it’s +all very well, but you can’t touch those men. +Faloo is independent, and has no extradition +treaty with Great Britain.”</p> + +<p>“Very likely,” said Parget, with a laugh. +“I’m not going to touch them. All I’ve got +to do is to report. I’m only a subordinate +officer at present. The rest will be for my +chiefs to settle, and if they don’t find some +way of dealing with this cock-sparrow of an +island, I’m a Dutchman.”</p> + +<p>“Now to come to the point; what do you +want with me, Mr Parget?”</p> + +<p>“I require you to assist an officer in the +execution of his duty. I’m in a hole. They +made all the arrangements for me to get here, +but they left it to me to get away again the +best way I could. Now if I tried for a passage +on Smith’s schooner, it wouldn’t do. I’ve +paid my subscription, and if I were Pentwin, +Faloo would be the only place for me. Why +should I want to go? They’d smell a rat.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +That man Hanson isn’t any too satisfied with +me; he tried a bit of cross-examination last +night, and though I kept my end up I don’t +like it. What I’ve got to do is to disappear. +There’s been a case of that before. There was +a chap called Duncombe who got too fond of +a native girl that was already—well—appropriated. +He went out one fine night and he +didn’t come back. Everybody at the club +knows that he was killed. So I talk a deal +about the native girls up at the club. I’ve +the reputation of a Lothario. Sir John Sweetling +has given me a good dressing-down about +it already. As a matter of fact I’ve had nothing +to do with these wenches. I’ve got a +girl at home and wish I was safe back again +with her. But that’s where it is, you know. +If I go out one night, and don’t come back, +and leave all my luggage behind me, including +two or three letters to Pentwin and Pentwin’s +pocket-knife with his name and address on +it, then even Hanson will have no doubt that +I was Pentwin, and that I have been speared +or knived by a jealous man.”</p> + +<p>“Very likely. But what will you do really, +Mr Parget? How does my help come in?”</p> + +<p>“The night I disappear will be the night<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +after the <i>Snowflake</i> has come back. You’ll +send a note privately to the skipper that I +shall be coming aboard. I’ve learned to work +a native canoe all right. On the <i>Snowflake</i> +I shall lie low until you’re ready to sail. +Nobody but the King knows that I’ve spoken +with you, for at the club I’ve always professed +to be scared of going near the King’s house, +and I gather that the King has nothing more +to do with men from the club nowadays. +Besides, I fancy a word from you would keep +him quiet. And then—well, I should ask you +to lend me some clothes, take me to Tahiti, +and say nothing to anybody. I pay for what +I have, of course, and after Tahiti I can +manage for myself.”</p> + +<p>“Very well. I’ll do all that for you.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you very much. And I’m sorry to +give so much trouble. The luck’s with me to +find a gentleman like you touring these islands +just now.”</p> + +<p>“That’s all right. But I doubt if you’ll +make as big a scoop out of it as you think.”</p> + +<p>“You mean the extradition? Oh, that will +be arranged somehow.”</p> + +<p>Mr Lechworthy was not thinking of extradition +at all. He was thinking that owing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +to his participation in the King’s scheme of a +native Faloo the exiles already had their warning, +and long before Scotland Yard had got its +gun to its shoulder the birds would have flown +far out of range. But he said nothing of this +to Parget at present; it might possibly make a +yarn for a dull evening on the <i>Snowflake</i>.</p> + +<p>“Of course,” added Parget, “I needn’t +remind you, sir, that all I’ve said has been +said in confidence. Not one <span class="lock">word—”</span></p> + +<p>“I assure you, Mr Parget, that I have no +inclination to say a word. I shall not even +mention the matter to my niece until we are +all aboard the <i>Snowflake</i>. Your instructions +to me will be carried out absolutely.”</p> + +<p>“And when does the boat get in?”</p> + +<p>“The King thinks that with luck it might +be here to-morrow or the day after.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll keep a look-out. Thank you again, sir.”</p> + +<p>Lechworthy himself escorted the little man +back to the garden entrance. Parget saw the +natives with their rifles and seemed a little +puzzled. “What does the King want all +those men up here for? Where’s the danger? +What’s he afraid of?”</p> + +<p>“I can’t tell you,” said Lechworthy. “In +fact, I don’t know. But I have noticed that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> +King never does anything without a reason, +and it is generally a pretty good reason.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Parget, “they’re the finest +set of natives I’ve seen yet anywhere. I +shan’t be round here again. We meet on +the <i>Snowflake</i>. <i>Au revoir</i>, Mr Lechworthy.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Au revoir</i>,” echoed Lechworthy, mechanically.</p> + +<p>There is a kind of insolence in <i>au revoir</i>, a +confidence in the future. Neither man ever +saw the other again.</p> + +<p>Lechworthy wandered back to the house. +He was deep in thought. From the dark +hidden pool, where Tiva and Ioia were bathing +together, came a burst of musical laughter. +On the verandah he found Hilda, with the +wreath of white flowers that Ioia had brought +her in her dark hair; Soames Pryce stood on +the steps below looking up at her, saying something +in a low voice to which she listened with +happiness.</p> + +<p>Lechworthy’s mind was preoccupied, not +only with his dream of a native Faloo, but with +this Parget, this scrap of London that met him +suddenly in the Southern Seas. He admired +the courage and resource of the man, as much +as he hated his profession—necessary of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> +course, lamentably necessary, but scarcely +ennobling and foreign to that way in which +Lechworthy had come to regard all sinners. +Obviously Parget had heard nothing of the +impending dissolution of the club, and Lechworthy, +who did not know that this was a +secret reserved for the committee, was rather +puzzled that Parget had not heard. On the +<i>Snowflake</i> he would expound to Parget the +scheme for a native Faloo, and his fears that +the members of the club had got to hear of it +and would now disperse. Of course Scotland +Yard might still be able to close its hand on +them—or might not. Lechworthy smiled +placidly. Those fibres of his being which had +made him a great Christian were curiously +interwoven with those other fibres which had +made him a successful man of business.</p> + +<p>Not only was Lechworthy’s mind preoccupied. +There was another reason why +he could not read the story in Hilda’s eyes. +He was absolutely blind to all sex romance. +Every engagement among his wide circle of +friends and acquaintances came to him as a +surprise, though it were a foregone conclusion +to the rest of the circle. He had found many +interests in life and absorbing interests outside<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +the realm of sex romance. Hilda, doubtless, +would be married one day, but the day was +always very vague and very far away. Hilda +had determined that her uncle was to be told +nothing at present. On the <i>Snowflake</i> she +would tell him all, and slowly win him over. +She would make him see that her happiness +was here with her lover—not in Europe without +him. At Tahiti she expected to part from her +uncle, and to remain there until the <i>Snowflake</i> +brought Pryce to her.</p> + +<p>“You see, dear,” she said, “just at the +beginning of things one wants to shut out all +the rest of the world, even one’s nearest +relatives and people to whom one is devoted. +In London that can never be. If our engagement +had been the normal product of a London +season, you would have had to take me to see +people, and I should have had to take you to +see others, and it would have been all congratulations, +and interference, and horrors of +that kind. Here, thank heaven, that can be +avoided. We will avoid it.”</p> + +<p>To everything Pryce agreed. “It isn’t +that I don’t know, Hilda. I do. I know I +have no right to accept such a sacrifice as you +make. I know that nobody can think that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> +I’ve been straight about this. It can’t be +helped. It doesn’t matter. Since last night, +down by the pool, it’s seemed to me as if since +the world began only one thing has ever +mattered. Oh, it’s too good—too good to +happen. Your uncle will insist on carrying +you off to England, and he will be right too.”</p> + +<p>“He would try to do that if he were an +ordinary man with a conventional set of views. +He would not succeed, because I am of age +and in this—in this alone—I will not be controlled +at all. But he is not an ordinary man. +He is as broad in some of his views as he is +narrow in others. He has little respect for +social conventions, and he is losing some of +his respect for the law. He thinks nobody +beyond reclamation—except the ritualists and +a few politicians. He has had the courage of +his opinions all his life; whatever his convictions +have been, right or wrong, he has +always acted on them. Then, again, he trusts +me as well as he loves me. If I tell him that I +know where my happiness is, he will believe +me, and he loves me too much to refuse it.”</p> + +<p>They talked a long time together that +morning. Yet still, when all was said, Pryce +was haunted by the same thought. It was like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> +a dream of unearthly beauty, such as before +he had never even imagined, a dream to which +the awakening must come.</p> + +<p>That evening the wind fell absolutely. The +<i>Snowflake</i> would undoubtedly be delayed. +The air was hot and still, and over the pool in +the garden there hung a steamy vapour. All +living things in the island were strangely +silent. The night before the flying-foxes had +screamed and squabbled round the house. +But to-night everything was silent, as if waiting +peacefully for some event.</p> + +<p>When they all came out on the verandah +after dinner, the silence seemed to oppress +them so that they spoke in lower tones than +usual. The King, as if to break the spell, +ordered Tiva and Ioia to make music, but +their song had a wild sorrow in it.</p> + +<p>“What music is that, Tiva?” asked Hilda, +who sat deep in the shadow.</p> + +<p>Tiva answered abstractedly in her native +tongue. The King translated, a little impatiently: +“She says that it is the music of +this night. She talks much nonsense.”</p> + +<p>There were a few moments of silence and +then Lechworthy took his briar pipe from his +mouth and fired a calm point-blank question.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Doctor, what was it like, living with all +those bad men at the club?”</p> + +<p>“With some of them,” said Pryce, meditatively, +“one forgot that they were bad men at +all. Some were weak rotters, but I’ve found +men just as weak against whom, thanks to their +circumstances, the law had never a word to say. +I suppose the fact is that the bad are not always +bad and the good are not always good; and for +the sake of society the law has to make a distinction +which sometimes has no basis in fact.”</p> + +<p>“You do not surprise me,” said Lechworthy. +“You rediscover an old truth, that we are all +sinners—God forgive us.” He sucked diligently +at his pipe for a few seconds, and resumed: +“It’s struck me sometimes that, even +from the point of view of society, a man with +habitual bad temper, or a man who drinks hard, +or a man who won’t work, or a man who gambles +with money that his family needs, may, though +the law lets him go free, do more harm than +some who have robbed or even murdered.”</p> + +<p>Pryce, who had gone to bed earlier than usual +that night, had been asleep for an hour when he +was awakened by a touch on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Come outside,” said the voice of King +Smith. “Quietly—as quickly as you can.”</p> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + + +<p>Pryce did not wait to dress. Thrusting +his feet into a pair of slippers, he +hurried into the garden. There on the terrace +the King stood, pointing downward and seaward. +But there was no need to point.</p> + +<p>Far below, amid the dark of the trees, a +giant flame leaped hungry and quivering into +the air. A column of smoke rose vertically, +the head of the column spreading out in all +directions against a grey sky; it looked like +some monstrous swaying mushroom.</p> + +<p>“Good God!” said Pryce. “It’s the club.”</p> + +<p>“Scarcely fifteen minutes ago; and now +look. I’m going down there directly, taking +all the men here with me.” The King spoke +in a quiet, even voice.</p> + +<p>Pryce shook his head. “No good,” he said. +“You can save nobody. The men who are +not out of that place already are dead. The +whole show will be burned to the ground in less +than half-an-hour—you know how it’s built.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +Wonder what started it. Some careless boozer, +I suppose.”</p> + +<p>The King put one hand on his arm. “No,” +he said. “The fire started in two places at +once, at either end of the building. It has +come at last—the rising of my people.”</p> + +<p>From below came faintly the sound of a +crash, and for a moment the stalk of that +swaying mushroom was spangled high with a +million sparks.</p> + +<p>“I had seen signs, but I thought I held +them still. The leaders I know—three brothers—men +<span class="lock">who—”</span></p> + +<p>A shrill cry came up from the dark trees by +the burning house, followed by a roar of +voices; and then, short and sharp, the bark +of the revolvers. For a moment the King lost +all his self-possession. He wrung his hands. +He flung his arms wide. “O my people, my +people!” he cried.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Pryce, grimly, “your people +seem to have left you out of this bean-feast. +They’ve forgotten you, Smith.”</p> + +<p>The King turned on him savagely. “And +they must be made to remember. That is +why I go. If need be, of ten men nine must +die, that the tenth may remember for ever.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span></p> + +<p>“If that was Hanson shooting just now, +you’ll find some of the nine dead already. +But you’re taking all the patrol with you—well, +what’s left for this place?”</p> + +<p>“This place is taboo. They dare not +come.”</p> + +<p>“Yesterday you would have told me that +they dare not burn down the club and murder +the white men. There’s liquor in the club, +any amount of it, and you may bet your life +your precious people have looted it. They respect +the taboo when they’re sober, but they’ll +respect nothing when they’re mad with drink.”</p> + +<p>“What am I to do? As it is, I have only +seventy-five men against many hundreds.”</p> + +<p>“But they’re the only seventy-five who +have rifles and can use them. There’s your +own prestige too, and all the hocus-pocus and +mummery that you know how to work on +them.”</p> + +<p>“I need all. I must win to-night and at +once. If I fail, the prestige is gone and we +are all dead men to-morrow. Besides, I shall +be between this house and the rebels. How +many of them will get past me? Very few. +And you shoot well, Pryce.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’m not going to shoot any worse than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +I can help. But I can’t be at fifty different +points at once.”</p> + +<p>“Well, yes,” the King admitted, “there is +a risk. And, whatever happens, I cannot +lose Lechworthy.”</p> + +<p>“I shouldn’t,” said Pryce. “Valuable man, +Lechworthy.”</p> + +<p>“Look here, Pryce. I cannot stay another +moment. I leave you six men with rifles. +You must do the best you can.”</p> + +<p>Pryce shrugged his shoulders. Six were not +enough, he thought, not nearly enough. But +he could see that the King was right. Unless +the rebels were overawed and crushed at once, +all would be lost.</p> + +<p>“Very well,” he said. “Pick out six that +can shoot better than they can run.”</p> + +<p>“You shall have six good men. You’ll +see Lechworthy and put as good a face on it +as you can. Ah, they’re bringing my horse. +Good-bye, Pryce.”</p> + +<p>“Good-bye and luck to you,” said Pryce, +and turned back to the house. As he dressed, +he could hear voices in the big room at the +front of the house, and was not surprised; the +noise had been enough to waken anybody. +The sound of firing had ceased now, but that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> +vague tumultuous roar of voices went on continuously, +mingling with the sound of the surf.</p> + +<p>He was rolling a cigarette as he entered the +big room. It had struck him that white drill +might be inconveniently conspicuous and he +wore a suit of dark flannel. He carried no +weapon, and his movements were rather +slower and more leisurely than usual.</p> + +<p>Tiva and Ioia cowered in a corner and wept. +Hilda, in a dressing-gown with her hair loose, +sat on the table and nursed a morocco-covered +case. Pryce knew what was in it. They had +practised shooting together. Lechworthy, +fully dressed, paced the room, his hands +locked behind him.</p> + +<p>“Noisy crowd down there, ain’t they?” +said Pryce, cheerily.</p> + +<p>“What on earth is happening, Pryce?” +asked Lechworthy. “It’s—it’s terrific.”</p> + +<p>“Some of the natives seem to have turned +a bit unruly—started bonfires and crackers, +and little jokes of that kind. Disgraceful +behaviour. Smith has gone down with the +patrol to check their enthusiasm. They’ll all +be quiet enough presently. They’re in a +mortal funk of the King.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve been out on the verandah,” said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +Lechworthy, “and it seemed much worse +than you say. There was the sound of firing +quite undoubtedly.”</p> + +<p>“Very likely,” said Pryce. “Some of these +chaps are fond of loosing off their guns when +they get excited. I daresay it looked and +sounded far worse than it really is. By the way, +Hilda, I thought your medical attendant told +you to go to bed not later than half-past ten.”</p> + +<p>“So I did,” said Hilda. “I—I was disturbed.”</p> + +<p>“Well, this little picnic won’t last long, and +really it’s not worth sitting up for. You +ought to be in bed, you know.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t think there’s any chance the +rioters will come this way?” asked Lechworthy.</p> + +<p>“No,” said Pryce, boldly. “We’re taboo. +The ordinary native would sooner stand up +and be shot at than set foot inside this garden. +Besides, Smith will hold them. And if by any +chance a few should be lucky enough to get +through and mad enough to come this way, +Smith has not taken all the men; he’s left a +small army to protect this place with myself +as their general, and I wonder what funny job +I shall take on next. Come, I don’t want to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> +hurry anybody. But you can all sleep peacefully +in your beds, and the sooner you go to +them the sooner I can look after my chaps.”</p> + +<p>Lechworthy seemed quite reassured. He +said good-night to Pryce and Hilda, and went +off, taking Hilda with him.</p> + +<p>Pryce turned on Tiva and Ioia. He laughed +heartily at them. He made comic imitations +of their wailing and lament. They ceased to +weep, and became very angry. And suddenly +Dr Pryce became very serious. He spoke to +them in the native tongue. He gave them +various instructions. There were some simple +things which he wanted them to do, but they +were things that might make a good deal of +difference. They were quick to understand. +They had great faith in Dr Pryce, even if he +sometimes made them very angry. As he sent +them off, Hilda came back into the room again.</p> + +<p>“What were you saying to them?” she +asked.</p> + +<p>“Oh—telling them not to be silly.”</p> + +<p>She clutched his arm. “I want to come +with you, dear. Let me. You know that +I can shoot.”</p> + +<p>He was very gentle with her. “Yes,” he +said, as he caressed her hair, “you’re a good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> +shot, and this is splendid of you. Well, it will +only be waiting and watching for a long, long +time yet. And if you were there, I’m afraid I +should be watching you most of the time, +instead of—other things. Most probably +there’ll be nothing happening at all, and you’d +be up all night to no purpose, and I should feel +bad about it. But if the very worst did +happen, and one of these idiots did get past +me and up to the house, it would be a great +comfort to know that there was a revolver +there waiting for him, and waiting where he +would least expect it.”</p> + +<p>He managed to persuade her that it was in +the house that she would be of the greatest +help. “I wish you could get to sleep,” he said.</p> + +<p>She shook her head. “I would if I could,” +she said simply. “I like to do everything you +say.”</p> + +<p>“Well, lie down at any rate.”</p> + +<p>“I will. You know my window. You +might come there sometimes, if you get a +chance, to tell me how things are going.”</p> + +<p>“Right. I expect there’ll be nothing to +tell. Good-night, darling.” For one moment +he held her in his arms and kissed her, and then +hurried out, picking up his revolvers as he went.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p> + +<p>He found his six men waiting for him. One +of them held a torch, and Pryce made him +put it out at once. Then he stationed his men +at the different points from which they were +to keep a look-out, not far from one another, +along the hedge-crowned bank at the foot of +the garden. Of course an attack from some +other direction was quite possible, but the +place was too large and the men at his disposal +too few to keep a watch all round. It would +have been impossible, even if he had made use +of the boys who acted as house-servants, and +he had decided not to use them for this purpose +at all. They had no training and too +much temperament; they would have been +certain to see what was not there, and to make +a noise at the critical moment when silence +was essential. He kept them within the house, +where under the direction of Tiva and Ioia +they filled buckets and soaked blankets in +order that they might deal at once with any +attempt to fire the place. This being done, +Tiva and Ioia, as Pryce had directed, extinguished +every light in the house.</p> + +<p>On the whole, Pryce was not ill-satisfied. +The rebels, he could see now, had lit torches; +a hundred points of light circled among the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> +dark trees below him. If they came carrying +torches, they would be a clear mark. Also, +if they came at all, they would be mad with +liquor, and the strategy of the drunken is not +to be feared. They would take the shortest +and nearest road, and make a frontal attack +at the point where Pryce’s men kept watch. +Here between the high bank and the plantations +beyond was a broad belt clear of cover, +and there was plenty of reflected light at present; +it seemed unlikely that any party of the +rebels could get across the clearing without +being seen. Pryce was pleased, too, with the +six men that Smith had left him. They were +very keen, and they were quick to understand +what was expected of them.</p> + +<p>Going off by himself to see that all was right +at the back of the house, Pryce was a little +surprised to encounter Lechworthy, wearing +his semi-clerical felt hat and calmly enjoying +his briar pipe.</p> + +<p>“Hullo!” said Pryce. “Thought you were +in bed.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Lechworthy. “You don’t +mind, do you? I said nothing just now, +because I didn’t want to make Hilda nervous, +but I should like to be in this. I can’t shoot,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> +but I can keep a look-out for you. My eyesight’s +good and I can do what I’m +told.”</p> + +<p>“Right,” said Pryce. “I’m glad to have +you. I was just thinking that I could do with +another man. Come along with me and I’ll +place you. By the way, you might knock +that pipe out. There’s a breath of wind got +up and those beggars have keen noses. You +see, my idea is that if they do come they shall +think we are quite unprepared—all in bed +and asleep, trusting to Smith and the men with +him. Gives us a better chance, eh?”</p> + +<p>Lechworthy’s pipe was already back in his +pocket. “I see,” he said. “Quite sound, I +think. Is this my place?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. You watch the road. Neither to +right nor to left—just the road. If they come +at all, I hope they’ll come by the road. It’ll +mean they’re being pretty careless. If you +see anything on the road, don’t shout. Move +along the bank to your left till you come to +one of the men of the patrol, and tell him; he +knows what to do. It’s rather dull work, but +don’t go to sleep; the thing one’s looking for +generally comes ten seconds after one has +stopped looking.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Quite so,” said Lechworthy. “I do not +think I shall go to sleep.”</p> + +<p>The rebels constituted about three-quarters +of the native male population of Faloo. But, +as the three brothers who led them were well +aware, they were very little to be depended +on. And for this reason the leaders had not +dared to disclose the whole of their plan. The +Exiles’ Club was to be burned down, and those +who escaped from the flames were to be +slaughtered. The leaders found it expedient +to declare that no attack on the King or +the King’s property was intended, and that +although in this destruction of the white men +they would be disobeying the King’s orders, +they would really be carrying out his secret +wishes, and would readily be forgiven. The +feeling against the men of the Exiles’ Club +was immensely strong, and so far the leaders +felt confident.</p> + +<p>The second part of their plan they did not +venture yet to disclose, for only in the excitement +induced by victory and by liquor looted +from the club could they hope to find followers +to take part in its execution. It was proposed +then to attack the King’s house; the +two white men there were to be killed, and an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> +exact vengeance was to be taken on the white +woman. The King’s safety was to depend on +the terms that he would make with the rebels. +Now the taboo was a real thing to the natives, +and equally real was their loyalty to the King +and their superstitious fear of his powers; +even their hatred of the men of the Exiles’ +Club would not have led them to enter upon +its attack at all, if they had known what sequel +to it was intended.</p> + +<p>The first part of the plan was not well +executed, and with prompt action it is probable +that many of the members of the club +would have escaped. Had any precautions +against fire been taken, it is possible that even +the club-house, in spite of the inflammable +material used in its construction, might have +been saved. The task of firing the club-house +had been entrusted to natives who were club-servants, +and in their eagerness they started +the two fires at least an hour before the time +agreed upon, and before the cordon of armed +natives had closed round the club-grounds. +Several of the members had not yet gone to bed +and were still in the card-room; Sir John +Sweetling and Hanson were among the +number. But though the fires were discovered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> +almost immediately, there was no fire-extinguishing +apparatus and no adequate water-supply. +The attempts made to beat out the +fire failed completely and only wasted time. +With such rapidity did the flames spread that, +although the alarm was given at once, there +were still men in the bedrooms when the sheet +of fire swept up the flimsy staircase. Most of +them made a jump from the windows and +escaped. One, a little man who had passed +by the name of Pentwin, broke his leg in his +fall and lay fainting with agony in the long +grass at the back of the house.</p> + +<p>Those who had escaped wasted much time in +saving such furniture and stores as they could, +dragging it on to the lawn. And there they +stood around it stupidly, wondering what would +happen next. Half of them did not know how +the fire had originated, and did not realise that +the native rising, so long talked of, had taken +place at last. Mast knew perhaps, but he was +demented and useless. Sir John and Hanson +knew, but they were chiefly concerned in seeing +that all had escaped safely from the fire.</p> + +<p>It was bright as day on the lawn. There +was a card-table, brought out just as it was, +with loose cards and used glasses on it. There<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> +were heaps of Standard oil-tins. There were +casks of spirits and rows of bottles with gold-foil +round their necks. There was a jumble +of bent-wood chairs and lounges, with legs shot +cataleptically outwards and cushions shed +abroad. There were piles of table-linen and +full plate-baskets, mirrors in gold frames and +a mezzotint of “The Soul’s Awakening.” +Lord Charles Baringstoke went from one man +to another, displaying a small square box +of plaited grass with some exultation. “See +that?” he said. “That’s my lizard. I +saved the little beggar. He lost me half a quid +only last night, but I saved him—damn him.” +Nobody took much notice of him. Most of +them stood quite still, without word or movement, +staring at the fire as if under a spell. +Some were bare-footed and in pyjamas, just +as they had come from their beds.</p> + +<p>They were equally unmoved when Mast, +his eyes blazing with insanity, climbed up on +a chair, flung his arms wide and raved. “The +judgment of God is upon us,” he shouted, +“the judgment of God! This is the day of +Tyre and Sidon. Not with hyssop but with +fire must we be made clean of our sins—this is +the commandment revealed to me. Come then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> +to the baptism of fire!” He stepped down and +would have thrown himself into the burning +building, but Sir John flung him roughly to the +ground, and he lay there weeping. Sir John +had a club-list in his hand and Hanson at his +shoulder. Together they checked the list to see +if any were missing. A little distance away the +parrot jumped and fluttered on its perch, rattling +its chain furiously, drawing innumerable corks.</p> + +<p>“Five not here,” said Hanson, “and all +men who slept in the house. I’ll run round +to the back to see if I can find any of them.”</p> + +<p>There he found a little man with a broken +leg, moaning with pain. A canvas envelope +had jerked out of the man’s pocket as he fell. +It lay on the grass with the contents half out +of it. Amongst them was a visiting-card +printed in blue, and by the light of the fire +Hanson read it. The maimed man made a +clutch for the other papers but it was Hanson +who got them. He glanced through them +quickly, neglecting those that were written +in cypher, and then flung them into the fire.</p> + +<p>“You’ve not played a bad game,” he said, +“Mr Parget of the C.I.D.”</p> + +<p>Parget lay still now with closed eyes, +breathing hard.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span></p> + +<p>“You might have won,” said Hanson, “or +again you might not, for I had my doubts +about you. Anyhow, our friends have pitched +the board over, and it can’t be played out. +I bear no malice. We can’t take you with us +with that broken leg, and I don’t like to leave +you to the natives. Better put you to sleep, +eh?”</p> + +<p>Parget nodded his head twice. There was +blood on his lower lip, as he bit hard on it.</p> + +<p>“Keep your eyes shut,” said Hanson. He +took his revolver from his pocket and shot the +man through the head. The crash of a falling +floor drowned the sound of the shot. A volley +of sparks flew skyward.</p> + +<p>Hanson rejoined Sir John. “Only one man +there, and he’s dead—Pentwin. We’d better +get together, go round to the back and make a +dash for it. We might be able to get through.”</p> + +<p>A few minutes before, this might have been +done, but it was too late now. The fire had +given the signal, and the whole place was surrounded. +Before Hanson and Sir John could +get their men together, there was one loud yell +and then an answering roar of voices, as from +all sides out of the dark of the trees the natives +poured in upon the white men.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span></p> + +<p>Some of the natives had antiquated firearms, +but the greater number were armed with +knives and spears. They were without discipline; +they fired almost at random, and in +consequence native killed native. Rotten +barrels burst at the first shot. But numbers +prevailed; a few revolvers could do little +against this great tide of maddened humanity.</p> + +<p>Yet, with no chance for their lives, the +exiles fought desperately. Hanson, who had +dropped on one knee behind a barrel, emptied +his revolver twice and effectively before he +went down, stabbed from behind in the neck. +Sir John had already fallen, passing his weapon +as he fell to an unarmed man behind him. +Lord Charles Baringstoke was the last to go, +and for a few minutes he seemed to bear a +charmed life. He stood erect and smiling, his +eyes alert and watchful; he never wasted a +shot, and never missed a chance to reload. +Possibly for the first time in his life he had +realised his situation; certainly there was a +nobility in his bearing that none had seen there +before. His personal degradation seemed to +have slipped from him, leaving only an +ancestral inheritance of quiet and courage in +the face of death. He was quick, quick as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> +light; three times he swung round rapidly +and dropped the native whose knife was +almost on him. Then all around him came +a gleam of white teeth and lean brown arms +dragging at him. He was surrounded and +went down. His smoke-grimed hands +clutched hard at the ground. “How could I +help it?” he gurgled as he died, and spoke +maybe his fitting epitaph.</p> + +<p>Now torches were lit from the burning building. +The casks of liquor were set flowing, and +a dense crowd gathered round them, treading +the dead men under foot, stretching out cups +made of the half-shell of a cokernut. The +noise was terrific, and the leaders were powerless +to restrain the men who had followed +them. The three brothers stood apart and +conferred together, quarrelling violently. So +far they had won, but two of them thought +that nothing further could be done with this +disorganised mob. The youngest was for +marching immediately on the King’s house. +He had a small personal following on whom +he thought he could depend. His elder +brothers shrugged their shoulders. Of what +use would those few be against the King and +his well-armed men?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span></p> + +<p>They did not know that even as they spoke the +King was not a hundred yards away from them. +The reckless victors had kept no watch of any +kind, and the King had been able to bring his +men into the orange-grove unperceived.</p> + +<p>Suddenly into the great mob that sang and +struggled round the casks on the lawn, there +poured a volley from sixty-nine rifles. The +noise of shout and song stopped abruptly; +there were moans from the wounded on the +ground and no other sound at all. Scarcely +knowing what had happened, astounded and +helpless, the survivors looked to their leaders. +But before they could speak there came a rush +of big-built men from the trees. Two of the +leaders were bound hand and foot; the third, the +youngest of the brothers, managed to escape.</p> + +<p>And now the King himself rode out on to the +lawn. He worked his horse in and out through +the crowd, speaking to them as he went. If +they wished to live, he told them, they must +remain where they were. They shrank from +him in shame, turning their eyes away, like +unruly schoolboys caught by their master. +As he passed they squatted down on the earth +and watched to see what he would do. He +rode to the upper end of the lawn. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> +building had burned low now; there was a +great mass of red-hot embers over the surface +of which a light flame skipped, dropping down +and bobbing up again. Here, in front of the +fire, the two leaders were brought to him. +He dismounted and looked at them long, till +they grew afraid of his eyes. Then he gave +the order and four men of the patrol took one +of the brothers, swung him rhythmically and +hurled him into the red-hot furnace.</p> + +<p>With the other brother the King dealt +differently. As he looked at him, he began +to loosen the cord on the man’s wrists, speaking +softly as he did so. “See,” he said, +“what has happened to you. You can no +longer move except as I will it. There, your +hands are no longer bound; I have taken off +the cord; but one wrist clings to the other and +you cannot get them apart. Your feet also +are no longer bound, but they are stuck tight +to the earth so that you cannot raise them. +The fingers of your hands are cramped and useless—quite +useless. Here is a knife to kill me; +you cannot grasp it and it falls to the ground.”</p> + +<p>The crowd watched breathlessly. They saw +the proffered knife, and their leader’s failure +to hold it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span></p> + +<p>The King spoke to the man again. He told +him that he was a very fine man and a great +house should be prepared for him. “Turn +round and you will see it.”</p> + +<p>The man turned, expressionless, his eyes wide +open; he stared at the pile of glowing timber.</p> + +<p>“A beautiful house with many lights,” said +the King, softly, and the man’s face smiled +now in response. “They wait for you there. +You are tired, and they will spread soft mats +for you that you may sleep. Go quickly. +You must.”</p> + +<p>The man ran forward, floundered for a few +steps among the red-hot embers, then threw +up his arms and fell full length. The flakes +of burning wood closed over him like a wave +of crimson sea; a gross and yellow smoke rose +where he had fallen.</p> + +<p>The King mounted his horse and called +aloud. “You have seen—remember it well, +remember it well! To those who throw down +their arms and go back forthwith to their huts, +I grant their lives.”</p> + +<p>Helped or driven by the men of the patrol, +they threw down their knives and spears and +slunk away down to the huts that were massed +in a straggling street on the shore.</p> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + + +<p>Many of the rebels had fallen to the +revolvers of the white men at bay, +and many more to the rifles of the patrol. +Two of their leaders had perished before their +eyes, and the death of one of them, slave to the +fixed eyes and whispered words of the King, +had seemed to them miraculous. How could +they have been mad enough to contend against +such a power? Spiritless and unarmed, thrust +on by the patrol with the butt of the rifle, they +staggered down the slopes to their huts on the +beach.</p> + +<p>But the King knew well enough how dangerously +incomplete his victory was. The +youngest of the three brothers had got clear +away, and he had taken men with him. They +should have been followed of course, but the +King had been reluctant to spare a man until +he was certain of the main body of the rebels. +The first sign of his mistake was a cloud of +smoke rolling up from his offices and stores +on the beach below. The King thought of his +spirit-vats and galloped off.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span></p> + +<p>The fire was extinguished soon after the +King reached the spot. There were plenty +of buckets, and the beaten rebels, no longer +rebellious, worked hard to prove their return +to loyalty. They formed a line down to the +sea, and the buckets passed quickly from hand +to hand. Very little damage was done. But +the incendiary had gained all he wanted—a +certain amount of time and a clear road up to +the King’s house.</p> + +<p>But the watchers up at the King’s house +also saw the cloud of smoke, and it made them +alert again, just when they had come to the +conclusion that all was well over and that the +King had won.</p> + +<p>“Of course it may have been an accident,” +said Pryce to Lechworthy. “With all these +torches dodging about, there’s nothing more +likely. And the fact that it was put out so +quickly looks like that. Still, it’s just possible +that there’s somebody who’s not quite satisfied +yet. We’ll take no risks.”</p> + +<p>“Quite so,” said Lechworthy. “I’ll keep +my eye on the road. The light’s not so good +as it was.”</p> + +<p>“We shall have the dawn in less than an +hour now.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p> + +<p>Pryce snatched a moment for a word with +Hilda, and went on his round of his men. On +his way back some minutes later Lechworthy +came towards him.</p> + +<p>“Come and look at this, doctor. Those +lights far down the road—are they coming or +going?”</p> + +<p>Pryce looked in silence for a few seconds. +“Coming,” he said. “Also the chaps appear +to be singing. You’ve done well, Lechworthy. +Now you go on to the house while we teach +them to sing a different tune.”</p> + +<p>He went off along the bank. Lechworthy +did not go to the house; he stood back where +he could see what happened without being in +the way.</p> + +<p>Pryce returned with his six men and placed +them. They could not be seen, and their rifles +commanded the road. They were steady and +quiet. Pryce showed them a point on the road. +When the rebels reached that point, Pryce +would give the word to fire. They seemed to +come very slowly.</p> + +<p>But they neared the point at last. One man +walked before the rest, waving a torch and +singing loudly. At parts of his song the rest +broke into laughter. They came noisily, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> +disorder, without precaution; evidently they +looked for an easy and certain triumph, in the +absence of the King and the patrol.</p> + +<p>“Sampson,” said Pryce to the man nearest +him, “what’s that chap singing?” Pryce +could not make it out, though he knew +something of the native language.</p> + +<p>The patrol man whom he had addressed as +Sampson prided himself on his English. He +translated a few phrases of the song. They +concerned the white woman at the King’s +house.</p> + +<p>“Thanks,” said Pryce. “I’m just going to +give the word. Mark the singer, Sampson, +and let’s see if you can shoot. Fire!”</p> + +<p>There were about a score of men on the road, +and four fell at the first volley; the singer +was one of the four, and Sampson smiled. +The rest stood gaping, taken utterly by +surprise. A second and a third volley followed +in quick succession. The few who were left +fled down the road in panic.</p> + +<p>Sampson straightened his back and patted +his rifle. “Very good,” he said complacently. +“Dead shot. Very good.”</p> + +<p>“You’re all right,” said Pryce, “but the +two at the end of the line spoiled the bag.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> +Pryce sent them off now to the back of the +house, and as he turned saw Lechworthy. +“So you meant to see the last of it after all,” +he said.</p> + +<p>“But it’s terrible,” said Lechworthy, +“terrible. I’ve seen nothing like this before, +you know. One moment dancing and singing—the +next moment dead.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Pryce, “we didn’t invite them. +And somebody had got to die over this game.”</p> + +<p>“It’s self-defence, I know. Doctor, where +should we have been without you? We owe +everything to you.”</p> + +<p>“Me?” said Pryce, cheerfully. “Why, I’ve +had my hands in my pockets all the time. I +haven’t done a blessed thing. <span class="lock">I—”</span></p> + +<p>He stopped short. Far away down the +road came the sound of rifle-fire.</p> + +<p>“What’s that mean, doctor?”</p> + +<p>“In all probability it means that the few +who escaped from us have had the bad luck +to run into Smith and his patrol on their way +back to the house. They’ll be here in five +minutes. You might go and tell Hilda that +the show’s over.”</p> + +<p>“I will,” said Lechworthy. He had been +much moved. He almost resented the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> +flippancy with which Pryce spoke, though he +knew that this flippancy was but part of a +mask that hid something fine.</p> + +<p>As Lechworthy turned away, Pryce pulled +his papers and pouch from his pocket. He +could smoke at last. He rolled a cigarette—a +cigarette that he was not destined to smoke.</p> + +<p>Lechworthy was about twenty yards away +when a dark figure rose suddenly from the +bushes and made a dash at him with knife +raised. Pryce’s revolver was just in time; +the man dropped almost at Lechworthy’s feet.</p> + +<p>“Run for the house,” shouted Pryce, and +at the same moment he was stabbed with two +quick thrusts in the back and in the right arm. +His revolver dropped on the ground, and he +flung himself on it. His assailant rushed on +towards Lechworthy, who still stood irresolute.</p> + +<p>Pryce raised himself on his knees, taking +his revolver in his left hand, less conscious of +physical pain than of pleasure in his knowledge +that he had made left-hand shooting his +speciality. Lechworthy was in the line of fire +and he had to be very careful; it was his +second shot that brought the native down.</p> + +<p>He still waited on his knees, his revolver in +his hand. He did not know in the least who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> +these two men were who had appeared just +at the very moment when all danger of attack +seemed over. It did not appear that there +were more than two. He could hear his own +six men running towards him—they had heard +the sound of firing—and he could hear distinctly +on the road the sound of a horse’s hoofs +and the tramp of men. It was all right then, +and the King had returned. The warm blood +poured steadily down his right arm. Suddenly +he was conscious that Lechworthy was standing +by him. “Are you hurt, Pryce?” +Lechworthy was saying anxiously. “Are you +hurt?”</p> + +<p>“Bit of a scratch,” said Pryce. “Better +say nothing to her. Probably looks <span class="lock">worse—”</span></p> + +<p>And then he collapsed, just as the King and +the patrol entered the garden.</p> + +<p>It has already been said that the youngest of +the three brothers who led the rebellion had +by firing the stores and offices on the beach +gained time and a clear road to the King’s +house. He had drawn the King and the +patrol down from the point which they should +have occupied. But he started on his way up +to the King’s house with his small following +absolutely out of hand. They had triumphed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> +over the white man, the King himself had +failed to lay hands on them, they had burnt +the King’s stores; and now they would burn +the King’s house, and it would all be perfectly +easy. They had drunk freely on the lawn of +the Exiles’ Club and had found more liquor +on the beach. Their leader would have had +them go up in silence, without torches, working +their way through the thick of the plantation. +But they found the road easier, and in their +intoxication insisted on treating this last advance +as a triumphant procession. Noisy +and disorderly, they never noticed that their +nominal leader had left them, taking one man +with him, and turned into the plantation by +the roadside.</p> + +<p>These two men advanced parallel with the +noisy crowd, but at a long distance from them. +And when the rifle fire was drawn, and the +attention of the defenders concentrated on +the road, they took that chance to rush across +the clearing, up the bank, and through the +scant hedge into the garden. They knew the +game was up. Their one aim was to sell their +lives as dearly as might be.</p> + +<p>When Pryce came to himself, he lay on his +bed. His coat, waistcoat and shirt had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> +cut off. The early sunlight filtered through +the green plaited blinds. There were two dark +shadows by the bed, and the shadows slowly +became the King and Lechworthy. Pryce, a +little surprised to find himself alive, investigated +with a slow and feeble movement of his left +hand the injuries he had received. When he +spoke, his voice sounded so funny, so unlike +his voice, that he smiled.</p> + +<p>“Who fixed the tourniquet?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“That was Hilda,” and then Lechworthy’s +voice seemed to become a dull rumble. Pryce +caught stray words: “Huddersfield ... ambulance +lectures ... Providence.”</p> + +<p>And then the King was holding a glass to his +lips. Pryce smelled the brandy, and put it +aside. He asked for water, and drank eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Hilda?” he said.</p> + +<p>“She came out when she heard the firing so +near to the house.”</p> + +<p>“All wrong,” said Pryce, feebly. “Plucky +though.” He paused awhile with his eyes +closed. Then he opened them, and his voice +seemed stronger. “There were only two, +you know—two beggars who got through?”</p> + +<p>He was assured that there had been no +others. All was well.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Better get some sleep soon,” said Pryce. +“The jab in the back is nothing much—must +have glanced off a rib. Breathing’s pretty +easy. Bad shot of his—but he was hurried.”</p> + +<p>He began to get drowsy, but roused himself.</p> + +<p>“Might bring those chests of mine in here—dressings, +clips, and so on. I’ll tell you what +to do. Then we can rest.”</p> + +<p>“Hilda’s getting them,” said Lechworthy.</p> + +<p>There were steps outside, and Lechworthy +went out of the room. Pryce could hear low +voices outside the door. Then Lechworthy +and Hilda came in together, Lechworthy carrying +a tray of things.</p> + +<p>Hilda looked towards the bed. “We’ve +changed places,” she said in a low voice. +“You’ll have to be my patient now.” Then +she went over to the window. “We shall +want more light, I think.”</p> + +<p>Pryce made a quick sign with his left hand. +The King nodded and turned to Lechworthy. +“Come with me,” he said. “We can do +nothing more here for the present.”</p> + +<p>A little surprised, Lechworthy looked at +Hilda. “Yes, that’s right,” she said. “If +I should want you, I’ll send; but I’ve got Tiva +and Ioia, you know, and servants besides.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I’m not going to bed,” said Lechworthy +when they were outside the room. “Who +knows? I might be wanted. And I shall +sleep in a chair all right—or anywhere. I’m +done.”</p> + +<p>“A chair will be good enough for me,” said +the King.</p> + +<p>They sat down in the verandah in the warm +sun. Lechworthy, perhaps for the first time +in his life, filled and lit a pipe in the morning.</p> + +<p>“You see it all, I suppose,” said the King.</p> + +<p>“See what?”</p> + +<p>“Those two—in there.”</p> + +<p>“Hilda and Pryce? You don’t mean—?”</p> + +<p>“I do. I thought you knew.”</p> + +<p>“I was a little puzzled. She was very quiet +and very—useful. But she looked—almost as +if she were going mad. Yes, I suppose it is so.”</p> + +<p>“If he recovers, they marry,” said the King. +“At least you will find it very difficult to +prevent it; and he will not go to England, +you know. But he has lost very much blood. +<span class="lock">Perhaps—”</span></p> + +<p>“Don’t say that,” said Lechworthy, sharply.</p> + +<p>For a moment or two he smoked and +meditated. Then he went on: “It will have +to be as Hilda says. I daren’t interfere in such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> +a case—wouldn’t anyhow. If any man has +the right to her, then he has. Not a great +marriage, of course—there will be people in +London who will think she has thrown herself +away. They’ll condole, I daresay, and make +themselves unpleasant in other ways too. +But there are too many people in England who +sacrifice too much to get the good opinion of +a few others who don’t really care for them. +Are you awake?”</p> + +<p>The King opened his eyes. “Awake? Oh, +yes. What was the name of that thing Miss +Auriol put on his arm?”</p> + +<p>“Tourniquet.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, tourniquet—new word to me. I +must remember.” And in two seconds he +was fast asleep.</p> + +<p>Lechworthy watched him with a smile, and +then closed his own eyes. His pipe slipped out +of his mouth and fell on the floor beside him. +He also slept.</p> + +<p>When he woke again, the King had gone and +Hilda stood on the verandah beside him.</p> + +<p>“Dear me!” said Lechworthy. “I’ve slept +a long time, I think. How is he?”</p> + +<p>“I thought he would have fainted again +when we were dressing the wounds. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> +afterwards he seemed more comfortable, and +now he’s fallen asleep. He made me promise +to go and rest as soon as he was asleep—one of +the boys is waiting in the room with him, to +fetch me if I’m wanted. He’s—he’s so +sensible, you know. He tells us exactly what +to do, just as if it was some other case he was +attending. And he will thank for everything—I +wish he wouldn’t. Only, he used to be so +active—so quick, and now he can’t move +much.” There came a catch in Hilda’s voice. +“And he doesn’t seem to know, not in the +least, that’s he’s done anything much for us, +or even to think about it. He’<span class="lock">s—”</span></p> + +<p>She dropped into a chair and covered her +face with her hands. For a few moments she +could not speak for sobbing. Lechworthy stood +over her, trying to soothe her.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know?” she wailed. “Don’t +you know?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, dear,” said Lechworthy, “I know. +And—that’ll be all right. With God’s help, +we’ll pull him through, for he’s too good to +lose, and—and that’ll be all right, dear. +You’ve been doing too much, and you mustn’t +break down now. Come and get some rest. +You promised him, you know.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hilda went to her room.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Some days later the King and Lechworthy +stood on the lawn of the Exiles’ Club. Much +money and much trouble had been expended +to make that lawn. And now it was scorched +with fire and soaked with blood, spoiled and +trampled. A few oranges on a tree that had +stood nearest to the fire were withered and +discoloured amid brown shrivelled leaves. A +long line of natives, laden with flat baskets, +passed and repassed, carrying the <i>debris</i> of the +burned house down to the shore. It was +forced labour, the punishment given them by +the King, and six men of the patrol, armed +with rifles, watched them at their work. +Other gangs had been sent out to work at road-making. +They hated the work, but they did +it submissively, lest worse should befall them. +There was not a corner of the island now in +which Hilda or Pryce, or Lechworthy might +not have walked with perfect security, unarmed, +by day or night. But Hilda would +not let Pryce do much walking yet—from his +room to the verandah, perhaps, but that was +all.</p> + +<p>The King pointed to a safe, looking incon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span>gruously +official among charred timbers, with +sunlight streaming on it and birds singing +around it.</p> + +<p>“That must be got out,” said the King. +“If it is claimed by those who have the right, +I hand it over.”</p> + +<p>“I think nothing will be claimed,” said +Lechworthy.</p> + +<p>“Sir John Sweetling chose well,” said the +King, with a sweep of his arm. “Look—the +finest site on the island. Here your native +church might have stood.”</p> + +<p>“It may stand there yet. I know, sir, how +much you feel my abandonment of your +scheme. It is no longer possible, but the +results which you wished to obtain by it are +still possible. Listen—in one night many +British subjects were murdered here. Remember +that, whenever you think that I could +still do as I had intended.”</p> + +<p>“They were criminals.”</p> + +<p>“Great Britain would not recognise the +right of your people to punish them. And +one of the men was a police-officer, sent here, +doing his duty.”</p> + +<p>“But my people—think how they were +provoked into rebellion. Have they not been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> +punished? They have given more than a life +for a life. And those that survive are still +being punished. I have done all that I could.”</p> + +<p>“That is true. The blame is not with the +responsible government of the island. Be +thankful for that; otherwise you would have +had a punitive expedition here. As it is, the +whole story must be told to Scotland Yard +and to those of my friends to whom I have +already written. I hope that I shall convince +and satisfy them, and my story will be supported +by the sworn statement which I shall +get from Pryce. I think you have nothing to +fear. But you must no longer expect protection +of the kind you wanted. At the best, +that would perhaps only have been possible +if there had been raised a strong public sentiment, +in France as well as in Great Britain, +on the depopulation question, and if the two +powers had been willing to co-operate. If this +story were told, public sentiment would be +dead against you. You may understand, +and I may understand, how all this happened, +but the public would never understand. +Your people would seem to them cruel and +bloodthirsty; your government of them would +seem unstable and impotent; they would not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> +wish to perpetuate either. There would be +no public sympathy. If I attempted to carry +out your scheme, the only result would be that +a few travellers would turn out of their course +from curiosity to visit your island, and that +precautions would be taken, of a kind which +you would resent, to see that they came to no +harm.”</p> + +<p>“My people are not cruel,” said the King. +“They are gentle, a little lazy, but good-humoured, +if the white man will leave them +alone. To-day I have more power than ever +before; I shall not be again disobeyed.”</p> + +<p>“I believe that to be true,” said Lechworthy. +“But we are a cautious people, and this outbreak +is dead against you. It spoils the +record. Facts matter less than the way +people will look at them. Once one has to +explain away, one exposes a weakness and +provokes a mistrust; the chance was never +too strong, and with that weakness the chance +vanishes altogether.”</p> + +<p>The King wrinkled his brows. “I do not +much understand these political affairs, but +I trust you. If you say that it is so, it is so.”</p> + +<p>“You had much better trust me,” said +Lechworthy, without temper and quite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> +placidly. “You see, Scotland Yard has lost +a man, and it knows the route to Faloo, and it +does not let things slide. It is only my story +of what happened which can save serious +trouble for this island.”</p> + +<p>“Still,” said the King, “when we discussed +this last night, I did think what might happen +if you said nothing of this—this mistake of my +people.”</p> + +<p>“That is already answered. If I do not +tell, it is likely to be worse for you. Not in +any spot in the globe can the treacherous +slaughter of many British subjects be over-looked.”</p> + +<p>“And yet you tell me that, though the +scheme goes, its results are still possible.”</p> + +<p>“I do. And it depends principally on you.”</p> + +<p>“On me? There is nothing I would not do.”</p> + +<p>“You have made money, and might make +much more. You have adopted the English +language—our names and dress. You have +studied much. You could let that go?”</p> + +<p>The King snapped his fingers. “Like that,” +he said.</p> + +<p>“Very well. Go back to your people. +Speak their language and wear native dress. +Be a King and not a trader. Break up the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> +stills and empty the vats into the sea. Sell +your trading-vessels, the one link that binds +Faloo to the world outside. You tell me that +the island produces all that a native needs; +limit yourself to that. It may be that trade +of its own accord will come to you; some soap +manufacturer may try to buy your plantation +or even the entire island. Refuse him. Do +not be tempted. If chance visitors should +come here, treat them with humanity but +without hospitality; make it unlikely that they +will return. The story of the Exiles’ Club will +be known, and the island will no longer be a +refuge for the uncaught criminal. Go back to +the simplicity of your fathers and trust to the +obscurity of your kingdom, and here the race +may recover.”</p> + +<p>“No communication with what you call +the world outside. No mail. No trade. You +would lose by that, Lechworthy.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, never mind about that. Did +you not tell me that you had used a bad +weapon once, and that it had hurt your hand, +but that you would burn it with a little powder +and it would be clean? It has been burned +with powder. It is clean now. The chance +for the native Faloo begins to-day.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span></p> + +<p>They talked long and earnestly on their +way back to the house together.</p> + +<p>Late that evening Lechworthy found himself +alone with his niece.</p> + +<p>“So it comes to an end,” he said. “To-morrow +the <i>Snowflake</i>. You’re sure he’s +strong enough for it?”</p> + +<p>Hilda laughed. “If I didn’t feel sure, I +wouldn’t let him go.”</p> + +<p>“And in a month—five weeks—some such +time—you will be married. And after that +when shall we meet again?”</p> + +<p>“You must come out here. We’ve been +talking about that.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it’s quite likely. And perhaps, not +now but, in a few years, he will come back to +England.”</p> + +<p>“He says he cannot. I—I don’t think I +should like to try to persuade him.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly not. Possibly the suggestion +will come from him. His views may be altered +by—er—circumstances.”</p> + +<p>“What circumstances?”</p> + +<p>But her uncle changed the subject.</p> + + +<p class="p4 center">COLSTONS LIMITED, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="break p4 transnote"> + +<h2 class="nobreak">Transcriber's Note</h2> + + +<p>The following apparent errors have been corrected:</p> + +<ul><li>p. 43 "other things" changed to "other things."</li> + +<li>p. 49 "said the King" changed to "said the King."</li> + +<li>p. 71 "not knew" changed to "not know"</li> + +<li>p. 102 "all nigh" changed to "all night"</li> + +<li>p. 137 "presently." changed to "presently.”"</li> + +<li>p. 261 "Mr friend" changed to "My friend"</li></ul> + + + + + +<p>The following possible error has been left as printed:</p> + +<ul><li>p. 177 "Goats?"</li></ul> + + + + +<p>The following are used inconsistently in the printed text:</p> + +<ul><li>necktie and neck-tie</li></ul> +</div> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44718 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/44718-h/images/cover.jpg b/44718-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..abd78c6 --- /dev/null +++ b/44718-h/images/cover.jpg |
