ar. Paaaeua, in his difficult posture of appointed chief,
drew strength and dignity from their alliance, and only Moipu and his
followers were malcontent. For some reason, nobody (except myself)
appears to dislike Moipu. Captain Hart, who has been robbed and
threatened by him; Father Orens, whom he has fired at, and repeatedly
driven to the woods; my own family, and even the French officials--all
seemed smitten with an irrepressible affection for the man. His fall had
been made soft; his son, upon his death, was to succeed Paaaeua in the
chieftaincy; and he lived, at the time of our visit, in the shoreward
part of the village in a good house, and with a strong following of
young men, his late braves and pot-hunters. In this society, the coming
of the _Casco_, the adoption, the return feast on board, and the
presents exchanged between the whites and their new parents, were
doubtless eagerly and bitterly canvassed. It was felt that a few years
ago the honours would have gone elsewhere. In this unwonted business, in
this reception of some hitherto undreamed-of and outlandish
potentate--some Prester John or old Assaracus--a few years back it would
have been the part of Moipu to play the hero and the host, and his young
men would have accompanied and adorned the various celebrations as the
acknowledged leaders of society. And now, by a malign vicissitude of
fortune, Moipu must sit in his house quite unobserved; and his young men
could but look in at the door while their rivals feasted. Perhaps M.
Grevy felt a touch of bitterness towards his successor when he beheld
him figure on the broad stage of the centenary of eighty-nine; the visit
of the _Casco_ which Moipu had missed by so few years was a more unusual
occasion in Atuona than a centenary in France; and the dethroned chief
determined to reassert himself in the public eye.

Mr. Osbourne had gone into Atuona photographing; the population of the
village had gathered together for the occasion on the place before the
church, and Paaaeua, highly delighted with this new appearance of his
family, played the master of ceremonies. The church had been taken, with
its jolly architect before the door; the nuns with their pupils; sundry
damsels in the ancient and singularly unbecoming robes of tapa; and
Father Orens in the midst of a group of his parishioners. I know not
what else was in hand, when the photographer became aware of a sensation
in the crowd, and, looking around, beheld