tive houses
clustered under the shade of the trees, a few yards up from the beach,
on which they noticed a ship's longboat was lying.

The moment Frewen's boat was seen, a strange clamour arose, and a number
of natives, armed with muskets and long knives, rushed out of their
houses, and took cover behind the rocks and trees, evidently with the
intention of resisting his landing, and Frewen and Cheyne heard loud
cries of "_Lemonte! Lemonte!_"

"Back water!" cried Cheyne in his mother tongue to the crew; then he
turned to Frewen: "There is something wrong on shore. 'Lemonte' is my
brother-in-law's name, and they are calling for him." Then he stood up
and shouted out--

"Friends, do you not know me? I am Randall. Where is my sister and her
husband?"

A loud cry of astonishment burst from the natives, many of whom,
throwing down their arms, sprang into the water, and clambering into the
boat greeted the young man most affectionately; and then one of them,
commanding silence, began talking rapidly to him.

"We must get ashore quickly," said Cheyne to Randall. "My brother-in-law
has a number of dead and dying people in his house. There has been a
mutiny on board that ship--but come on, he'll tell us all about it."

In another minute the boat was on the beach, and as Frewen and Cheyne
jumped ont they were met by a handsome, dark-faced man about forty years
of age, who grasped Cheyne's hands warmly.

"I never expected to see you, Randall," he said quietly, "but I thank
God that you _have_ come, and at such a time, too. Where is your ship?"

"Three hundred miles away. But we will tell you our story another time.
How is Marie?"

"Well. She already hears the people shouting your name. Come to the
house." Then he turned to Frewen and held out his hand. "My name is
Raymond, and you are welcome to Samatau."

"And mine is Frewen. I hope you will accept any assistance I can give."

"Gladly. But I will tell you the whole story presently. I have two men
dying in my house, three others wounded, and two dead."

He led the way along a shady, winding path to the house, on the wide
verandah of which were seated a number of natives of both sexes, who
made way for them to pass with low murmurs of "_Talofa, aliia_," {*} to
the two strangers. Then in another moment Marie Raymond stepped softly
out from the sitting-room, and threw her arms round her brother's neck.

* "Greeting, gentlemen."

"Thank God you are here, Randall,"