to the Tahitian firm for whom he
traded was not due for many months. Could the stranger be that wandering
Ishmael of the sea--Peese? Only he--or his equally daring and dreaded
colleague, Bully Hayes--would dare to sail a vessel of any size in
among the coral "mushrooms" that studded the current-swept waters of the
dangerous passage.

What did he want? And honest Frank Lupton, a quiet and industrious
trader, thought of his store of pearl-shell and felt still more
doubtful. And he knew Peese so well, the dapper, handsome little
Englishman with the pleasant voice that had in it always a ripple of
laughter--the voice and laugh that concealed his tigerish heart and
savage vindictiveness. Lupton had children too--sons and daughters--and
Peese, who looked upon women as mere articles of merchandise, would have
thought no more of carrying off the trader's two pretty daughters than
he would of "taking" a cask of oil or a basket of pearl-shell.

*****

His anxious face, paling beneath the tropic bronze of twenty years'
ocean wanderings, betrayed his feelings to the two natives who were
now pulling the boat with all their strength to gain the village, and
one--Maora, his wife's brother, a big, light-skinned man, with that
keen, hawk-like visage peculiar to the people of the eastern islands of
Polynesia, said--

"'Tis an evil day, Farani! No ship but that of the Little Man with the
Beard hath ever passed into the lagoon since the great English fighting
ship came inside" (he spoke of 1863), "for the reef hath grown and
spread out and nearly closed it. Only the Little Bearded Devil would
dare it, for he hath been here twice with the Man of the Strong Hand"
(Hayes). "And, Farani, listen! 'The hand to the club!'"

They ceased pulling. From the village came the sound of an almost
forgotten cry--a signal of danger to the dwellers under the palms--"The
hand to the club!"--meaning for the men to arm.

*****

Lupton hesitated. The natives would, he knew, stand to him to a man if
violence to or robbery of him were attempted. But to gain the village he
must needs pass close the vessel, and to pass on and not board her would
savour of cowardice--and Lupton was an Englishman, and his twenty years'
wanderings among the dangerous people of some of the islands of the
Paumotu Group had steeled his nerves to meet any danger or emergency.
So, without altering the course of the boat, he ran alongside of the
vessel--which was a brigantine--jus