?"

"An' why not? 'Tis a royal souse is Tui Tulifau. Sure it keeps my wits
workin' overtime to supply him, he's that amazin' liberal with it. The
whole gang of hanger-on chiefs is perpetually loaded to the guards. It's
disgraceful. Are you goin' to pay them fines, Mr. Grief, or is it to
harsher measures I'll be forced?"

Grief turned impatiently on his heel.

"Cornelius, you're drunk. Think it over and come to your senses. The
old rollicking South Sea days are gone. You can't play tricks like that
now."

"If you think you're goin' on board, Mr. Grief, I'll save you the
trouble. I know your kind, I foresaw your stiff-necked stubbornness. An'
it's forestalled you are. 'Tis on the beach you'll find your crew. The
vessel's seized."

Grief turned back on him in the half-belief still that he was joking.
Fulualea again retreated in alarm. The form of a large man loomed beside
him in the darkness.

"Is it you, Uiliami?" Fulualea crooned. "Here is another sea pirate.
Stand by me with the strength of thy arm, O Herculean brother."

"Greeting, Uiliami," Grief said. "Since when has Fitu-Iva come to be
run by a Levuka beachcomber? He says my schooner has been seized. Is it
true?"

"It is true," Uiliami boomed from his deep chest. "Have you any more
silk shirts like Willie Smee's? Tui Tulifau would like such a shirt. He
has heard of it."

"'Tis all the same," Fulualea interrupted. "Shirts or schooners, the
king shall have them."

"Rather high-handed, Cornelius," Grief murmured. "It's rank piracy. You
seized my vessel without giving me a chance."

"A chance is it? As we stood here, not five minutes gone, didn't you
refuse to pay your fines?"

"But she was already seized."

"Sure, an' why not? Didn't I know you'd refuse? 'Tis all fair, an' no
injustice done--Justice, the bright, particular star at whose shining
altar Cornelius Deasy--or Fulualea, 'tis the same thing--ever worships.
Get thee gone, Mr. Trader, or I'll set the palace guards on you.
Uiliami, 'tis a desperate character, this trader man. Call the guards."

Uiliami blew the whistle suspended on his broad bare chest by a cord
of cocoanut sennit. Grief reached out an angry hand for Cornelius, who
titubated into safety behind Uiliami's massive bulk. A dozen strapping
Polynesians, not one under six feet, ran down the palace walk and ranged
behind their commander.

"Get thee gone, Mr. Trader," Cornelius ordered. "The interview is
terminated. We'll try your sev