" cried the missionary, as Henry knocked at the door of his
study. "Ah, Henry, I'm glad to see you. You were in my thoughts this
moment. I have come to a difficulty in my drawings of the spire of our
new church, and I want your fertile imagination to devise some plan
whereby we may overcome it. But of that I shall speak presently. I see
from your looks that more important matters have brought you hither.
Nothing wrong at the cottage, I trust?"

"No, nothing--that is to say, not exactly wrong; but things, I fear, are
not altogether right in the settlement. I have had an unfortunate
rencounter this morning with one of the savages, which is likely to lead
to mischief; for blood was drawn, and I know the fellow to be
revengeful. In addition to this, it is suspected that Durward, the
pirate, is hovering among the islands, and meditates a descent on us.
How much truth there may be in the report I cannot pretend to guess; but
Gascoyne, the captain of the Foam, has been over at our cottage, and
says he has seen the pirate, and that there is no saying what he may
venture to attempt; for he is a bold fellow, and, as you know, cannot
have a good will to missionary settlements."

"I'm not so sure of that," said the pastor, in answer to the last
remark. "It is well known that wherever a Christian settlement is
founded in these islands, that place becomes a safe port for vessels of
all sorts, pirates as well as others, if they sail under false colors
and pretend to be honest traders,--while in all the other islands, it is
equally well known, the only safety one can count on, in landing, is
superior force. But I am grieved to hear of your affray with the native.
I hope that life will not be sacrificed."

"No fear of that; the rascal got only a flesh-wound."

Here the young man related his adventure of the morning, and finished by
asking what the pastor advised should be done in the way of precaution.

"It seems to me," said Mr. Mason, gravely, "that our chief difficulty
will be to save ourselves from our friends--"

"Would friends harm us, father?" asked a sweet, soft voice at the
pastor's elbow. Next moment Alice Mason was seated on her father's knee,
gazing up in his face with an expression of undisguised amazement.

Alice was a fair, delicate, gentle child. Twelve summers and winters had
passed over her little head without a cloud to obscure the sunshine of
her life save one; but that one was a terribly dark one, and its shad