tell you."

Strickland stepped to the door and looked out. There must
have been something terrible in his face, for suddenly they
all burst out into loud cries and lamentation. They lifted up
their voices and they wept. Strickland did not speak.
After looking at them for a moment, he came back into the room.

"How long do you think I can last?"

"Who knows? Sometimes the disease continues for twenty years.
It is a mercy when it runs its course quickly."

Strickland went to his easel and looked reflectively at the
picture that stood on it.

"You have had a long journey. It is fitting that the bearer
of important tidings should be rewarded. Take this picture.
It means nothing to you now, but it may be that one day you
will be glad to have it."

Dr. Coutras protested that he needed no payment for his
journey; he had already given back to Ata the hundred-franc
note, but Strickland insisted that he should take the picture.
Then together they went out on the verandah. The natives were
sobbing violently. "Be quiet, woman. Dry thy tears," said
Strickland, addressing Ata. "There is no great harm.
I shall leave thee very soon."

"They are not going to take thee away?" she cried.

At that time there was no rigid sequestration on the islands,
and lepers, if they chose, were allowed to go free.

"I shall go up into the mountain," said Strickland.

Then Ata stood up and faced him.

"Let the others go if they choose, but I will not leave thee.
Thou art my man and I am thy woman. If thou leavest me I
shall hang myself on the tree that is behind the house.
I swear it by God."

There was something immensely forcible in the way she spoke.
She was no longer the meek, soft native girl, but a determined
woman. She was extraordinarily transformed.

"Why shouldst thou stay with me? Thou canst go back to
Papeete, and thou wilt soon find another white man. The old
woman can take care of thy children, and Tiare will be glad to
have thee back."

"Thou art my man and I am thy woman. Whither thou goest I
will go, too."

For a moment Strickland's fortitude was shaken, and a tear
filled each of his eyes and trickled slowly down his cheeks.
Then he gave the sardonic smile which was usual with him.

"Women are strange little beasts," he said to Dr. Coutras.
"You can treat them like dogs, you can beat them till your arm
aches, and still they love you." He shrugged his shoulders.
"Of course, it is one of the most ab