they trusted to pilot them safely through
the dangerous surf.

On the beach they were welcomed by more of the inhabitants, among the
rest by a young girl, the daughter of Adams, who had evidently come to
meet the English strangers in order that she might learn if her father
was in any danger from them, for John Adams was the last remaining
mutineer. Her confidence was restored by the looks and words of the two
captains, as she led them, with light step, up the steep pathway by
which alone the interior of the island could be reached.

The captains were almost exhausted long before the top was reached, but
their guides seemed to climb as easily as the goats of their own island,
and even the girls were so sure-footed that they were able to help the
strangers up the difficult path. Arriving at the top, a new and
beautiful sight delighted their eyes--a lovely valley, rich in
fruit-bearing trees, and in cultivated fields, in the midst of which was
built an almost English-looking village, with its church and school
house, its cottages and gardens, and all that could speak of a simple,
religious home life. Here they were welcomed by the remaining
inhabitants, with Adams at their head, to whom all looked up as to their
father. Beside him stood his blind Tahitian wife, and around him were
groups of young men and girls with bright, intelligent faces, and smiles
which told of the happiness and innocence of their hearts.

[Illustration: John Adams and his family. (Page 115.)]

Whatever the daughter of Adams may have feared in her love for her
father, he himself did not appear afraid to receive these English
visitors to his island refuge. For he felt that as, in the sight of God,
his sin had for Christ's sake been pardoned, so in the eyes of men these
long years of penitence, and of honest endeavor after a better life,
would surely have won pardon for the sins of his youth. It was with
feelings too deep for words that he looked once more on the faces of his
countrymen and heard the English speech from other lips than those to
whom he had taught it. All the memories of early days awoke in him, and
he longed to return once more and see his native land before he died.
But as soon as those round him understood his wish, they seized his
hands, they clung around him, praying him with tears not to desert them,
not to leave his children; and Adams, much moved, promised to remain.
And indeed he would have been sorely missed had he gone, f