hore here in
that old house?"

"None whatever; there are but two hundred natives here, and you need
have no fear of them--all the rest were carried away by an Hawaiian
labour ship two months ago," she replied faintly.

"Then we shall try and make you comfortable for to-night. We have
plenty of sleeping mats in the boat. Now I must lift you out again."

By this time fires had been lit by the men, and supper was being
prepared by Joe; the two native women and Velo had made a comfortable
bed for the injured woman, a quantity of young coconuts husked by
another sailor lay on the ground, and when Barry laid his charge down
upon her bed of mats the scene was quite cheerful as the blazing fires
sent out streams of light across the waters of the sleeping lagoon.

"Now you must try and sit up and eat something and drink some coffee,"
said Barry as he placed some biscuit and meat and a tin mug of coffee
beside the woman. "There, lean your back against the water-breaker.
Are you in much pain now?"

"Not so much, thank you," and as she tried to smile Barry could not but
observe that she was a remarkably handsome woman, with clearly cut,
refined features. Her speech, too, showed that she was a person of
education.

Barry seated himself near her, and began to eat; the two wild-looking
native women sat near by munching the biscuits given them by Joe; and
Joe himself, with the rest of the crew, were grouped together at the
other end of the hut.

"Will you have some more coffee?" said Barry presently.

"No, thank you, but I feel much better now. You have been very good to
me."

Seeing that she was much recovered, although her face was still drawn
and pale, Barry put his first question to her.

"You are in great distress, and are not yet strong enough to talk very
much; but will you tell me how you came to be living here, and how I
can help you?"

She clasped her hands together tightly, and tried to speak calmly. "My
story is a very strange one indeed. I was landed here by an American
whaleship five months ago. She brought me from Ocean Island. I came
here in the hope that my husband--if he is alive--would come here. But
I fear he is dead--murdered;" and the tears began to steal down her
cheeks.

"Murdered! Is he a trader in this group?"

"No; he was captain and owner of a trading vessel, a small brig. I was
with him. One night, when I was on deck, I overheard two of the
officers and a man who was a passeng