iend--a friend who spoke their own harsh, guttural language as well
as one of themselves, a friend whose dead husband had been the friend
of old Gurden, whose memory was still cherished by every grown person
in Arrecifos as the white man, the white man who had lived so long
among them, and who had married one of their own people. And because
of this, and for her own sake, the people loved Alice Tracey, and not a
man of the now scanty population but would have given up his life for
her.

"Alisi," said Pani, the younger of the two girls, coming over to her
mistress, sitting down beside her, and placing her shapely little brown
hand on the white woman's knee as she gazed into her face, "is it well
with thy friend the white man, Parri (Barry)?"

"It is well, little one," answered Mrs. Tracey, putting her arm round
the girl's naked waist; "all is well with him, and here, in this
writing which he hath sent me, he sayeth that the time is drawing near
when the evil captain of the ship and those with him shall be crushed
and broken."

Pani's eyes glistened. "Oh, would that I could be there to see it all,
for there will be a great fight! He is a great man this Parri, and
hath kind eyes and a strong, handsome body. . . . Alisi?" and the girl
turned her pretty brown face on one side and looked inquiringly into
Mrs. Tracey's eyes.

"Pani?"

"Alisi, dost love Parri? Will he be thy man[1] when thou leavest us?"

"Nay, how can that be, little one? Did I not tell thee and Toea long
ago that he loveth a woman who dwells in my own land, and who awaiteth
his return from the sea?"

Toea threw away her cigarette and swiftly settled herself on the other
side of Mrs. Tracey, pushing aside Pani in mock jealousy, and, taking
her mistress's hand, hugged it to her full and rounded bosom.

"Alisi? tell me. Will Parri be thy man?"

"_Gao!_" and Mrs. Tracey flicked Toea's ear. "Be not so silly ye two.
Have I not said that Parri is bound to another woman? He careth nought
for me, and it is not the fashion in my country for strangers to wed."

"Hath he told thee that he cares not for thee?" enquired Pani.

"Foolish child. He is my friend--not a lover. And my husband is but
dead a little time."

"How can he be thy friend and not thy lover?" persisted Pani. "Thou
art a fair, good woman and he a strong, fine man. Surely he will be
thy man and think no more of this woman who liveth so far away. Hast
ever borne a child, Alisi?"