he knelt beside the
wounded man.

"I guess that lights are just what I want, young feller," said Warner
faintly, with a grim smile. "That darned kanaka boy just drove his
hatchet inter my back, and I reckon I haven't much lights or liver
left."

Barry tried to examine the man's wound, but the American stayed him.

"Let me be, mister. I meant to do for you, and would have done it
later on. But I'm wiped out and don't want to make a song. Is Jim
dead?"

"No," replied Barry, "he is not dead."

"Mister, you are a darned good sort. Me and Jim meant to do for you."

"Don't talk about that, Warner. I have no enmity against you. And I
don't think you have long to live."

"That is so, mister. I guess I'm about done. I'd like to see Togaro
and the rest of my niggers before I slip, if you have no objections."

Barry motioned to the crew to take off the hatches and let the Solomon
Islanders come on deck to see their dying master. Then with a few
kindly words he left him to return to the cabin, and watched Rawlings
and the Greek being carried on deck in irons.

Mrs. Tracey, who had followed, overtook him at the companion way and
touched his arm.

"Thank God, it is all over, Mr. Barry." Then her tears began to fall.

Barry raised her hand and touched it with his lips. "All over, thank
God. Now will you come and speak to Barradas?"

She followed him below.

Barradas was sitting at the table with his hands over his eyes.

Mrs. Tracey placed her hand upon his shoulder, and said softly--

"As Christ forgives us all, so may He forgive you, Manuel Barradas; and
so may He forgive those who . . ."

Barry stole swiftly up on deck and left them praying together.

CHAPTER XIV.

BARRY HOISTS THE FLAG OF ENGLAND.

Warner, or, to give him his right name, Chase, did not live long after
Barry returned on deck. His wild followers were clustered round him,
some stroking his hands and feet, others gazing into his face with
silent concern. Togaro, the leader, himself had his dying master's
back supported on his outspread hands, trying to staunch the flow of
blood.

"Mister," said Chase faintly as the chief officer again bent over him,
"I'm darned sorry."

Barry could not help taking his hand and giving it a kindly pressure;
in two or three minutes the man had ceased to breathe, and his body was
carried below into the main-hold to await burial on shore on the
following morning; then Joe returned and report