he island upon which we had found
him. If spoken to when this fit was upon him, he would not answer, nor
did he, at such times, appear to realize where he was. I could see that
his mind was deranged, and I dreaded some violent outbreak, such as
that which had come over him when, by his treachery, I was cast into
the sea. But Melannie showed no fear of him; in, her delight at being
with me upon the ocean away from the savages, among whom she had been
reared, she seemed to have forgotten his presence.

For the next week after leaving what had been once the Island of Gems,
we experienced a spell of fine weather, with bright sun and cool
breeze. The elements seemed kind to the exiled queen without a throne,
who had trusted herself to the wind and the sea, and but for the
anxiety which I felt for the future, the voyage would have been a
pleasant one.

In order to protect Melannie from the heat of midday, and to ensure her
some measure of privacy, I constructed a temporary cabin for her, with
some spare canvas which I found on board the boat, but at night she
preferred to sleep in the open so that she might watch the stars, which
shone with extraordinary brilliancy. It was then that I lowered the
sails when our boat drifted upon the moonlit sea. Melannie would at
such times creep into my arms, and with her head pillowed upon, my
breast would listen to the wonders I had to tell of the world of white
people to which I hoped I was taking her.

"Something warns me I shall never see that country, Peter," she said to
me one night with a sigh, "but I like to hear you speak of it. It must
be a happy land where there are no black men to frighten a poor girl
and make her weep. But I shall not see it. The white spirits would not
welcome me to their country if they knew of the sights I had seen and
the pain I had caused to be inflicted on those whom Ackbau hated."

"It was not your will, but Ackbau's, Melannie, which caused such
suffering," I answered. "None could blame you for being the mouthpiece
of his villainy."

But Melannie shook her head.

"The white man's country is not for me, Peter," she declared
sorrowfully. "I am too steeped in blood to take the white girls' hands
in friendship."

Then she clung to me weeping, with her head upon my breast, and so she
would sob herself to sleep like a child disappointed in play.

But, knowing her history, I could not find it in my heart to blame her
for what had been done at the dic