u Mrs. Hollister's strange story by-and-by, old man.
Briefly it is this--she, her husband, and their little girl have been
living here for over two years. Their vessel was castaway here. Now, get
into the boat, please, Mrs. Hollister."

The woman, who was weeping silently with excitement, smiled through her
tears, stepped into the boat, and in a few minutes we were alongside.

"Make all the haste you can," Manson said to me, "as Mrs. Hollister is
returning on shore as soon as you can give her some clothing and boots
or shoes. Then they are all coming on board to supper at eight o'clock."

The lady came with me to my trade-room, and we soon went to work
together, I forbearing to ask her any questions whatever, though I was
as full of curiosity as a woman. Like that of all trading vessels
whose "run" embraced the islands of Polynesia as well as Melanesia and
Micronesia, the trade-room of the _Metaris_ was a general store.
The shelves and cases were filled with all sorts of articles--tinned
provisions, wines and spirits, firearms and ammunition, hardware and
drapers' soft goods, "yellow-back" novels, ready-made clothing for men,
women and children, musical instruments and grindstones--in fact just
such a stock as one would find in a well-stocked general store in an
Australian country town.

In half an hour Mrs. Hollister had found all that she wanted, and
packing the articles in a "trade" chest, I had it passed on deck and
lowered into the boat. Then the lady, now smiling radiantly, shook hands
with every one, including the steward, and descended to the boat which
quickly cast off and made for the shore in charge of the boatswain.

Then I felt that I deserved a drink, and went below again where Manson
and Loring were awaiting me. They had anticipated my wishes, for the
steward had just placed the necessary liquids on the cabin table.

"Now, boys," said the skipper, as he opened some soda water, "after we
have had a first drink I'll spin my yarn--and a sad enough one it is,
too. By-the-way, steward, did you put that bottle of brandy and some
soda water in the boat?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's all right. Just fancy, you fellows--that poor chap on shore has
not had a glass of grog for more than two years. That is, I suppose so.
Anyway I am sending him some. And, I say, steward; I want you to spread
yourself this evening and give us _the_ very best supper you ever gave
us. There are three white persons coming at eight o'clo