ands, of the sailors who, settling in them, had married the daughters
of great chieftains, and of the beach-combers who had led their varied
lives on those silvery shores. Bateman, mortified and exasperated, at
first listened sullenly, but presently some magic in the words possessed
him and he sat entranced. The mirage of romance obscured the light of
common day. Had he forgotten that Arnold Jackson had a tongue of silver,
a tongue by which he had charmed vast sums out of the credulous public,
a tongue which very nearly enabled him to escape the penalty of his
crimes? No one had a sweeter eloquence, and no one had a more acute
sense of climax. Suddenly he rose.

"Well, you two boys haven't seen one another for a long time. I shall
leave you to have a yarn. Teddie will show you your quarters when you
want to go to bed."

"Oh, but I wasn't thinking of spending the night, Mr Jackson," said
Bateman.

"You'll find it more comfortable. We'll see that you're called in good
time."

Then with a courteous shake of the hand, stately as though he were a
bishop in canonicals, Arnold Jackson took leave of his guest.

"Of course I'll drive you back to Papeete if you like," said Edward,
"but I advise you to stay. It's bully driving in the early morning."

For a few minutes neither of them spoke. Bateman wondered how he should
begin on the conversation which all the events of the day made him
think more urgent.

"When are you coming back to Chicago?" he asked, suddenly.

For a moment Edward did not answer. Then he turned rather lazily to look
at his friend and smiled.

"I don't know. Perhaps never."

"What in heaven's name do you mean?" cried Bateman.

"I'm very happy here. Wouldn't it be folly to make a change?"

"Man alive, you can't live here all your life. This is no life for a
man. It's a living death. Oh, Edward, come away at once, before it's too
late. I've felt that something was wrong. You're infatuated with the
place, you've succumbed to evil influences, but it only requires a
wrench, and when you're free from these surroundings you'll thank all
the gods there be. You'll be like a dope-fiend when he's broken from his
drug. You'll see then that for two years you've been breathing poisoned
air. You can't imagine what a relief it will be when you fill your lungs
once more with the fresh, pure air of your native country."

He spoke quickly, the words tumbling over one another in his excitement,
and there was in his