along the silent grassy road, splashing now and
then through fords, where the sea had forced its way in, past a couple
of native villages, the bell-shaped huts spaced out roomily and the
white chapel in the middle, and at the third village they got out of the
trap, tied up the horse, and walked down to the pool. They were
accompanied by four or five girls and a dozen children. Soon they were
all splashing about, shouting and laughing, while Walker, in a
_lava-lava_, swam to and fro like an unwieldy porpoise. He made lewd
jokes with the girls, and they amused themselves by diving under him and
wriggling away when he tried to catch them. When he was tired he lay
down on a rock, while the girls and children surrounded him; it was a
happy family; and the old man, huge, with his crescent of white hair and
his shining bald crown, looked like some old sea god. Once Mackintosh
caught a queer soft look in his eyes.

"They're dear children," he said. "They look upon me as their father."

And then without a pause he turned to one of the girls and made an
obscene remark which sent them all into fits of laughter. Mackintosh
started to dress. With his thin legs and thin arms he made a grotesque
figure, a sinister Don Quixote, and Walker began to make coarse jokes
about him. They were acknowledged with little smothered laughs.
Mackintosh struggled with his shirt. He knew he looked absurd, but he
hated being laughed at. He stood silent and glowering.

"If you want to get back in time for dinner you ought to come soon."

"You're not a bad fellow, Mac. Only you're a fool. When you're doing one
thing you always want to do another. That's not the way to live."

But all the same he raised himself slowly to his feet and began to put
on his clothes. They sauntered back to the village, drank a bowl of
_kava_ with the chief, and then, after a joyful farewell from all the
lazy villagers, drove home.

After dinner, according to his habit, Walker, lighting his cigar,
prepared to go for a stroll. Mackintosh was suddenly seized with fear.

"Don't you think it's rather unwise to go out at night by yourself just
now?"

Walker stared at him with his round blue eyes.

"What the devil do you mean?"

"Remember the knife the other night. You've got those fellows' backs
up."

"Pooh! They wouldn't dare."

"Someone dared before."

"That was only a bluff. They wouldn't hurt me. They look upon me as a
father. They know that whatever I do is for