moment with Ula, the fourteenth wife of the
great Tu-Kila-Kila.

"I never see you now, Toko," the beautiful Polynesian said, leaning
almost across the white line of coral-sand which she dared not
transgress. "Times are dull at the temple since you came to be Shadow to
the white-faced stranger."

"It was for that that Tu-Kila-Kila sent me here," the Shadow answered,
with profound conviction. "He is jealous, the great god. He is bad. He is
cruel. He wanted to get rid of me. So he sent me away to the King of the
Rain that I might not see you."

Ula pouted, and held up her wounded finger before his eyes
coquettishly. "See what he did to me," she said, with a mute appeal
for sympathy--though in that particular matter the truth was not in
her. "Your god was angry with me to-day because I hurt his hand, and
he clutched me by the throat, and almost choked me. He has a bad heart.
See how he bit me and drew blood. Some of these days, I believe, he will
kill me and eat me."

The Shadow glanced around him suspiciously with an uneasy air. Then he
whispered low, in a voice half grudge, half terror, "If he does, he is a
great god--he can search all the world--I fear him much, but Toko's heart
is warm. Let Tu-Kila-Kila look out for vengeance."

The woman glanced across at him open-eyed, with her enticing look. "If
the King of the Rain, who is Korong, knew all the secret," she murmured,
slowly, "he would soon be Tu-Kila-Kila himself; and you and I could then
meet together freely."

The Shadow started. It was a terrible suggestion. "You mean to say--" he
cried; then fear overcame him, and, crouching down where he sat, he gazed
around him, terrified. Who could say that the wind would not report his
words to Tu-Kila-Kila?

Ula laughed at his fears. "Pooh," she answered, smiling. "You are a man;
and yet you are afraid of a little taboo. I am a woman; and yet if I knew
the secret as you do, I would break taboo as easily as I would break an
egg-shell. I would tell the white-faced stranger all--if only it would
bring you and me together forever."

"It is a great risk, a very great risk," the Shadow answered, trembling.
"Tu-Kila-Kila is a mighty god. He may be listening this moment, and may
pinch us to death by his spirits for our words, or burn us to ashes with
a flash of his anger."

The woman smiled an incredulous smile. "If you had lived as near
Tu-Kila-Kila as I have," she answered, boldly, "you would think as
little, perhaps,