Edward Barry

An old, bald-headed warrior, grasping his spear in his right hand, thrust its point deeply into the ground, stood up and spoke.

"Alisi, this is a great day. The ship which was stolen from thy dear husband is thine again, and the white men who killed him and tried to kill thee are, as thou saidst they would be, bound in links of iron. That is well. But there are some things of which thou hast not spoken and of which we would know, out of our love."

"Tell me, old Roku."

"It is pleasing to us that this man Velo of Samoa is taking Paní to wife. He is a good man and true to thee and the white man Parri. But we of Tebuan would see thy own wedding feast ere the ship saileth."

A vivid scarlet dyed Mrs. Tracey's cheeks as a roar of applause burst from the assembled people. She put her hand to her throat and tried to speak.

"What is it, Mrs. Tracey?" inquired Barry.

"Nothing of any importance, Mr. Barry," she said hurriedly, but trying to force a smile and speak with unconcern. "I—I have been telling them that you will marry Paní and Velo to-day, and that all going well, Toea and I will return to Arrecifos certainly within two years."

Old Roku, the father of Toea, stood quietly holding the staff of his spear and awaiting her reply.

"Roku," she said at last, trembling as she spoke, "say not such things to me. This man Parri is my good friend, but hath no desire to wed me, nor do I desire to wed him. And even if we were both of a free mind such a thing could not be, for he is betrothed to another woman."

Roku slapped his naked chest in derision. "Alisi! what is that to thee? Thou art a great woman and can command. What is any other woman to thy will but as a dried leaf which falls and is swept away by the wind? This man Parri and thou must wed, else shall we of Ujilong be sore in heart. No child hath drawn at thy breasts–"

Mrs. Tracey held up her hand, her voice choking with shame in fear that Barry might understand what was being said. "Say no more, Roku. I tell ye all it cannot be. See, here in these boxes are the rifles and the tobacco for the men and the red and blue cloth and the many-coloured beads for the women and children, as was promised."

The old man thanked her for the gifts, but sat down as if disappointed at the rest of her remarks. Then a second man arose and made a demand that filled Mrs. Tracey with fear. Where were the black men whose master had slain three of the Tebuan people?

"What would ye have with them?" she asked quickly.

"Give us three of them for the three of our people whom they slew," was the instant reply.

"That I cannot do, neither would Parri here consent even if I were willing."

An ominous murmur of displeased astonishment broke from the natives. Surely, they asked, they had a right to these three men. Why should three of their own people lie dead with gaping wounds and the man-eaters escape without punishment? Would that be fair and just?

"What answer can I give them?" she asked of Barry after translating their demand. "We cannot give up three of the Solomon Islanders to be murdered, but we must do something to please them."

They conversed on the matter for a few minutes, and then Mrs. Tracey spoke again.

"These are Parri's words. These black men will be taken away in a ship, for Parri hath pledged himself to them. And not they, but their master who is dead, was it who killed the three men of Tebuan. But yet so that we may part with naught of soreness between us will I make provision for the wives and blood relatives of the three men who died in helping me to gain back my ship. This is my gift: three thousand sticks of tobacco, three large bags of biscuit, nine matted bags of rice, three muskets, a keg of powder, and a thousand round bullets—all these to be divided."

The munificence of the gift was too much for the native mind to resist, and to Mrs. Tracey's pleasure, old Roku, speaking for the people generally, said they were well pleased and would now "have no anger in their hearts against the black, man-eating strangers."

She decided to return to the ship with about ten or a dozen natives and see her present handed over to them by Barradas, leaving Barry to follow later on; for he had yet another task before him—the burial of Chase.

A little before noon a boat left the brig, carrying the man's body, which was in a hastily made coffin. Under Barry's direction a grave had already been dug in the little cemetery on the end of the islet, and here he was buried, the officer reading the service with Joe and two other of the white seamen standing beside him.

Then he returned on board again.

CHAPTER XV.

FAREWELL TO ARRECIFOS

Barradas and Mrs. Tracey met him as soon as he stepped on the deck, which was covered with loose sticks of tobacco, ship biscuit, bags of rice, etc.—the present intended for the relatives of the dead men—which were being passed over the side into the other boat, where the eager, excited Tebuan people received every article with shouts of approval.

"Why, you have got along splendidly," he said, with a smile to Mrs. Tracey, whose dainty little hands were stained and discoloured with counting out tobacco, and whose perfect oval face was flushed with her exertions, as, sitting down on deck and leaning against Paní, she held her hands up before him with a laugh.

"Indeed we have! Mr. Barradas opened the tierce of tobacco, and Paní and Toea and I dug out the nasty sticky layers with sheath knives. I think we counted out three thousand sticks; but we got a little bit confused, so perhaps there are rather more."

A smile—the first that they had ever seen on his face—lit up the swarthy features of the Spanish mate. "I think there's nearer four thousand than three, madam."

"Oh well, never mind, Mr. Barradas. We mustn't be too particular," she said merrily, "but I should like some hot water to clean my hands. Please tell the steward. When is the wedding to be, Mr. Barry? The bride that is to be is very nervous, and, in fact, says she'd rather Velo married her in native fashion. But I'm not going to let her disappoint me. Big Joe is to be her best man, and the bridegroom is to be 'supported' by Mosé the steward."

"I'll be ready in half an hour, Mrs. Tracey," replied Barry; "the Church Service is in my pocket, as it is."

"Ah!" and her eyes filled. "How wrong and childish of me to forget! You must forgive me; … but I am not myself. You have just come from the presence of death, and my first words to you are a jest. Do not be angry with me. I am not so heartless …"

A quick glance at her face showed Barry that she was on the verge of hysteria. "Come, Mrs. Tracey, come below."

"Yes, take me below—quickly, please," and she rose tremblingly to her feet. "I am very silly, am I not? I–"

The mate swept her up in his arms as if she were a baby and carried her below.

"Poor little woman," he said pityingly to himself, as he laid her down in her own berth; and then he added aloud, "You are overwrought and done up, Mrs. Tracey. Rest awhile, and you will soon feel better."

"Yes," she answered, trying hard to control herself from giving way altogether; "I shall be all right presently."

Motioning to the two native girls to attend her, he closed the cabin door and went on deck and joined Barradas.

"Manuel," he said, addressing his subordinate for the first time by his Christian name, whereat the Spaniard's cheeks flushed with pleasure, "we shall have to hustle along and get things done if we are to get to sea to-morrow. Poor Mrs. Tracey is not quite herself, as you can see, and until she is a bit recovered I don't want to worry her about some matters which must be attended to before we heave up. But meanwhile we can get to work at other things. Rawlings and the Greek will have to be confined in the sail-locker—there is nowhere else where we can put them with any degree of comfort. So turn to some of the hands and get it made as clean as possible. I am in hopes that we may meet a man-of-war somewhere in the Solomons; if so I can get rid of them, for a time at least."

Barradas made a gesture of assent, and at once set to work to fit up the sail-locker for the reception of the two prisoners. In half an hour his task was completed, and then Mrs. Tracey came on deck, dressed in a flowing gown of white muslin, and accompanied by Toea and Paní.

"Here we are, Mr. Barradas," she said with a smile; "where is big Joe? I must tell him what to do. And where is Mosé; and where is the bridegroom himself?—ah! there he is, and quite nicely dressed, too. Tell Mr. Barry we are quite ready, please.—Come here, Velo, and promise me you will be good to my little Paní."

"I promise," said Velo gravely, taking the white woman's hand and pressing it to his forehead.

Then Barry, calling all hands aft, made Paní and Velo stand side by side on the after-deck as he read the marriage service, and the simple ceremony was soon over.

"Ring the bell like blazes!" shouted Barradas as soon as the last words of the service were uttered, and big Joe and a native sailor raced together to ring the ship's for'ard bell; then the two six-pounders on the main-deck were fired by Mosé, and the marriage ceremonies of Velo and his pretty Paní were over.

"Now then, get ashore with your wife, Velo," said Barry laughingly to the faithful Samoan; "perhaps Mrs. Tracey may come and see you and Paní this evening."

"Of course I shall, Velo," said Mrs. Tracey, whose dark eyes were dancing with pleasure; "Toea and I mean to sleep ashore to-night with the Tebuan people, and come on board early in the morning. And I have some presents for little Paní."

An hour before sunset the two boats and a fleet of canoes returned from Tebuan with the pearl shell collected by Mrs. Tracey. It was hoisted aboard in baskets of coconut leaf and stowed in the main hold, and then the day's work, as far as the crew were concerned, was over.

Before supper, Barradas, Mrs. Tracey, and Barry sat together in the main cabin and examined the pearls—those which she had herself brought on board and those taken from Rawlings' cabin. Then it was that Barry showed Mrs. Tracey the seven largest pearls yet obtained.

"I kept these, Mrs. Tracey, to give to you personally," he said simply; "I did not want Rawlings or the Greek to touch them. I wanted to give them to you unsullied by the touch of their hands."

"How kind you are!" she murmured softly as, bending her head, she moved the beautiful gems to and fro under her hands upon the scarlet tablecloth, then raising her dark hazel eyes to Barry she dropped them suddenly with a blush, for both men were regarding her with undisguised admiration.

After supper she and Toea were taken on shore, and at once went to Velo's house (which was that formerly occupied by Barry). The Samoan and his wife received them with delight, and in a few minutes the house was filled with native women and girls who came to see the box of presents brought for Paní. Then, surrounded by the women, Mrs. Tracey went away to sleep for the last time in the house occupied by old Roku and Gurden's connections—the people who had been so kind to her during those first long, weary months on Tebuan.

At six o'clock in the morning Barry came ashore in the whaleboat, followed by the dinghy, which was to convey the prisoners on board. They were at once handed over by their native guards to Joe and his boat's crew, who assisted them down to the dinghy, and then pulled off to the ship.

Barradas received them at the gangway, and, taking no heed of the murderous looks and savage curses of the Greek, saw that they were placed in the deck-house and a sentry put over them. Their leg-irons, he told them, Barry intended to remove once the brig was clear of the land. Rawlings made no reply, but the Greek broke out afresh with a torrent of curses, and suddenly raising his manacled hands he brought them down upon the Spaniard's cheek and cut it to the bone. In another moment Joe would have felled the brute, ironed as he was, to the deck, but Barradas sternly struck aside his arm, and without a word of anger calmly went below and got the steward to stitch together the gaping wound.

On shore the people of Tebuan were clustering around the white woman and Barry as they stood together beside the flag-pole from which the red ensign of England streamed out to the lusty trade wind.

Velo, ever faithful Velo, wrung Barry's hand again and again, for proud as he was of being placed in charge of the island, his distress at parting from him was very great.

"There, good-bye once more, Velo. Don't work too hard, and, if a man-of-war comes, be sure you go on board and give the captain that letter. Come, Mrs. Tracey, we must be going. See, Barradas is already hove short, and waiting for us."

Helping Mrs. Tracey into the whaleboat, Barry followed, and grasped the long steer-oar.

"Give it to her, men, there's the brig breaking her heart to get away."

The light boat shot out like an arrow, and was soon alongside, and Mrs. Tracey was met at the gangway by Joe and another white seaman, both dressed in new duck suits given them by Barradas.

But instead of going into the cabin Mrs. Tracey waited at the gangway for Barry.

"I want to welcome the new captain of my ship," she said with a smile, as she held out her hand to him.

"Thank you, madam," and Barry raised his hat to her in such a formal manner that she laughed again, and asked him if he was afraid of the brig's owner, and Joe winked atrociously at Sam Button, and said in a loud whisper—

"He's a lucky cove, e' is, Sam. W'y 'e can marry the howner for the arskin'. I can see it in 'er eye, stickin' out a foot."

"Man the windlass again, Mr. Barradas," and Barry with a happy smile sprang on the poop, and himself took the wheel.

"Aye, aye, Captain Barry."

Up came the anchor from the coral bed in which it had lain for so many months, and ten minutes later the Mahina was slipping through the smooth water of the lagoon towards the passage. Another hour, with every stitch of her white cotton canvas shining bright in the glorious noonday sun, she was dashing over the long mountain swell of the North Pacific, and heading south before the brave north-east trade wind.

At noon the watches were picked, and then the captain ordered the Solomon Islanders to be brought on deck. They came up one by one with the expectation of being at once shot. Togaro, the leader, who understood and spoke a little English, glared resentfully at Barry when the latter ordered him to step out from the rest and listen to what he had to say.

"Togaro," said the captain, "I don't want to keep all your fellows down there in the hold, and no harm will be done to any of you if you obey orders. If you do as I tell you, then I will put you all ashore at Bouka in about two or three weeks from now. Now this is what you must do: eight of you can stay on deck at a time to help the sailors; the other eight must stay below. If any one of them tries to come on deck without permission he will be shot. Do you understand?"

The savage nodded.

"And as you are the boss, you will be shot too. Do you understand that?"

"Me savee, cap'en," replied Togaro, turning to his companions and translating Barry's speech. They grinned approval, and each one promised to faithfully obey the captain's orders, and as a proof of their honesty one of them descended into the hold and reappeared with three or four tomahawks and some knives which they had concealed among the cases of shell.

"That's all right, Togaro," said Barry as the weapons were passed over to Joe; "if you and your people are good fellows, you shall have these tomahawks and knives back again when we get to Bouka. And if you work well you'll get plenty of kai kai; if you don't, you'll feel hungry all the time. Steward, serve them out pipes and tobacco and tell the cook to give them a good square feed right away—the poor devils must be pretty hungry by this time."

"Captain Barry," said Mrs. Tracey to him as he rejoined her on the after-deck, "you ought to be an admiral. How easily you did it all! Look now! There are those dreadful savages sitting down as quietly as if there had never been any trouble with them. I won't have the slightest fear of them in the future."

"I don't think there will be any danger to be apprehended from them now. Togaro, the leader, and myself had a little difference once–"

"I know. Velo has told me all about it–"

"And he'll be careful in the future. He's a thundering savage though, and I've no doubt but that he murdered poor Harry. However, bygones must be bygones now. We want no more bloodshed."

"No indeed," she said with a shudder, "but what has occurred was no fault of yours. You are, I am sure," she added impulsively, placing her hand on his arm, "a merciful man, as well as a brave one. Your wife that is to be will be a happy woman, Mr. Barry."

For thirteen days the little Mahina ran southward under cloudless skies and over softly swelling seas till Bouka was sighted, and Togaro and his men prepared to be landed in a little bay fringed with coco-palms growing around a half-circle of snowy beach. They had all behaved well, and each man, ere he got into the boat which was to take them ashore, insisted on shaking hands with Barry and every one else on board. They were landed at sundown, and by dark the Mahina was again slipping over the long Pacific swell with the light of myriad stars illumining her snowy canvas and shining upon her spotless deck.

CHAPTER XVI.

EXIT RAWLINGS AND THE GREEK

At daylight one morning, a week after leaving Bouka Island, the Mahina was lying becalmed off Nitendi, one of the islands of the Santa Cruz group, and just as Barry came on deck for his coffee the look-out called to Barradas—

"Sail ho, sir, right astern!"

Barry ran aloft, and there six or seven miles astern was a schooner-rigged steamer. Barradas, who had followed him, knew her at once.

"That's the Reynard, sir—one of the Sydney squadron patrolling the New Hebrides. I've seen her pretty often, and know her well."

"Ah, we're in luck, Manuel. There's a chance now of getting rid of our prisoners—for a time at least. She's steaming this way, and will be up to us in another hour. Get the whaleboat ready and hoist our colours."

There was no need for the Mahina to signal that she desired to communicate with the warship, for the latter steamed steadily along till she was abreast of the brig, and then stopped her engines and waited for Barry to come aboard.

In a few minutes the master of the Mahina was on the quarter-deck of the Reynard talking to her commander, a clean-shaven, youthful-looking officer.

"Come below, Mr. Barry, and tell me your story in detail," he said politely. "I will do all I can to assist you, if it was only for the pleasure of hearing that that scoundrel, Billy Chase, is no longer in the land of the living. And I must compliment you upon your good-nature and sound judgment in carrying back his natives to Bouka. I wish there were more trading captains like you in the distressful South Seas."

Lieutenant-Commander Martyn listened with intense interest to Barry's strange story, from the time he came on board the Mahina in Sydney Harbour till the Reynard was sighted.

"It is a perfect romance," he declared, "and you'll be quite a famous man in the history of the South Seas. Now as to your prisoners. As you have made the request I'll take them from you. My orders from the Admiral are to follow out the High Commissioner's instructions 'to maintain order and arrest all suspicious persons within the jurisdiction of the High Commissioner for the Western Pacific,' and these two fellows you have on board your vessel certainly come within the category of 'suspicious persons'—to put it mildly. I am bound to Noumea, New Caledonia, and from there I can send them on to Sydney or Fiji for the trial—wish I could dispose of them both in the good old-fashioned style, by dangling them from the end of the yard-arm. Now as to this other man, Barradas. He seems to have made all the amends possible in his power, but nevertheless he certainly was their accomplice in the piracy of the vessel. This may mean from two to five years' imprisonment for him—unless," he added carelessly, "he runs away before you get to Sydney."

Barry rose, when the commander bade him be seated again. "Don't go just yet, Mr. Barry. Take another whiskey-and-soda with me, and then I'll go aboard your ship, take over the custody of those two anointed scoundrels, and"—here he smiled—"ask to be introduced to the heroine of your strange tale."

He touched the bell on the table and gave the necessary orders to the sentry, and in a few seconds the boatswain's whistle called away one of the boats which, with the commander and a junior lieutenant, left the Reynard, together with Barry, who was in his own boat, but went alongside the Mahina first so as to receive the naval officer with all due ceremony.

Stepping on the deck, Commander Martyn returned Barry's salute in the usual naval manner—as if he had never before seen him in his life—and asked to see the ship's papers. He was conducted to the cabin, and the ship's papers and all other necessary documents bearing upon John Tracey's rights of possession of Arrecifos laid before him for examination.

"Everything is quite right, Mr. Barry," he said formally. "Now please hand over your prisoners to Lieutenant Jenkins, who will take them away immediately."

Then the coxswain of the man-of-war's boat and two bluejackets entered the sail-room, and Rawlings and the Greek were brought out, handcuffed, and helped down over the side into the boat. Neither of them looked at Barry, nor he at them, until their backs were turned to him. Not once during the voyage had he spoken to them, and now, though he did not know it, he saw them for the last time.

"Now, Mr. Barry–" and the naval officer turned to him with a smile.

The captain of the Mahina tapped at Mrs. Tracey's cabin door.

"Captain Martyn, of the Reynard, would like to be introduced to you, Mrs. Tracey," he said.

The door opened at once and Alice Tracey met the officer with outstretched hand. "And I am very pleased indeed," she said with a bright smile as Martyn bent low over her hand. He had no idea that he would see so beautiful a woman in the cabin of a South Sea trading vessel.

"Yours is indeed a strange, sad story, Mrs. Tracey," he said as he sat down beside her, "and the master of this vessel" (Barry had discreetly gone on deck) "seems to have acted in an exceedingly brave manner throughout. He looks—and of course he is—a very plucky fellow and a perfect type of the British seaman."

"He is indeed! He is like my poor husband"—her voice trembled—"who was also a perfect type of an English sailor."

The commander of the Reynard and Mrs. Tracey remained chatting together for nearly a quarter of an hour; he, delighted to meet an educated and refined white woman under such strange circumstances, and she listening with a secret pleasure to his praises of "Mr." Barry—for, like all naval officers, Commander Martyn could not address or speak of a merchant skipper as "captain."

Then "Mr." Barry came down and he and the naval officer and Mrs. Tracey drank a glass of champagne together, and exchanged various promises to meet again when the Reynard came to Sydney at the end of her cruise.

"This meeting with you, Mrs. Tracey, is the only pleasurable incident of a detestable cruise, I can assure you," said Martyn as he bade her farewell; "the Reynard is a beast of a ship and we are employed on beastly work; in fact I'm nothing better than a London sergeant of police detailed off for duty to watch 'the criminal classes' in Southwark or the Borough Road. Wish to goodness, however, that I was there now instead of stewing in these wretched islands—chasing slavers we can never catch and assailed by the Australian newspapers as 'lazy, la-de-da "haw-haws."' Wish I had one of those newspaper fellows on board the Reynard to show him how the much-maligned naval officer doing patrol work in the South Seas manages to live and keep his men from rank mutiny. Now, good-bye once more. Hope we'll all meet in Sydney soon."