THE MADMAN AND THE PIRATE, BY R. M. BALLANTYNE. 

CHAPTER ONE. 

A beautiful island lying like a gem on the breast of the great Pacific--a coral reef surrounding, and a calm lagoon within, on the glass-likesurface of which rests a most piratical-looking schooner. 

Such is the scene to which we invite our reader's attention for a littlewhile. 

At the time of which we write it was an eminently peaceful scene. Sostill was the atmosphere, so unruffled the water, that the island andthe piratical-looking schooner seemed to float in the centre of a duplexworld, where every cloudlet in the blue above had its exact counterpartin the blue below. No sounds were heard save the dull roar of thebreaker that fell, at long regular intervals, on the seaward side of thereef, and no motion was visible except the back-fin of a shark as it cuta line occasionally on the sea, or the stately sweep of an albatross, asit passed above the schooner's masts and cast a look of solemn inquiryupon her deck. 

But that schooner was not a pirate. She was an honest trader--at leastso it was said--though what she traded in we have no more notion thanthe albatross which gazed at her with such inquisitive sagacity. Herdecks were not particularly clean, her sails by no means snow-white. She had, indeed, four goodly-sized carronades, but these were not anextraordinary part of a peaceful trader's armament in those regions, where man was, and still is, unusually savage. The familiar Union Jackhung at her peak, and some of her men were sedate-looking Englishmen, though others were Lascars and Malays, of the cut-throat type, of whomany wickedness might be expected when occasion served. 

The crew seemed to have been overcome by the same somnolent influencethat had subdued Nature, for they all lay about the deck sleeping ordozing in various sprawling attitudes, with the exception of the captainand the mate. 

The former was a huge, rugged man of forbidding aspect, and obviouslysavage temper. The latter--well, it is not easy to say what were hischief characteristics, so firmly did he control the features of a finecountenance in which the tiger-like blue eyes alone seemed untamable. He was not much above the middle height; but his compact frame was wiryand full of youthful force. 

"Lower away the dinghy, " said the captain, gruffly, to the mate, "andlet one of these lazy lubbers get into her with a box of figs. Get intoher yourself? I may want you. "

The mate replied with a stern "Ay, ay, sir, " and rose from thegun-carriage on which he had been seated, while the captain went below. 

In a few minutes the latter reappeared, and soon the little boat withits three occupants was skimming over the lagoon towards the land. 

On that land a strange and interesting work was going on at the time. It was no less than the erection of a church by men who had never beforeplaced one stone upon another--at least with a view to house-building. 

The tribe to which these builders belonged had at first received theirmissionary with yells of execration, had torn the garments from hisback, had kicked him into the sea and would infallibly have drowned himif the boat from which he landed had not returned in haste and rescuedhim. Fortunately, that missionary was well accustomed to a state ofnudity, being himself a South Sea islander. He was also used to apretty rough life, besides being young and strong. He therefore soonrecovered from the treatment he had received, and, not many weeksafterwards, determined to make another attempt to land on the island ofRatinga--as our coral-gem on the ocean's breast was named. 

For Waroonga's heart had been opened by the Holy Spirit to receive JesusChrist, and the consequent flame of love to the souls of his countrymenburned too brightly to be quenched by a first failure. The desire topossess the little box of clothes and trifles with which he had landedon Ratinga had been the cause, he thought, of the savages attacking him;so he resolved to divest himself totally of this world's goods and go tohis brethren with nothing but the Word of God in his hand. He did so. The mission-boat once again conveyed him from headquarters to the sceneof his former discomfiture, and, when close to the beach, where thenatives awaited the landing of the party with warlike demonstrations, heslipped out of his clothes into the water and swam ashore--the Bible, inthe native tongue, being tied carefully on the top of his head to keepit dry. 

Surprise at this mode of proceeding caused the natives to receive himwith less violence than before. Their curiosity led them to listen towhat he had to say. Then a chief named Tomeo took him by the shoulders, placed his nose against that of Waroonga and rubbed it. This beingequivalent to a friendly shake of the hand, the missionary signalled tohis friends in the boat to go away, which they accordingly did, and lefttheir courageous brother to his fate. 

It is not our purpose to recount the whole history of this good man'senterprise. Let it suffice to say that the natives of Ratinga turnedround, childlike--and they were little more than grown up children--swallowed all he had to say and did all he bid them do--or nearly all, for of course there were a few self-willed characters among them whoobjected at first to the wholesale changes that Waroonga introduced intheir manners and customs. In the course of a few months they formallyembraced Christianity, burned their idols, and solemnly promised that ifany more unfortunate ships or boats chanced to be wrecked on theirshores they would refrain from eating the mariners. Thus muchaccomplished, Waroonga, in the joy of his heart, launched a canoe, andwith some of his converts went off to headquarters to fetch his wife. He fetched her, and she fetched a fat little brown female baby alongwith her. Missionaries to the Southern seas, as is well known, endeavour to impress on converts the propriety, not to say decency, of amoderate amount of clothing. Mrs Waroonga--who had been named Betsy--was therefore presented to the astonished natives of Ratinga in a shortcalico gown of sunflower pattern with a flounce at the bottom, a brightyellow neckerchief, and a coal-scuttle bonnet, which quivered somewhatin consequence of being too large and of slender build. Decency andpropriety not being recognised, apparently, among infants, the brownbaby--who had been named Zariffa at baptism--landed in what may bestyled Adamite costume. 

Then Waroonga built himself a bamboo house, and set up a school. Soonafter that he induced a half Italian, half Spanish sailor, named AntonioZeppa, who had been bred in England, to settle with his wife and son onthe island, and take charge of the school. 

For this post Zeppa and his wife were well qualified, both havingreceived an education beyond that usually given to persons in their rankof life. Besides this, Antonio Zeppa had a gigantic frame, a genialdisposition, and a spirit of humility, or rather childlike simplicity, which went far to ingratiate him with the savages. 

After several years' residence in this field of labour, Waroongaconceived the grand idea of building a house of God. It was to be builtof coral-rock, cemented together with coral-lime!

Now, it was while the good people of Ratinga were in the first fervourof this new enterprise, that the dinghy with its three occupantsapproached their shore. 

At that particular point of time the walls of the new church had begunto rise above the foundations, for the chief, Tomeo, had entered intothe matter with intense enthusiasm, and as Tomeo was supreme chief, every one else felt bound to follow his example and work hard; but, todo them justice, they required no stimulant; the whole community enteredinto it with inexpressible glee. 

Zeppa taught them everything, because no one else knew anything, exceptof course Waroonga, who, however, was not much in advance of his nativecongregation save in spiritual matters. Zeppa showed them how to burnlime out of the coral-rock, and they gazed with open-eyed--andopen-mouthed wonder at the process. Then the great chief Tomeo gave theword to burn lime, and Buttchee, the chief second in command, backed himup by kicking the native nearest to his foot and echoing the order, "Go, burn lime!" The entire population began to burn lime forthwith, andwould have gone on burning lime enough to have built a South Sea pyramidequal to Cheops, if they had not been checked and their blazing energiesturned into stone-hewing and dressing, and other channels. 

Thus the work went on merrily, and so engrossed were they with it thatthey did not at first observe the arrival of the visitors. Of coursethey were aware of the schooner's presence, and had been off to her theprevious day, before she had furled her sails, to offer fruits andvegetables; but it was some time before they discovered that threestrangers had landed and were gazing at them while they toiled. 

Zeppa had a black servant, a negro, whom he had induced to follow him. This man took a prominent oversight of the works. He was by nature acook, but church-building occupied his leisure moments, and he pridedhimself upon being not only cleverer, but considerably blacker, than theislanders. 

"Now you keep out ob de road, leetil Za. " This was addressed toZariffa, who, by that time, could not only toddle but trowel, besidesbeing able to swim like a duck. "Take care, missy Za, dat clumsy fellerwid the big stone--let him fall, and--oh!"

The negro gave vent to a yell, for the accident he feared actuallyoccurred. The clumsy native let a huge piece of coral-rock fall fromhis shoulder, which just missed crushing the brown little girl. Itdropped on a mass of soft lime, which flew up in all directions, makingZariffa piebald at once, and, what was more serious, sending a lumpstraight into Tomeo's face. This was too much for the great man. Heseized the culprit by the neck, and thrust his brown visage down uponthe lime, from which he arose white, leaving a beautiful cast of hisfeatures behind him. 

Tomeo was pacified at once. He burst into a loud laugh, while theguilty man slunk humbly away, not, however, without receiving a salutefrom Buttchee's active foot in passing. 

At this moment Zeppa came up, holding his son Orlando, a well-grown ladof fourteen, by the hand. He at once observed the captain of theschooner, and, going forward, shook hands with him and the mate. He hadmade their acquaintance the day before, when the vessel anchored in thelagoon. 

"I have come to say good-bye, Mr Zeppa. We have finished taking infresh water sooner than I had expected, and will be ready to sail withthe evening breeze. "

"Indeed? I regret this for various reasons" replied Zeppa, in a softmusical voice, that one scarcely expected to issue from such a capaciouschest. There was about the man an air of gentle urbanity and tendernesswhich might have induced a stranger to suppose him effeminate, had nothis manly looks and commanding stature rendered the idea absurd. "Inthe first place, " he continued, "my wife and I had hoped to show yousome hospitality. You know we seldom have visitors to thisout-of-the-way island. Then we wanted your advice with regard to thebuilding of our church, which, you see, is progressing rapidly; andlast, but not least, I wished to ask a favour, which it will beimpossible to grant if you sail to-night. "

"Perhaps not impossible, " said Captain Daniel, whose gruff nature wasirresistibly mellowed by the sweet spirit of the giant who addressedhim. "What d'ye want me to do?"

"I meant to ask a passage in your vessel for my son and myself to theisland of Otava. It is not far off, and you said yesterday that youintend to pass close to it. You see, I am something of a trader, aswell as a missionary-schoolmaster; but if you sail to-night I have nottime to get ready. "

"If that's all your difficulty, " returned the captain, "I'll delay tillto-morrow night. A day won't make much difference--will it, Mr Rosco?"he said, turning to the mate. 

"You know best" replied the mate somewhat sharply, "I don't command theschooner. "

The captain looked at the officer with an angry frown, and then, turningquickly to Zeppa, said--

"Well, if that time will do, it is settled. You and your son may gowith me. And, see here, I've brought a box of figs for your wife, sinceyou won't take anything for the help you gave me this morning. "

"You shall present it yourself, " said Zeppa, with a pleased smile. 

"Hi! Ebony, " hailing the negro, "tell Marie to come here. She is inthe palm-grove. "

Ebony found his mistress and delivered his message. 

Madame Zeppa was a pretty little fair woman, of French extraction. Shehad been a lady's-maid, and, having been born and brought up chiefly inEngland, spoke English fluently, though with a slightly foreign accentderived from her mother. 

"Missis, " said the negro, in a low voice, and with a mysterious look, ashe followed her out of the palm-grove, "massa him wants to go widschooner. Don' let him go. "

"Why not, Ebony?"

"Kase I no likes him. "

"You don't like the schooner?"

"No, de cappin ob de skooner. Hims bad man for certin. Please don' letmassa go. "

"You know I never give master his orders, " returned madame, with a lightlaugh. 

"Better if you did, now an' den, " muttered the negro, in a tone, however, which rendered the advice not very distinct. 

The fair little woman received the box of figs graciously; the captainand mate were invited to the abode of Zeppa, where they met the nativemissionary, and soon after returned to their vessel to make preparationsfor departure. 

"Marie, " said Zeppa that night as they, with their boy, sat down to restafter the labours of the day, "I expect to be away about three weeks. With anything of a wind the schooner will land us on Otava in two orthree days. Business won't detain me long, and a large canoe, wellmanned, will bring Orlando and me back to you in a week or so. It isthe first time I shall have left you for so long since our wedding. Youwon't be anxious, little woman?"

"I would not be anxious if I were sure you went with good people, "returned Marie, with a slightly troubled look; "but are you sure of thecaptain?"

"I am sure of nobody except you, Marie, " returned her husband, with asmile that contained a dash of amusement in it. 

"And me, father, " said Orlando, assuming an injured look. 

"Well, Orley, I can't say that I am quite sure of you, you rascal, "returned his father playfully. "That spice of mischief in yourcomposition shakes me at times. However, we will leave that question toanother time. Meanwhile, what makes you doubt the captain, Marie?"

"Ebony seems to doubt him; and I have great faith in Ebony's judgment. "

"So have I; but he is not infallible. We should never get on in life ifwe gave way to groundless fears, dear wife. Besides, have we not thepromise, `Lo, I am with you alway?'"

On the following afternoon a fresh breeze sprang up and thepiratical-looking schooner, bowing gracefully before it, sailed acrossthe now ruffled lagoon and stood out to sea, while Marie with themissionary and his wife, and a crowd of natives, stood at the end of thecoral wharf, waving farewell to Zeppa and his son as long as theirfigures could be distinguished. After that, they continued to gaze atthe diminishing vessel until it melted like a little speck at themeeting-place of sea and sky. 

That night an event which had been long pending was precipitated. 

Captain Daniel had given way to his fierce temper so often during thevoyage, and had behaved with such cruel tyranny to his crew, that theyhad resolved to stand it no longer. His harsh conduct to the mate, inparticular, who was a favourite with the men, had fostered the spirit ofindignation, and the mate himself, being a man of no fixed principles, although good-natured enough when not roused, had at last determined toside with the men. He was a man of fierce passions, and had been rousedby his superior's tyranny and insolence to almost uncontrollable fury;but he had not at that time been guilty of absolute insubordination. 

When the vessel's course had been laid that night--which chanced to be aFriday, as some of the crew afterwards remembered--and the cabin lamphad been lighted, the captain sent for the mate, who saw by his looksthat a storm was brewing. 

"What did you mean, sir, " began the captain at once, "by that insolentreply you made to me on shore yesterday?"

The young man might have answered temperately if they had been alone, but Zeppa was lying on a locker reading, and his son was also present, and Rosco knew that the captain meant to put him to shame before them. His spirit fired. 

"Scoundrel!" he cried, "the measure of your iniquity is filled. Youshall no longer command this schooner--"

Thus far he got when the captain, livid with rage, sprang up to rush athim. Zeppa also leaped up to aid in putting down what he clearlyperceived was premeditated mutiny, but the mate sprang out of the cabin, and, shutting the door with a bang, locked it. At the same instant theman at the wheel--knowing what had occurred--closed and fastened thecabin sky-light. The captain threw himself several times with all hisweight against the door, but it opened inwards and could not be forced. 

There were two square windows in the stern of the schooner, one of whichwas open. Orlando perceived this, sprang up, clambered through it, gained the deck unperceived, and, running down the companion stair, pastall the men, rushed against the cabin door, and burst it open. 

Zeppa was endeavouring at the moment to wrench off the lock and wasnearly thrown back. Recovering, he struck fiercely out at those whothronged the dark passage. 

"Oh! father, " groaned Orlando, as he fell before the blow. 

With a terrible cry of consternation Zeppa stooped to pick up his child. He was felled with a handspike as he did so; the crew then rushed intothe cabin and the captain was overpowered and bound. 

"Overboard wi' them all!" shouted one of the men. 

There were some among these villains who, having once given the reins totheir rage, were capable of anything. These, ready to act on thediabolical suggestion, attempted to drag Zeppa and the captain up thecompanion ladder, but their great size and weight rendered the effortdifficult. Besides, Zeppa's consciousness was returning, and hestruggled powerfully. It was otherwise with poor Orlando. One of theruffians easily raised the lad's light frame and bore him to the deck. Next moment a sharp cry and splash were heard. Zeppa understood it, forhe had seen his son carried away. With a wild shout he burst from thosewho held him, and would certainly have gained the deck and leapedoverboard had not a mutineer from behind felled him a second time. 

When Rosco heard what had been done he ran furiously on deck, but oneglance at the dark sea, as the schooner rushed swiftly over it sufficedto show him that the poor boy's case was hopeless. 

But Orley's case was not as hopeless as it seemed. The plunge revivedhim. Accustomed to swim for hours at a time in these warm waters, hefound no difficulty in supporting himself. Of course his progress wasaimless, for he could not see any distance around him, but a friend hadbeen raised up for him in that desperate hour. At the moment he hadbeen tossed overboard, a sailor, with a touch of pity left in his breasthad seized a life-buoy and thrown it after him. Orlando, after swimmingabout for a few minutes, struck against this buoy by chance--if we mayventure to use that word in the circumstances. 

Seizing the life-preserver with an earnest "thank God" in his heart ifnot on his lips, he clung to it and looked anxiously around. 

The sight was sufficiently appalling. Thick darkness still brooded onthe deep, and nothing was visible save, now and then, the crest of abreaking wave as it passed close to him, or, rolling under him, delugedhis face with spray. 

CHAPTER TWO. 

When Antonio Zeppa recovered consciousness, he found himself lying on amattress in the schooner's hold, bound, bleeding, and with a dull anddreadful sense of pain at his breast, which at first he could notaccount for. Ere long the sudden plash of a wave on the vessel's siderecalled his mind to his bereavement; and a cry--loud, long, andterrible--arose from the vessel's hold, which caused even the stoutestand most reckless heart on board to quail. 

Richard Rosco--now a pirate captain--heard it as he sat alone in hiscabin, his elbows resting on the table, and his white face buried in hishands. He did not repent--he could not repent; at least so he said tohimself while the fires kindled by a first great crime consumed him. 

Men do not reach the profoundest depths of wickedness at one bound. Thedescent is always graduated--for there are successive rounds to theladder of sin--but it is sometimes awfully sudden. When young Roscoleft England he had committed only deeds which men are apt lightly toname the "follies" of youth. These follies, however, had proved to beterrible leaks through which streams of corruption had flowed in uponhis soul. Still, he had no thought of becoming a reckless or heartlessman, and would have laughed to scorn any one who should have hinted thathe would ever become an outlaw and a pirate. But oppression boreheavily on his hasty, ill-disciplined temper, and now the lowest roundof the ladder had been reached. 

Even in this extremity he did not utterly give way. He would not becomean out-and-out pirate. He would merely go forth as a plunderer torevenge himself on the world which had used him so ill. He would rob--but he would not kill; except of course in self-defence, or when menrefused to give up what he demanded. He would temper retributivejustice with mercy, and would not suffer injury to women or children. In short, he would become a semi-honourable, high-minded sort of pirate, pursuing wealth without bloodshed! True, in the sad case of poorOrlando, he had not managed to steer clear of murder; but then that deedwas done without his orders or knowledge. If his comrades in crime hadagreed, he would have preferred some sort of smuggling career; but theywould not listen to that, so he had at last consented to hoist the blackflag. 

While the wretched youth was endeavouring to delude himself and gathercrumbs of comfort from such thoughts as these, the awful cry from theship's hold again rang out, and as his thoughts reverted to the bereavedfather, and the fair, light-hearted little mother on Ratinga Island, thedeadly pallor that overspread his countenance was intensified. 

Rising hastily--with what intent he himself hardly knew--he proceeded tothe hold. It was broad day at the time, and sufficient light penetratedthe place to reveal the figure of Antonio Zeppa crouching on hismattress, with his chin upon his knees, his handsome face disfiguredwith the blood that had dried upon it, and a wild, fierce light gleamingin his eyes. 

He did not speak or move when Rosco entered and sat down on the head ofa cask near him. 

"Zeppa, " he said, with intense earnestness, "as God shall be my judge, Idid not mean to--to--throw--to do this to your boy. It was done withoutmy knowledge. "

"Hah!" burst from the stricken father; but nothing more, while hecontinued to gaze in the pirate captain's face. 

"Indeed it is true, " continued Rosco hurriedly. "I had no intention ofletting murder be done. I would not even slay the captain who has usedme so ill. I would give my life if I could alter it now--but I cannot. "

"Hah!" gasped Zeppa again, still keeping his eyes fixed on Rosco's face. 

"Don't look at me that way, " pleaded the pirate, "as if I had done thedeed. You know I didn't. I swear I didn't! If I had been there, Iwould have saved Orlando at the cost of--"

He was interrupted at this point by the repetition of the cry which hadbefore reached him in the cabin; but how much more awful did thatdespairing cry sound near at hand, as it issued full, deep-toned, andstrong, from the chest of the Herculean man! There was a difference init also this time--it terminated in a wild, fiendish fit of laughter, which caused Rosco to shrink back appalled; for now he knew that heconfronted a maniac!

For some minutes the madman and the pirate sat gazing at each other insilent horror. Then the latter rose hastily and turned to leave thehold. As he did so, the madman sprang towards him, but he was checkedby the chains which bound him, and fell heavily on the deck. 

Returning to the cabin, Rosco went to a locker and took out a casebottle, from which he poured half a tumbler of brandy and drank it. Then he summoned the man who had been appointed his second in command. 

"Redford, " he said, assuming, by a mighty effort of self-restraint acalm tone and manner, "you told me once of a solitary island lying along way to the south of the Fiji group. D'you think you could lay ourcourse for it?"

"I'm sure I could, sir; but it is very much out of the way of commerce, and--"

"There is much sandal-wood on it, is there not?" asked Rosco, interrupting him. 

"Ay, sir, plenty of that, an' plenty of fierce natives too, who willgive us a warm reception. I would--"

"So much the better, " returned the captain, with a cynical smile, againinterrupting; "we may be able to obtain a load of valuable wood fornothing, and get rid of our cowards at the same time. Go, lay ourcourse for--what's the island's name?"

"I don't know its right name, sir; but we call it Sugar-loaf Island fromthe shape of one end of it. "

"That will do. And hark ye, friend, when I give orders or ask questionsin future, don't venture to offer advice or raise objections. Let thecrew understand that we must be able to pass for lawful traders, andthat a load of sandal-wood will answer our purpose well enough. It willbe your wisdom, also, to bear in mind that discipline is as useful onboard a Free Rover as on board a man-of-war, and that there is only oneway to maintain it. "

The pirate captain pointed to a brace of pistols that lay on the tablebeside him, and said, "Go. "

Redford went, without uttering another word. His was one of thosecoarse natures which are ever ready to presume and take advantage whenthere is laxity in discipline, but which are not difficult to subdue bya superior will. He forthwith spread the report that the new captainwas a "stiff un, " a fact which nearly all the men were rather glad thanotherwise to hear. 

For some days after leaving Ratinga a stiff breeze enabled theschooner--which had been re-named by its crew the "Free Rover"--toproceed southward rapidly. Then a profound calm succeeded, and for acouple of days the vessel lay almost motionless on the sea. 

During all this time the poor maniac in her hold lay upon hisblood-stained couch, for no one dared--at least no one cared--toapproach him. At meal times the cook pushed a plate of food within hisreach. He usually took no notice of this until, hunger constrained himto devour a little, almost savagely. No word would he speak, but moanedcontinually without intermission, save when, in a burst ofuncontrollable anguish, he gave vent to the terrible cry which soweighed on the spirits of the men, that they suggested to each other thepropriety of throwing the father overboard after the son. Redford'sreport of his interview with the captain, however, prevented thesuggestion being acted on. 

It is possible that the two tremendous blows which Zeppa had receivedduring the mutiny may have had something to do with his madness; butthere can be no doubt that the intense mutual affection which hadsubsisted between him and his only child, and the sudden and awfulmanner of that child's end, were of themselves sufficient to account forit. 

For Orlando had been all that a father could wish; loving, gentle, tender, yet lion-like and courageous in action, with a powerful framelike that of his father, and a modest, cheerful spirit like that of hismother. No wonder that both parents doted on him as their noblestterrestrial gift from God. 

"And now, " thought the crushed man, as he crouched on his mattress inthe hold, "he is gone, --snatched away before my eyes, suddenly and _forever_!"

It was when this thought recurred, again and again, that the cry ofagony burst from him, but it was invariably succeeded by the thought, "No, not _for ever_. Orlando is with the Lord. We shall see him again, Marie and I, when we reach the better land. "

And then Zeppa would laugh lightly, but the laugh would merge again intothe bitter cry, as the thought would recur persistently--"gone--gone--for ever!"

Oh! it was pitiful to see the strong man thus reduced, and reasondethroned; and terrible were the pangs endured by the pirate chief as heheard and saw; but he had now schooled himself to accept what he calledhis "fate, " and was able to maintain a calm, indifferent demeanourbefore his men. Of course he never for a moment, during all that time, thought of crying to God for mercy, for as long as a man continues toascribe his sins and their consequences to "fate, " he is a rampant andwilful, besides being an unphilosophical, rebel against his Maker. 

At last, one afternoon, the peak of Sugar-loaf Island was descried onthe horizon, close to where the sun was descending amid a world ofgolden clouds. 

"Which side is the best for landing on!" asked the captain of his mate. 

"The southern end, sir, which is steep and uninhabited, " said Redford. 

In half an hour they were under the shelter of the cliffs close to acreek, at the inner end of which there was a morsel of flat beach. Beyond this lay a richly wooded piece of land, which seemed to beconnected with a gorge among the hills. 

"Lower the boat" said Rosco. "Have three men ready, and, when I call, send them to the hold. "

He descended as he spoke, and approached Zeppa, who looked at him withunmistakable ferocity. 

"You are going on shore, " he said to the poor madman, who seemed neitherto comprehend nor to care for what he said. 

"Once again, " continued Rosco, after a pause, "I tell you that I had nohand in the death of your son. My men, if they had their way, wouldsoon treat you as they treated him. They want to get rid of you, so, tosave your life, I must send you on shore. It is an island--inhabited. I hope the natives will prove friendly to you. I hope you will getwell--in time. Do you understand what I say?"

Zeppa neither spoke nor moved, but continued to glare at the man whom heevidently regarded as his deadliest foe. 

A touch of pity seemed to influence the pirate captain, for he added ina softer tone, "I would have taken you with me, if it had been possible, and landed you on Ratinga. Perhaps that may yet be done. At any rate Iwill return to this island--we shall meet again. "

At last the madman spoke, in a harsh, grating tone, --"If we meet again, you shall die!"

"I will do my best to avoid that fate, " returned Rosco, with a touch ofsarcasm. "Ho! lads! come down. "

Three powerful seamen, who had stood at the hatchway awaiting thesummons, descended, and at once laid hold of Zeppa. To their surprise, he made no resistance. To every one but the captain he behaved liked alamb. Having been placed in the bottom of the boat alongside, with hishands still bound, they shoved off, and Rosco, taking the tiller, steered for the little creek. 

The instant the keel touched the land two of the men jumped out andhauled the boat ashore. The others assisted Zeppa to land. They ledhim to a grassy bank, and bade him sit down. He obeyed meekly, and satthere gazing at the ground as if unable to comprehend what was beingdone. Rosco remained in the boat while a small box of biscuit wasconveyed to the spot and left at the side of Zeppa. 

Then, removing his bonds, the men re-embarked and returned to theschooner, which soon left that part of the island far astern. While itreceded, the pirate captain kept his glass fixed on the wretched manwhom he had thus forsaken. He saw that Zeppa never once turned his headseaward, but, after gazing in a state of abstraction at the ground forsome time, rose and sauntered slowly inland. He did not appear toobserve the small supply of provision left for his use. With his chinsunk upon his breast and his hands clasped behind him, he appeared towander aimlessly forward until his tall figure was lost to view amongthe palm-groves that fringed the bottom of the mountain. 

Leaving him there, we shall turn now to poor Orlando, who had beentossed so unceremoniously into the sea. Probably the reader is awarethat the water of the southern seas is, in many parts, so much warmerthan that of our northern climes, that people may remain in it for hourswithout being chilled. Hence natives of the coral islands are almostamphibious, and our young hero, having spent much of his life amongthese islands, could swim for the greater part of a day without becomingexhausted. 

When, therefore, he caught hold of the life-preserver, as stated in thelast chapter, he clung to it with some degree of confidence; but bydegrees the depressing influence of continued darkness began to tellupon him, and he became less and less hopeful of deliverance. Hebethought him of the great distance they had sailed from Ratinga beforethe mutiny broke out, and the utter impossibility of his being able toswim back. Then he thought of sharks, and a nervous tendency to draw uphis legs and yell out affected him. But the thought of his father, andof the probable fate that awaited him, at length overbore all otherconsiderations, and threw the poor boy into such a state of despair, that he clung to the life-preserver for a long time in a state ofsemi-stupor. 

At last the day dawned faintly in the east and the glorious sun arose, and Orley's heart was cheered. From earliest infancy he had been taughtto pray, so you may be sure he did not fail at this crisis in his younglife. But no answer was returned to his prayer until a great part ofthe weary day had passed, and he had begun to look forward with dread tothe approaching night. 

As evening advanced, exhaustion began to creep over him, and more thanonce he felt himself slipping from his support under the influence ofsleep. The struggle to retain consciousness now became terrible. Hefought the battle in many ways. Sometimes he tried to shake himself upby shouting. Then he again had recourse to prayer, in a loud voice. Once he even attempted to sing, but his heart failed him, and at last hecould do nothing but grasp the life-buoy and cling with all the tenacityof despair. And, oh! what thoughts of his mother came over him then!It seemed as if every loving act and look of hers was recalled to hismind. How he longed to clasp her once more in his arms and kiss herbefore he died!

While these thoughts were gradually taking the form of a hazy dream, hewas rudely aroused by something grasping his hair. 

Sharks, of course, leaped to his mind, and he struggled round with awild gurgling shriek, for the grasp partially sank him. Then he felthimself violently dragged upwards, and his eyes encountered the darkface and glittering eye-balls of a savage. 

Then was Orley's cry of fear turned into a shout of joy, for in thatdark countenance he recognised the face of a friend. A canoe full ofRatinga natives had nearly run him down. They had been absent on anexpedition, and were alike ignorant of the visit of the Free Rover andthe departure of Antonio Zeppa. 

Their astonishment at finding Orlando in such a plight was only equalledby their curiosity to know how he had come there; but they werecompelled to exercise patience, for the poor boy, overcome by mingledjoy and exhaustion, fell back in a swoon almost as soon as he was hauledout of the water. 

Need we describe the state into which poor Madame Zeppa was thrown whenOrlando returned to her?--the strange mingling of grief and terribleanxiety about her husband's fate, with grateful joy at the restorationof her son? We think not!

Ebony, the faithful and sable servitor of the family, got hold ofOrlando as soon as his poor mother would let him go, and hurried him offto a certain nook in the neighbouring palm-grove where he was wont toretire at times for meditation. 

"You's quite sure yous fadder was not shooted?" he began, in gaspinganxiety, when he had forced the boy down on a grassy bank. 

"I think not, " replied Orley, with a faint smile at the negro'seagerness. "But you must remember that I was almost unconscious fromthe blow I received, and scarce knew what was done. "

"But you no hear no shootin'?" persisted Ebony. 

"No; and if any shots had been fired, I feel certain I should have heardand remembered them. "

"Good! den der's a chance yous fadder's alive, for if de no hab shootedhim at first, de no hab de heart to shoot him arterwards. No, he'dsmile away der wikitness; de _couldn'_ do it. "

Orlando was unable to derive much comfort from this sanguine view of theinfluence of his father's smile--bright and sweet though he knew it tobe--yet with the energy of youth he grasped at any straw of hope heldout to him. All the more that Ebony's views were emphatically backed upby the chiefs Tomeo and Buttchee, both of whom asserted that Zeppa hadnever failed in anything he had ever undertaken, and that it wasimpossible he should fail now. Thus encouraged, Orlando returned hometo comfort his mother. 

CHAPTER THREE. 

But Orley's mother refused to be comforted. What she had heard or readof pirates induced her to believe that mercy must necessarily beentirely banished from their hearts; and her husband, she knew fullwell, would sooner die than join them. Therefore, she argued in herdespair, Antonio must have perished. 

"But mother, " said Orley, in a soothing tone, "you must remember thatRosco and his men are not regular pirates. I only heard them shout`Hoist the black flag!' when they seized me; but that does not provethat they did hoist it, or that Rosco agreed to do so. They were onlymutineers, you see, and not hardened villains. "

"Hardened enough when they threw you overboard, my son, " returned poorlittle Madame Zeppa, with a sob. 

"True; but that was in the hurry of the rising, and without orders fromRosco, as far as I know. Besides, mother, have you not often told methat God will never forsake His own children? Surely, then, He will notforsake father. "

"No, oh, no! the good Lord will never forsake him. He will certainlydeliver his soul from sin and death; but God sometimes sees fit to allowthe bodies of His children to suffer and die. It may be so now. "

"Yes, mother, but also it may _not_ be so now. Let us take a hopefulview, and do what we can to find out--to find--to--"

Poor Orlando broke down here, laid his head on his little mother'sshoulder, and wept for his mind had suddenly run itself blank. What wasthere to find out? what could they do? Nothing, absolutely nothing, except pray; and they did that fervently. 

Then Orley went out to consult again with his friends. Alas! there wasno other outlet for their grief, save prayer and consultation, foraction was, in the circumstances, impossible. 

"Bin t'ink, t'inkin' horroble hard all last night. Couldn' sleep awink, " said Ebony one day, some weeks after the return of Orlando, when, according to custom, he and the native missionary and his wife, with thechiefs Tomeo and Buttchee, assembled for a consultation in thepalm-grove. 

"What have you been thinking about?" asked Orley. 

"Yous fadder, ob course. "

"Of course, " repeated the boy, "but what have you been thinking abouthim--anything new?"

"Not zackly noo, " returned the negro, with a very earnest look, "but olet'oughts turned in a noo d'rection. Sit down, Tomeo, an' I will tellyou--an' try to forgit yous hat if poss'ble. It's 'xtroarnar goodlookin', a'most as much good lookin' as yousself, so you got no occashinto be always t'inkin' about it. "

We may remark here that both Tomeo and Buttchee understood a little ofEbony's English, though they could not speak a word. The reader willunderstand, therefore, that when we put words in their mouths we onlygive a free translation of their language. In like manner Ebonyunderstood a little of the Ratinga tongue, but could not speak much ofit, and Waroonga, who himself spoke uncommonly bad, though fluent, English, interpreted when necessary. 

"Well, you mus' know, " said Ebony, "dat jus before I goes to bed las'night I heat a little too much supper--"

"You doos that every night" interrupted Buttchee, with a grin. 

Ebony ignored the interruption, and continued--

"So, you see, I dream berry bad--mos' drefful dreams! Yes. Well, whatI dream was dis. I see Massa Zeppa forced by de pierits to walk deplank--"

"What's that?" asked Tomeo. 

Waroonga looked at Ebony for an explanation, and then translated--

"When pirates want to kill people they sometimes tie up their eyes, andbind their hands, and make them walk along a plank stickin' over theship's side, till they fall off the end of it into the sea, where theyare left to drown. "

Tomeo looked at Buttchee with a grin and nodded, as though he thoughtthe mode of execution rather a good one; then, recollecting suddenlythat any mode of slaying innocent men was inconsistent with hischaracter as a convert to Christianity, he cast a glance of awfulsolemnity at Waroonga, and tried to look penitent. 

"Well, hims walk de plank like a man, " continued Ebony, "hims doodeberyting like a man. An' w'en hims topple into de sea hims give sitcha most awful wriggle dat his bonds bu'sted. But hims berry sly, wasMassa Zeppa--amazin' sly. I t'ought him lie on's back zif him be dead. Jest move a leetle to look like drownin', an' w'en he long way astern, he slew round, off wid de hanky fro hims eyes an' larf to hisseff likeone o'clock. Den he swum'd to a island an' git ashore, and climb up derocks, an' sit down--an'--an'--dat's all. "

"What! be that all?" asked Waroonga. 

"Dat's all, " repeated the negro. "I no dream no more arter dat, 'causeI was woked by a fly what hab hoed up my nose, an' kep' bumblin' in itlike steam inside ob a kittle. "

"Well, Ebony, " asked Orlando, "what conclusions do you draw from thatdream?"

"I di'nt draw no kungklooshins from it 'cos I dunno what de are. Nebberhab notin' to do wid what I don' understan'. But what I was t'ink wasdis: in de days ob old, some time after Adam an' Eve was born, a sartinking, called Fair-ho, or some sitch name (Waroonga there knows all abouthim) had a dream, that siven swine came up--"

"Kine, Ebony--not swine, " interrupted the missionary, with agood-humoured smile, "which is all the same as cows. "

"Well, den, siven fat cows come up out ob a ribber, an' hoed slap atsiven thin cows--mis'rable skinny critters that--"

"All wrong, Ebony, " again interrupted Waroonga. "It's just the otherway. The skinny ones went at the fat ones. "

"Well, ob course you must be right, " returned the negro, humbly, "thoughI'd have 'spected it was t'other way. But I s'pose the skinny ones wasso hungry that the fat ones hadn't a chance wid 'em. However, it don'tmatter. What I was goin' to say was that a good man, called Joseph, went to Fair-ho an' 'splained all his dream to him. Now, if Josephcould do dat, why shouldn't Waroonga 'splain my dream to me?"

"Because I's not Joseph, Ebony, an you're not Pharoah, " returnedWaroonga promptly. 

Tomeo and Buttchee turned looks of inquiry on Ebony as if to say, "Whatd'ye say to that, you nigger?" But the nigger said nothing for somemoments. He seemed not to have viewed the matter in that light. 

"Well, I don'no, " he said at last with a deep sigh, "I t'ought I'd gethold ob suthin' when I kitch hold ob dat dream. But, I do b'lievemyself, dat part of it means dat Zeppa hims git on an island, anyhow. "

"If my dear father got upon _anything_, it must have been an island, "said Orlando sadly. 

"That's troo, " remarked Mrs Waroonga. "Keep your mouth shut, myda'lin'. "

She referred to her brown baby, which she placed with some violence onher knee. It is well to remark here that little Zariffa had beensupplied with a coal-scuttle bonnet proportioned to her size, made byher mother out of native straw, and that she did not wear anything elsein the way of costume. 

After Ebony's dream had been thoroughly discussed in all its bearings, and viewed in every possible point of relation to their great sorrow, the council adjourned, as usual, to various duties about the flourishinglittle village, and Orlando went to lay the result before his mother, who, although she could not believe these deliberations would end inanything practical, found it impossible, nevertheless, to resist theinfluence of so much faith and strong hopefulness, so that she wassomewhat comforted, as it were, in spite of herself. Time flew by, andupwards of three years elapsed without anything happening at RatingaIsland to throw a single ray of light on the fate of the lost man. 

During that period, however, much that was interesting and encouragingoccurred to comfort the heart of the native missionary and the sorrowingMarie Zeppa. In the first place they received several visits from themission-vessel, with small supplies of such luxuries as sugar, tea, andcoffee for the body, and, for the spirit, a few bundles of tracts andbooks printed in the native tongue, among which, you may be sure, weremany copies of the Book of books, the blessed Bible. Carpenters' andsmiths' tools were also brought to them, so that they not only carriedon their house-building and other operations with greater ease thanheretofore, but even essayed the building of small boats withconsiderable success. 

On the occasion of these visits, supplies of clothing were also left forthe use of those converts who could be persuaded to put them on. But inthese matters of taste Waroonga was not so successful as he had been inspiritual things. After his first disastrous landing, he had found nodifficulty in persuading the natives to burn their false gods, and putaway their too numerous wives--reserving only one to each man;--but whenit was suggested that the usual bit of cloth round the loins was notquite sufficient for Christians, and that additional clothing wasdesirable, they betrayed decided symptoms of a tendency to rebel. 

Savages in all parts of the world are usually much influenced for goodor evil by the example of their chiefs. Those of Ratinga were noexception to the general rule, and the chiefs Tomeo and Buttchee did notencourage the putting on of clothes. In the matter of head-dress theyhad indeed given in; but when one day, Waroonga presented Tomeo with apair of what are called slop-made trousers, and advised him to put themon, slapping his own at the same time, and asserting (we trusttruthfully) that they were comfortable, Tomeo looked at them with an airof contempt and Buttchee, who was irreverent, laughed. 

After much persuasion, however, and being good-natured, he consented totry. He got one leg in easily enough, but when he attempted to put inthe other, not being accustomed to the feat, he staggered and had to letthe leg down. Raising it a second time, he made a successful plunge, got the foot in, lost his balance, made a frantic effort to disengagehis foot, and fell to the ground. 

"Sit down, my friend, and try it again, " said Waroonga, encouragingly. 

Our missionary was of a gentle, loving disposition. His successes werein every case the result of suasion. He never sought to coerce men. Tomeo with childlike simplicity rebuked his own awkwardness, and humblyseated his huge body on a bank for another effort. In this position hegot his legs easily into the trousers and drew them on, but when hestood up to complete the operation, it was found that they were verymuch too small for him, besides which he had put them on with the backto the front!

"Ah! my friend, they do not fit, " said Waroonga, thinking it unnecessaryto refer to the error. "I will find a larger pair for you in the store. But try this coat. It is the kind worn by the white man when he goesto see his friends. It will be much easier to put on, I think. " Sosaying, Waroonga produced a blue surtout with bright brass buttons. 

"No, " said Tomeo, drawing himself up with dignity, and putting thegarment aside, "I do not require it. Has not a coat of skin been givento me? I want no other. "

And truly, the dark brown skin which fitted so perfectly to his muscularframe--tattooed as it was with many elegant devices--seemed to warranthis rejection of the ill-made surtout. But in Ratinga, as elsewhere, tastes differ. Buttchee's fancy was caught by the brass buttons, and hevolunteered to put on the coat, although he had looked with scorn on thetrousers. 

Like his brother chief, however, he experienced considerable difficulty, especially in distinguishing the difference between the left arm-holeand the breast pocket, despite the able assistance of Waroonga. At lasthe got the coat partially on, and with a mighty heave, forced it uponhis broad shoulders. Then he stood with arms awkwardly curved andextended, uncertain what to do next. He was by no means properly intothe garment, and his look of solemn inquiry said as much to themissionary. 

"Try another heave, my friend, " said Waroonga, in a tone ofencouragement. 

Buttchee tried, with the result of a mysterious and incomprehensiblenoise at his back. 

"What is that?" he said quickly, with looks of alarm, as he endeavouredto glance over his shoulder. 

"I fear, " replied Waroonga with some hesitation, "that the coat hasburst!"

There could be no doubt whatever about that, for a long strip of thechief's back was visible, as if a gusset of brown leather had beenintroduced into the blue coat, from the waist to the collar. 

For a considerable time after this, both chiefs declined furtherexperiments in the clothing way, but ultimately Tomeo was induced towear a striped flannel jersey, and Buttchee, of his own accord, adopteda scarlet flannel petticoat that had been given to his wife. Thus wasthe ice of conservatism broken in the island of Ratinga, and liberalviews prevailed thenceforward in the matter of costume--whether to theadvancement of taste and decency remains to this day an open question, as all liberal and conservative questions will probably remain till thecrack of doom. 

One day, to the inexpressible surprise and joy of the islanders, a largevessel was seen to pass through the narrow opening in the coral reef, and cast anchor in the lagoon. The excitement on Ratinga was great, forvessels rarely had occasion to visit the island, although some of them, probably South Sea whalers, were seen to pass it on the horizon two orthree times a year. 

Immediately four canoes full of natives put off to visit the stranger;but on reaching her they were sternly told to keep off, and the orderwas silently enforced by the protruding muzzle of a carronade, and theforbidding aspect of several armed men who looked over the side. "Weare men of peace, " said Waroonga, who was in the foremost canoe, "andcome as Christian friends. "

"We are men of war, " growled one of the men, "an' don't want no friends, Christian or otherwise. "

"We came to offer you hospitality, " returned the missionary in aremonstrative tone. 

"An' we came to take all the hospitality we want of you without waitin'for the offer, " retorted the sailor, "so you'd better go back to whereyou came from, an' keep yourselves quiet, if ye don't want to be blowedout o' the water. "

This was sufficient. With disappointed looks the natives turned theircanoes shoreward and slowly paddled home. 

"Depend upon it, this is another pirate, " said Orlando, when Waroongareported to him the result of his visit. 

"What would you advise us to do?" asked Waroonga. 

Lest the reader should be surprised at this question, we must remind himthat Orlando had, in the course of these three years, grown up almost tomanhood. The southern blood in his veins, and the nature of the climatein which he had been born and brought up, may have had something to dowith his early development; but, whatever the cause, he had, at theearly age of eighteen, become as tall and nearly as powerful as hisfather had been, and so like to him in aspect and manner, that thenatives began to regard him with much of that respect and love whichthey had formerly entertained towards Antonio. Of course Orlando hadnot the sprinkling of grey in his short black curly hair which hadcharacterised the elder Zeppa; but he possessed enough of the blackbeard and moustache, in a soft rudimental form, to render theresemblance to what his sire had been very remarkable. His poor littlemother left the management of all her out-of-door affairs with perfectconfidence to her son. Tomeo and Buttchee also had begun to regard himas his father's successor. 

"I would advise you to do nothing, " said Orley, in reply to Waroonga'squestion, "beyond having all the fighting men of the village preparedfor action, and being ready at a moment's notice to receive thestrangers as friends if they choose to come as such. "

"Well, then, Orley, I will be ready for them, as you tell to me, if theycomes in peace; if not, you must go and carry out your own advice, foryou is manager of all secular affairs here. "

In the afternoon a large boat, full of men armed to the teeth, put offfrom the side of the strange vessel, which was barque-rigged, and rowedto the beach near the mouth of a small stream. Evidently the object ofthe visit was to procure fresh water. Having posted his men in ambush, with orders to act in strict accordance with his signals, Orlandosauntered down alone and unarmed to the place where the sailors werefilling their water-casks. 

"Is your captain here?" he asked quietly. 

The men, who were seemingly a band of thorough ruffians, looked at himin surprise, but went on filling their casks. 

"I am the captain, " said one, stepping up to the youth with an insolentair. 

"Indeed!" said Orlando, with a look of surprise. 

"Yes, indeed, and let me tell you that we have no time to troubleourselves wi' you or yours; but since you've put yourself in our power, we make you stay here till we've done watering. "

"I have no intention of leaving you, " replied Orley, seating himself ona rock, with a pleasant smile. 

"What d'ee say to kidnap the young buck?" suggested one of the men; "hemight be useful. "

"Perhaps he might be troublesome, " remarked Orlando; "but I would adviseyou to finish your work here in peace, for I have a band of threehundred men up in the bush there--not ordinary savages, let me tell you, but men with the fear of God in their hearts, and the courage of lionsin their breasts--who would think it an easy matter to sweep you all offthe face of the earth. They are ready to act at my signal--or at myfall--so it will be your wisdom to behave yourselves. "

The quiet, almost gentle manner in which this was said, had a powerfuleffect on the men. Without more words they completed the filling of thecasks, and then, re-embarking, pushed off. It was obvious that theyacted in haste. When they had gone about a couple of boat-lengths fromthe beach, one of the men rose up with a musket, and Orlando distinctlyheard him say--

"Shall I send a bullet into him?"

"If you do, the captain will skin you alive, " was the reply from one ofthe other men. 

The alternative did not seem agreeable to the first speaker, for he laiddown his musket, and resumed his oar. 

Soon after the boat reached her, the sails of the stranger were spread, and she glided slowly out of the lagoon. 

CHAPTER FOUR. 

Let us waft ourselves away, now, over the sea, in pursuit of the strangebarque which had treated the good people of Ratinga so cavalierly. 

Richard Rosco sits in the cabin of the vessel, for it is he who commandsher. He had taken her as a prize, and, finding her a good vessel in allrespects, had adopted her in preference to the old piratical-lookingschooner. A seaman stands before him. 

"It is impossible, I tell you, " says Rosco, while a troubled expressioncrosses his features, which have not improved since we saw him upwardsof three years ago. "The distance between the two islands is so greatthat it is not probable he traversed it in a canoe, especially when weconsider that he did not know the island's name or position, and wasraving mad when I put him ashore. "

"That may be so, captain, " says the sailor: "nevertheless I seed himwith my own eyes, an no mistake. Didn't you say he was a man thatnobody could mistake, tall, broad, powerful, handsome, black curly hair, short beard and moustache, with sharp eyes and a pleasant smile?"

"The same, in every particular--and just bordering on middle age, "answers the perplexed pirate. 

"Well, as to age, I can't say much about that, " returns the seaman; "heseemed to me more like a young man than a middle-aged one, but he hadcoolness and cheek enough for a hundred and fifty, or any age you like. "

"Strange, " muttered Rosco to himself, paying no regard to the lastobservation; "I wish that I or Mr Redford had gone with you, or someone who had seen him the last time we were here; but I didn't want to berecognised;" then checking himself--"Well, you may go, and send MrRedford to me. "

"I cannot account for Zeppa turning up in this way, " he said, when themate entered. 

"No more can I, sir. "

"Do all the men agree in saying that he seems to be quite sane. "

"All. Indeed most of them seemed surprised when I asked the question. You see, what with death by sword, shot, and sickness, there's not a manin the ship who ever saw him, except yourself and me. The last of theold hands, you know, went with Captain Daniel when you sent him and theunwilling men away in the old schooner. I have no doubt, myself, fromwhat they say, that Zeppa has got well again, and managed to return homeas sound and sane as you or I. "

"If you and I were sane, we should not be here, " thought the piratecaptain; but he did not give expression to the thought, save by acontemptuous curl of his lip. 

"Well, Redford, " he said, after a few seconds' pause, "my chief reasonfor going to Sugar-loaf Island is removed, nevertheless we shall stillgo there for a fresh load of sandal-wood and other things that willfetch a good price. "

"I fear, sir, " returned the mate after some hesitation, "that the crewwill be apt to mutiny, if you insist on going there. They are tired ofthis mixture of _trade_ with free-roving, and are anxious to sail inseas where we shall be more likely to fall in with something worthpicking up. "

"Stop, Redford, I want to hear no more. The crew shall go where Iplease as long as I command them; and you may add that I will guaranteetheir being pleased with my present plan. There, don't refer to thissubject again. Where did you say the British cruiser was last seen?"

"Bearing nor'-east, sir, hull down--on our starboard quarter. I calledyou at once, but she had changed her course to nor'-west and we lostsight of her. "

"That will just suit us, " said Rosco, going into his private cabin andshutting the door. 

Well might the pirate captain be perplexed at that time, for he wassurrounded by difficulties, not the least of which was that his men werethoroughly dissatisfied with him, and he with them. He did not find hiscrew sufficiently ready to go in for lucrative kidnapping of nativeswhen the chance offered, and they did not find their captainsufficiently ferocious and bloodthirsty when prizes came in their way. Nevertheless, through the influence of utter recklessness, contemptuousdisregard of death, and an indomitable will, backed by wonderfulcapacity and aptitude in the use of fist, sword, and pistol, he had upto this time held them in complete subjection. 

In his heart Rosco had resolved to quit his comrades at the firstfavourable opportunity, and, with this intent had been making for one ofthe most out-of-the-way islands in the Pacific--there to go and liveamong the natives, and never more to see the faces of civilised men--against whom he had sinned so grievously. His intentions were hastenedby the fact that a British man-of-war on the Vancouver station, hearingof his exploits, had resolved to search for him. And this cruiser didin fact come across his track and gave chase; but being a poor sailer, was left behind just before the pirate had reached Ratinga, where, as wehave seen, she put in for water. 

The discovery there made, as he supposed, that Antonio Zeppa hadrecovered his reason and returned home, not only amazed and puzzledRosco, but disconcerted part of his plan, which was to find Zeppa, whoseimage had never ceased to trouble his conscience, and, if possible, convey him to the neighbourhood of some port whence he could easilyreturn to Ratinga. It now struck him that, since Zeppa was no longer onSugar-loaf Island, that spot would be as favourable a one as could befound for his purpose, being far removed from the usual tracks ofcommerce. He would go there, take to the mountains as Zeppa had donebefore him, leave his dissatisfied comrades to follow their own devices, and, crossing over to the other side of the island, ingratiate himselfas well as he could with the natives, grow beard and moustache, which hehad hitherto shaved, and pass himself off as a shipwrecked sailor, should any vessel or cruiser touch there. 

"And shipwrecked I am, body, soul, and spirit, " he muttered, bitterly, as he sat in his cabin, brooding over the past and future. 

Leaving him there, and thus, we will return to Ratinga, the peacefulinhabitants of which were destined at this time to be tickled withseveral little shocks of more or less agreeable surprise. 

One of these shocks was the sudden disappearance of Zariffa, the nativemissionary's brown baby. It was an insignificant event in itself, andis only mentioned because of its having led indirectly to events ofgreater importance. 

Zariffa had, by that time, passed out of the condition ofbrown-babyhood. She had, to her own intense delight, been promoted tothe condition of a decently-clad little savage. In addition to thescuttle bonnet which was not quite so tremulous as that of her mother, she now sported a blue flannel petticoat. This was deemed sufficientfor her, the climate being warm. 

Zariffa was still, however, too young to take care of herself. Great, therefore, was Betsy Waroonga's alarm when she missed her one day fromher little bed where she should have been sleeping. 

"Ebony!" cried Betsy, turning sharply round and glaring, "Zariffa'sgone. "

"_Quite_ dead, " exclaimed the negro, aghast. 

"Not at all dead, " said Betsy; "but gone--gone hout of hers bed. "

"Dat no great misfortin', missis, " returned Ebony, with a sigh ofrelief. 

"It's little you knows, stoopid feller, " returned the nativemissionary's wife, while her coal-scuttle shook with imparted emotion;"Zariffa never dis'beyed me in hers life. She's lost. We must seek--seek quick!"

The sympathetic negro became again anxious, and looked hastily under thechairs and tables for the lost one, while her mother opened and searcheda corner cupboard that could not have held a child half her size. Thenthe pair became more and more distracted as each excited the other, andran to the various outhouses shouting, "Zariffa!" anxiously, entreatingly, despairing. 

They gathered natives as they ran, hither and thither, searching everynook and corner, and burst at last in an excited crowd into the presenceof Waroonga himself, who was in the act of detailing the history ofJoseph to a select class of scholars, varying from seven to seventeenyears of age. 

"Oh! massa, Zariffa's lost!" cried Ebony. 

Waroonga glanced quickly at his wife. The excessive agitation of herbonnet told its own tale. The missionary threw Joseph overboarddirectly, proclaimed a holiday, and rushed out of the school-house. 

"No use to go home, massa, " cried Ebony; "we's sarch eberywhere dar; nofind her. "

"Has you been to the piggery?" demanded the anxious father, who was wellaware of his child's fondness for "little squeakers. "

"Oh, yes; bin dar. I rousted out de ole sow for make sure Zariffa nohides behind her. "

At this juncture Orlando came up with a sack of cocoa-nuts on his back. Hearing what had occurred he took the matter in hand with his wontedenergy. 

"We must organise a regular search, " he said, throwing down the sack, "and go to work at once, for the day is far advanced, and we can dolittle or nothing after dark. "

So saying he collected all the able men of the village, divided theminto bands, gave them minute, though hurried, directions where they wereto go, and what signals they were to give in the event of the childbeing found; and then, heading one of the bands, he joined eagerly inthe search. But, before going, he advised Betsy Waroonga to keep hismother company, as women could not be of much use in such work. 

"No, " said Mrs Waroonga, with decision; "we will go home an' pray. "

"Right, that will be better, " said Orlando. "You go back with her, Ebony, and fetch my gun. I left it in Waroonga's house when I went infor a sack to hold the cocoa-nuts. It is behind the door. You'll findme searching in the palm-grove. Now, boys, away; we've no time tolose. "

Returning to her house with her sable attendant, poor Betsy rushed intoher private apartment threw herself on her knees and half across herlowly bed in an agony of alarm. 

She was startled and horrified by a sharp, though smothered cry, whilesome living creature heaved under the bed-clothes. Instantly she sweptthem off, and lo! there lay Zariffa safe and well, though somewhatconfused by her rude awaking and her mother's weight. 

"You's keep up heart, missis, " said the sympathetic Ebony, lookinghastily into the room in passing; "we's sartin sure to find--"

He stopped. Blazing amazement sat on his countenance for about sixmoments--a pause similar to that of an injured infant just preparing fora yell--then he exploded into a fit of laughter so uncontrollable thatit seemed as if a hurricane had been suddenly let loose in the room, insomuch that Betsy's remonstrances were quite unheard. 

"Oh! missis, " he exclaimed at last, wiping his eyes, "I's a-goin' tobust. "

"Yes, an' I'll help you to do it, " she replied impatiently, seizing anold shoe, and laying it on the negro's bare back with a crack like apistol-shot. 

Ebony strove to calm himself. 

"Go 'long, you noisy feller, an' tell Waroonga to stop the search. "

It was plain that Ebony had not sufficiently relieved his feelings, forhis broad chest heaved, and ominous sounds came out of his nose. 

"On'y tink, " said he, "dat you hoed down to say yous prayers on de berrytop ob de babby!"

The thought was too much for him. He exploded again, and, rushing fromthe house, ascended the hills, and filled the groves as he went withhilarious melody. 

But he did not find Orlando, who had completed his search of thepalm-grove and passed over the ridge that formed the summit of theisland in that part. It was by no means the highest part, but from itcould be seen a large bay which lay on the side of the island oppositeto the mission village. And here he beheld the cause of another of thelittle surprises with which we have said the people of Ratinga werevisited at that time. It was a stately man-of-war, with the Union Jackflying from her peak, and her sails backed so as to check her way. 

A boat was being lowered from her side, and Orlando with his partyhastened to the beach to meet it. 

The officer in command was evidently not aware that he had come to anisland where the peaceful influences of the gospel of Jesus prevailed, for, on landing, he drew up his men, who were all armed to receiveeither as friends or foes the party of natives who advanced towards him. The officer was not a little surprised to observe that the natives wereled by a white man, who halted them when within about three hundredyards off, and advanced alone and unarmed to the beach. 

"I am happy to welcome you and offer hospitality, " said Orlando, takingoff his cap. 

"Thanks, good sir, I accept your offer most gladly, " returned theofficer, holding out his hand; "all the more heartily that I hadexpected to meet with none but savages here. "

"We are Christians, thank God, " said Orlando. 

"Then this must be the island of Ratinga, of which we have heard so muchof late. "

"Even so. "

"But where, then, is your village, your church?" asked the officer, looking round. 

"It is on the other side of the island. If you will take your shipround there you will find good anchorage and fresh water, of which last, if I may judge from the casks in your boat you are in search. "

The officer at once acted on this advice, and Orlando accompanied him onboard to pilot the vessel round. 

On the way the captain--Fitzgerald--asked if any suspicious craft hadbeen seen lately, and, on hearing that a barque, flying British colours, had put in there only a day or two before, said that he had been sentout in chase of that barque, as she was commanded by a celebrated andrather eccentric pirate, named Rosco. 

"I know him well, " said Orlando quickly, "he was mate of a schoonerwhich called here between three and four years ago. It was commanded bya poor fellow named Daniel, who, I fear, was murdered by his crew. Alas! I have only too good reason to remember it. "

He then related the visit of the piratical-looking schooner to Ratinga;its departure with his father and himself on board; the mutiny, and allthe other circumstances connected with that memorable event. 

"And have you never heard of your father since then?" asked CaptainFitzgerald. 

"Never. I am almost forced to the conclusion that he must have beenmurdered by the mutineers, for if he had escaped them, he would surely, long ere now, have managed to find his way home. And yet I cannot helpfeeling that perhaps God may have spared his life, and may yet restorehim to us. "

"It is, perhaps, cruel to encourage hopes which may be doomed to bitterdisappointment, " returned the captain, regarding Orlando's sad face witha look of sympathy; "but it is by no means impossible that your fathermay be alive. Listen. I, too, know something of this affair, and willtell you all I know. Captain Daniel, of the schooner whose crewmutinied, was not murdered. This Rosco seems to have had, all throughhis career, a strong tendency to mercy. So much so that his men havethreatened his own life more than once. At the same time, he possessesgreat power over them, and has held them for many years under command. We have heard of him more than once from persons whom he has set free, after taking their vessels; among others from Captain Daniel, who turnedup in Vancouver's Island. It seems that after you were thrown overboardand supposed to be drowned, your poor father went--went--that is to say, his mind was unhinged, owing, no doubt, to the combined effect of yoursupposed murder and the two terrible blows by which he was felled duringthe mutiny. "

"My father--mad!" exclaimed Orlando, in a low, horrified tone, claspinghis hands, and gazing into Captain Fitzgerald's face. 

"Nay, I did not say mad. It was a great shock, you know, and quitesufficient to account for temporary derangement. Then Rosco sailed awayto a distant island, where he put your father ashore, and left him. "

"What island--did you hear its name?" asked Orlando, quickly. 

"It is an almost unknown island, not marked or named in any chart; butit had been seen by one of the mutineers on one of his early voyages, and named Sugar-loaf Island, from its shape. Well, after leaving theisland Rosco attacked, and easily captured, a large merchantman. Finding it both good and new, he transhipped all that was worthretaining, including arms and guns, into this barque, and took command;then he assembled his men, asked who were willing to follow him, putthose who were unwilling into the old schooner with Captain Daniel attheir head, and left them to sail where they pleased. They landed, as Ihave said, at Vancouver's Island. The pirate Rosco, and his barque, the`Flame, ' have become notorious since then, both for daring andeccentricity, and I have been ordered to get hold of them, if possible. Now, I mean to go to Sugar-loaf Island, because, from various things Ihave heard of this scoundrel, I think it not unlikely that he will gothere. "

"And you will let me go with you?" suddenly exclaimed Orlando, in avoice of earnest entreaty. 

"I will, my poor fellow, " returned the captain; "but don't be toosanguine; and let me advise you to say nothing of all this to yourmother. "

"You are right. She must not know--at least not now. It will be thefirst time in my life I have had a secret from my mother; but she mustnot know till--till we return. "

That night there was great rejoicing in Ratinga, because of therecovery, if we may so call it, of Zariffa, and the visit of the Britishman-of-war. 

In the midst of the rejoicings a huge, lustrous pair of black eyes gazedearnestly into Orlando's face, and an enormously thick pair of red lipssaid, "I go too, massa--eh?"

"Well, you may, Ebony, if the captain will let you. He has alreadyagreed to take the missionary and the chiefs Tomeo and Buttchee; but, mind, not a whisper of our secret hope to any one. "

Thus, with the approval of Madame Zeppa and Betsy Waroonga, these fiverepresentatives of Ratinga embarked on board the British man-of-war, andleft the island. 

CHAPTER FIVE. 

We left the poor madman, Antonio Zeppa, wandering aimlessly up into themountains of Sugar-loaf Island. Whether it was the loss of his belovedOrley alone that had turned his brain, or that loss coupled with theinjury to his head, we cannot tell, but certain it is that the outwardand visible violence of his great sorrow seemed to depart from him afterhe had entered the rugged defiles of the mountain range. His mentalmalady appeared to take the form of simple indifference and inactivity. Sometimes he muttered to himself as he went slowly and wearily along, but generally he was silent with his chin sunk upon his breast as hegazed upon the ground with lack-lustre eyes. 

At other times he started and looked around him with a sharp, inquiring, almost timid, glance; but the gleam of memory--if such it was--soonpassed away, and his handsome face resumed the gentle, almost childish, look which had settled down on it. But never again did he give vent tothe heart-broken cries and wails which had marked the first stage of hisderangement. 

The mutterings to which we have referred were seldom coherent; but thedisjointed utterances sufficed to indicate the natural character of theman. As the ruling passion is said to become dominant in death, so, inthis death of reason which appeared to have passed upon Zeppa, love ofhis wife and child and the natives of Ratinga, as well as profoundreverence and love to his God, became conspicuous in the brokensentences that occasionally dropped from his lips. 

At first he had been like some grand instrument thrown wildly out oftune and swept by a reckless hand. Now he resembled the same instrumentwith the framework shattered, the strings hanging loose, and the musicof discord as well as harmony gone for ever. 

Oh it was sad, inexpressibly sad, to see the grand and good man--theimage of himself, yet not himself, with bowed head and bent form, thevery personification of humility--wandering forth on that lonely islandof the southern seas!

After quitting the shore he continued slowly to ascend the mountainuntil he gained the summit. Here, seating himself on a rock, he liftedhis eyes and looked slowly around him. 

It was a glorious sight that met his unintelligent gaze. On the sidewhich he had ascended, the mountain sloped abruptly into the sea, yetits precipices were not forbidding or gloomy, for they were clothed withthe luxuriant and lovely vegetation of those favoured regions. 

The rocks were fringed with grasses and wild flowers; the cliffs weresoftened by palmated leaves and gorgeous shrubs. Wild fruits inabundance grew on every side; in short, the land presented theappearance of a terrestrial paradise. 

On the other side of the range similar, but softer, scenery rolled awayfor several miles in easy slopes, until it terminated in a plain, thefarther end of which was bounded by the white sands of the shore. 

Around all lay the great sea, like a transparent blue shield, on whichthe sun glinted in myriad ripples of burnished gold. Everywhere God'swork was glorious, but God's image in man was not there, for poor Zeppalooked upon it all with total indifference. 

The schooner was still visible from that lofty outlook, like a snowflakeon the sea; but Zeppa saw it, or regarded it, not. On the shore of theisland furthest from the mountain, the clustering huts of a nativevillage could be seen; but Zeppa looked at it without a gleam ofinterest, and passed it over as if it were a group of ant-hills. 

Hunger, however, soon claimed attention. After remaining motionless formore than an hour, he arose and plucked some fruit from a neighbouringtree. 

"God is good--has always been good to me and mine, " he murmured, as heplaced the fruit on the grass and sat down beside it. 

Then, clasping his hands and closing his eyes, he asked a blessing onhis food in the same words and tone which he had been wont to use whenat home. 

After his hunger was appeased, he again wandered about apparentlywithout aim; but as night began to descend, he sought and found aslightly hollowed part of a cliff with an overhanging ledge. 

It was scarcely deep enough to be styled a cave, but appeared to be asufficient shelter in the maniac's eyes, for he busied himself ingathering ferns and dried grass, until he had made himself a comfortablecouch at the inner end of it. 

Before lying down he knelt, clasped his hands, and poured out his soulin fervent prayer. 

His words were now no longer incoherent and the burthen of his petitionwas--a blessing on the dear ones at home, and forgiveness of all hissins through Jesus Christ. It seemed evident judging by his words, thathe had forgotten the recent past, and imagined that Orlando was stillalive. 

Then he lay down and fell asleep. 

Thus days and weeks and months rolled on, and still the madman wanderedaimlessly among the mountain peaks. 

The savages at the other end of the island never molested him, for, having no occasion to clamber up these rocky heights, they did notbecome aware of his existence until a considerable time had elapsed. 

His discovery at last was the result of a crime. 

One of the savages committed a theft in the native village, and fled forrefuge to the mountains. Wapoota, being a funny fellow, was a favouritewith his chief Ongoloo, and occupied a position somewhat analogous tothe court jester of old. Moreover, he was often consulted in seriousmatters by his chief--in short, was a sort of humorous prime minister. 

But he could not resist the tendency to steal, and one day pilferedsomething or other from Ongoloo, who finally lost patience with him, forhe was an old offender. 

Ongoloo, though neither a warlike nor ferocious fellow, vowed to cut outthe heart and liver of Wapoota, and expose them to public gaze. 

Disliking publicity after this fashion, the thief fled, purposing toabide in the mountains until his chief's wrath should have evaporated. 

Rambling one day in his mountain refuge, the dishonest savage turned ajutting point of rock, and suddenly stood face to face with Zeppa. Hisjaw dropped, his eyes glared, his knees smote together, and lemon-yellowtook the place of brown-ochre on his cheeks. It was an awkward place ofmeeting, for the path, if we may so style it, was a mere ledge, with aperpendicular cliff on one side, a precipice on the other. 

And well might the savage by overcome with fear, on such a spot withsuch a man before him, for, in addition to his commanding stature, Zeppahad now the wild appearance resulting from long untrimmed locks and ashaggy beard. 

Both locks and beard had also changed from black to iron-grey duringthese months of lonely wandering. His dress, too, had become muchdisordered and ragged, so that altogether his appearance and fierceaspect were eminently fitted to strike terror to the heart of a morecourageous man than Wapoota, who happened to be rather mild indisposition. 

After the first stare of astonishment he sank on his knees and held uphis hands as if supplicating mercy. But he had nothing to fear from themaniac. 

"My poor fellow, " said Zeppa, in English, laying his hand on thenative's head and patting it, "do not fear. I will not harm you. "

Of course Wapoota did not understand the words but he fully appreciatedthe action, and the lemon-yellow began to fade while the brown-ochrereturned. 

Without uttering another word, Zeppa took Wapoota by the hand and ledhim to his cave, where he set before him such fruits as remained overfrom his last meal, and then, sitting down, gazed abstractedly on theground. Wapoota ate from fear of offending his host, rather thanhunger. 

When he had finished, Zeppa rose, pointed to his couch at the inner partof the cave, nodded to him with a kindly smile, and left him. 

At first the savage seemed disposed to make off when Zeppa's back wasturned, but when he saw him slowly ascend the hill with his head boweddown he changed his mind, made some significant grimaces--which we willnot attempt to explain--and lay down to sleep. 

On his return, Wapoota tried to enter into conversation with his hostbut Zeppa only smiled, patted him gently on the head and shoulder, andpaid no further attention to him. The savage was somewhat overawed bysuch treatment. 

Observing his host more closely, it soon began to dawn upon him that hewas in the power of a madman, and some tinges of the lemon-yellowreappeared; but when he perceived that Zeppa was not merely a harmlessbut an exceedingly gentle madman, his confidence and the brown-ochrereasserted themselves. 

Thus, for several days, the madman and the savage dwelt amicablytogether, and slept side by side during the night; but Zeppa made itvery apparent that he did not wish for his visitor's society during theday-time, and the visitor had the sense to let him wander forth alone. 

Wapoota was mistaken when he calculated on the cooling of Ongoloo'swrath. That angry chief, bent on the fulfilment of his anatomical vow, set forth with a small party of picked men to explore the Sugar-loaf inquest of the runaway. He found him one day gathering fruits for Zeppa'ssupper--for Wapoota had already become a sort of attached Friday to thisunfortunate Crusoe. 

On beholding his countrymen, the thief's visage underwent a series ofremarkable changes, for he knew that escape was impossible, and theexpression of his chief's face forbade him to hope for mercy. 

"I have found you, mine enemy, " growled Ongoloo--of course in the nativetongue. 

"Mercy!" exclaimed Wapoota, in a piteous tone. "Mercy no longer dwellsin my breast, " returned the chief. 

In proof of the truth of this assertion he ordered his men to seize andbind Wapoota, and proceed at once with the execution of his cruelpurpose. 

The unfortunate wretch, unable to face the appalling prospect gave ventto a series of terrible shrieks, and struggled fiercely while they boundhim. But in vain would he have struggled if his cries for mercy had notreached other ears than those of his countrymen. 

Not far from the spot where the thief had been captured, Zeppa chancedto be sitting, idly toying with the branch of a tree which he hadfashioned into a rude staff wherewith to climb the mountain more easily. 

When the first shriek ran among the cliffs, it seemed to startle themaniac out of the depressing lethargy under which he had laboured solong. He sprang up and listened, with dilated eyes and partly openmouth. 

Again and again the shrieks rang out, and were echoed from cliff tocliff. 

As a tigress bounds to the rescue of her young, so sprang Zeppa down thehillside in the direction of the cries. He came suddenly to the edge ofa cliff which overlooked the scene, and beheld a savage just about toplunge a knife into Wapoota's breast. 

Zeppa gave vent to a tremendous roar, which terminated in a wild laugh. Then he wrenched a mass of rock from the cliffs and hurled it down. 

The height was greater than any sane man would have ventured to leapeven to save his life; but the maniac gave no time to thought. 

He followed the mass of rock with another wild laugh, and next momentstood in the midst of the savage group. 

These men were no cowards. They were Ongoloo's picked warriors, andwould have scorned to fly before a single foe, however large or fierce. 

But when they saw plainly that Zeppa was a white man and a maniac, theyturned, with one consent, and fled as if a visitant from the netherrealms had assailed them. 

Zeppa did not follow. All his sudden wrath vanished with the enemy. Heturned calmly to the prostrate man, cut his bonds, and set him free. Then, without saying a word, he patted him on the shoulder, and wanderedlistlessly away with his head dropped as of old. 

You may be sure that Wapoota did not hesitate to make good use of hisfreedom. He fled on the wings--or legs--of fear to the mostinaccessible recesses of the mountains, from which he did not emergetill night had enshrouded land and sea. Then he crept stealthily backto Zeppa's cave, and laid himself quietly down beside his friend. 

The inherent tendency of Zeppa's nature was towards peace and goodwill. Even in his madness and misery his spirit trickled, if it did not run, in the customary direction. His dethroned reason began, occasionally, to make fitful efforts after some plan which it sought to evolve. Butbefore the plan could be arranged, much less carried out, the dull senseof a leaden grief overwhelmed it again, and he relapsed into the oldcondition of quiet apathy. 

Chance, however, brought about that which the enfeebled intellect couldnot compass. 

One day--whether inadvertently or not we cannot tell--Zeppa wandereddown in the direction of the native settlement. That same day Ongoloowandered towards the mountain, and the two men suddenly met so close toeach other that there was no possibility of escape to either. 

But, sooth to say, there was no thought of escape in the breast ofeither. Ongoloo, being a brave savage, was ashamed of having given wayto panic at his first meeting with the madman. Besides, he carried hishuge war-club, while his opponent was absolutely unarmed--havingforgotten to take his usual staff with him that day. 

As for Zeppa, he had never at any time feared the face of man, and, inhis then condition, would have faced man or fiend with equalindifference. But the sight of the savage chief seemed to recallsomething to his mind. He stood with his arms crossed, and anexpression of perplexity on his countenance, while Ongoloo assumed anattitude of defence. 

Suddenly a beaming smile overspread Zeppa's face. We have already saidthat his smile had fascination in it. The effect on the savage was toparalyse him for the moment. Zeppa advanced, took Ongoloo's facebetween both hands, and, placing his nose against that of the chief, gently rubbed it. 

For the benefit of the ignorant, we may explain that this is the usualsalutation of friendship among some of the South Sea Islanders. 

Ongoloo returned the rub, and dropped his club. He was obviously gladof this peaceful termination to the rencontre. 

Then, for the first time, it occurred to Zeppa to use the language ofRatinga. The chief evidently understood it. 

"God is love, " said Zeppa solemnly, pointing upward with his finger. "God forgives. You will forgive, and so be like God. "

The chief was completely overawed by Zeppa's grandeur and gentleness. He had never before seen the two qualities combined. 

Zeppa took him by the hand, as he had previously taken Wapoota, and ledhim up into the mountains. The chief submitted meekly, as if he thoughta being from the better world were guiding him. On reaching the cavethey found Wapoota arranging the supper-table--if we may so express it--for he had been in the habit of doing this for some time past, aboutsunset, at which time his protector had invariably returned home--alas!it was a poor home!

To say that Wapoota was transfixed, or petrified, on beholding Ongoloo, would not convey the full idea of his condition. It is useless to saythat he glared; that his knees smote, or that lemon-yellow supplantedbrown-ochre on his visage. Words can do much, but they cannot describethe state of that savage on that occasion. The reader's imagination ismuch more likely to do justice to the situation. To that we leave it. 

But who, or what language, shall describe the state of mind into whichboth Ongoloo and Wapoota were thrown when Zeppa, having brought themclose to each other, grasped them firmly by their necks and rubbed theirnoses forcibly together. There was no resisting the smile with whichthis was dune. The chief and the thief first glanced at each other, then at their captor, and then they laughed--absolutely roared--afterwhich they rubbed noses of their own accord, and "made it up. "

We may remark, in passing, that Ongoloo was not sorry for thereconciliation, because Wapoota had become necessary to him both incouncil and during relaxation, and of late he had come to feellow-spirited for want of his humourist. 

But both of them were much concerned to observe that after thisreconciliation, the reconciler relapsed into his pensive mood andrefused to be interested in anything. 

They tried in vain to rouse him from his strange apathy--which neitherof them could at all understand. Next day Ongoloo took occasion to givehim the slip, and returned to his village. 

Zeppa cared nothing for that. He did not even ask Wapoota what hadbecome of him. 

At this time a new idea occurred to Wapoota, who had been ordered by hischief to induce Zeppa to visit the native village. It struck him thatas he had been led, so he might lead. Therefore one morning he waiteduntil Zeppa had finished breakfast, and when he rose, as was his wont, to go off for the day, Wapoota took him gently by the hand and led himforth. To his surprise--and comfort, for he had had strong misgivings--Zeppa submitted. He did not seem to think that the act was peculiar. 

Wapoota led him quietly and slowly down the mountain side, and so, bydegrees, right into the native village, where Ongoloo was, of course, prepared to meet and welcome him. 

He was received by the head men of the tribe with deep respect andconducted to a tent which had been prepared for him, where Wapoota, whohad constituted himself his servant--or lieutenant--made him comfortablefor the night. 

Zeppa at first expressed some surprise at all the fuss that was maderegarding him, but soon ceased to trouble himself about the matter, andgradually relapsed into his old condition. He was content to remainwith the natives, though he did not cease his lonely wanderings amongthe hills, absenting himself for days at a time, but always returning, sooner or later, to the tent that had been provided for him in thevillage. 

Now, in Sugar-loaf Island, there was a tribe that had, for years past, been at war with the tribe into whose hands Zeppa had thus fallen, and, not long after the events just narrated, it chanced that the Raturatribe, as it was named, resolved to have another brush with their oldenemies, the subjects of Ongoloo. What they did, and how they did it, shall be seen in another chapter. 

CHAPTER SIX. 

After Zeppa had remained a short time in his new quarters, he began totake an interest in the children of his savage friends. At first themothers of the village were alarmed when they saw their little ones inhis strong arms, playing with his beard, which had by that time grownlong and shaggy, as well as grey like his curly locks; but soonperceiving that the children had nothing to fear from the strange whiteman, they gave themselves no further concern on the subject. 

If Zeppa had been in his right mind when the savages first found him, itis probable that they would have hunted him down and slain him withoutremorse--for it is well known that many of the South Sea Islandersregard shipwrecked persons as victims who have no claim on theirhospitality, but are a sort of windfall to be killed and devoured. Their treatment of Zeppa, therefore, must have been owing to somefeeling of respect or awe, inspired by his obvious insanity, coupled, nodoubt, with his commanding size and presence as well as his singularconduct on the occasion of their first meeting. 

Whatever the reason, it is certain that the natives amongst whom thepoor madman's lot had thus been cast, treated him in an exceptionalmanner, and with an amount of respect that almost amounted to reverence. At first Ongoloo made a slight attempt to ascertain where his guest hadcome from, and what was his previous history, but as Zeppa always metsuch inquiries with one of his sweetest smiles, and with no verbal replywhatever, the chief felt unusually perplexed, dropped the subject, andbegan to regard the madman as a species of demigod. Of course no oneelse dared to question him, so that ever afterwards he remained in theeyes of his entertainers as a "Great Mystery. "

By degrees Zeppa became intimately acquainted with the little boys andgirls of the village, and took much pleasure in watching them at play. They soon found out that he was fond of them, and might have becomerather troublesome in their attentions to him, if he had been a busyman, but as he had nothing whatever to do except follow his owninclinations, and as his inclinations led him to sympathise withchildhood, he was never ruffled by their familiarities or by their wilddoings around his tent. He even suffered a few of the very smallest ofthe brown troop to take liberties with him, and pull his beard. 

One brown mite in particular--a female baby of the smallest conceivabledimensions, and the wildest possible spirit--became an immense favouritewith him. Her name was Lippy, or some sound which that combination ofletters produces. 

Lippy's mother, a large-eyed, good-looking young woman, withinsufficient clothing--at least in the estimate of a Ratingaite--wastransfixed the first time she saw her little one practise herfamiliarities on their demigod. 

Zeppa was lying on his back at the time, in front of his hut, when Lippyprowled cautiously towards him, like a very small and sly kitten aboutto pounce on a very huge dog. She sprang, just as her mother caughtsight of her, and was on his broad chest in a moment. The mother was, as we have said, transfixed with alarm. The human kitten seized Zeppaby the beard and laughed immoderately. Zeppa replied with a gentlesmile--he never laughed out now--and remained quite still. 

Having finished her laugh, Lippy drew herself forward until she wasclose to her human dog's chin. At this point her mother would haverushed to the rescue, but she was still paralysed! Having reached thechin Lippy became more audacious, stretched forth one of her littlehands, and seized Zeppa's nose. Still he did not move, but when thelittle brown kitten proceeded to thrust a thumb into one of his eyes, heroused himself, seized the child in his powerful hands, and raised herhigh above his head; then, lowering her until her little mouth waswithin reach, he kissed her. 

This sufficed to relieve the mother's fears, so she retired quietly fromthe scene. 

She was not so easily quieted, however, some weeks later, when shebeheld Zeppa, after amusing himself one day with Lippy for half an hour, start up, place her on his shoulder, and stalk off towards themountains. He absented himself for three days on that occasion. Lippy's mother at first became anxious, then terrified, then desperate. She roused Ongoloo to such a pitch that he at last called a council ofwar. Some of the head men were for immediate pursuit of the madman;others were of opinion that the little brat was not worth so muchtrouble; a few wretches even expressed the opinion that they were wellrid of her--there being already too many female babies in the community!

While the conflict of opinions was at its fiercest, Zeppa stalked intothe midst of them with Lippy on his shoulder, looked round with abenignant expression of countenance, delivered the child to her mother, and went off to his hut without uttering a word. The councilimmediately dissolved itself and retired humiliated. 

It was during one of Zeppa's occasional absences that the Ratura tribeof natives, as before mentioned, decided to have another brush with theMountain-men, as they styled their foes. 

We are not sure that the word used in the Ratura language was the exactcounterpart of the words "brush" and "scrimmage" in ours, but it meantthe same thing, namely, the cutting of a number of throats, or thebattering in of a number of human skulls unnecessarily. 

Of course there was a _casus belli_. There always is among savage aswell as civilised nations, and it is a curious coincidence that thereasons given for the necessity for war are about as comprehensibleamong the civilised as the savage. Of course among civilised nationsthese reasons for war are said to be always good. Christians, you know, could not kill each other without _good_ reasons; but is it not strangethat among educated people, the reasons given for going to war are oftenvery much the reverse of clear?

The origin of the war which was about to be revived, besides beinginvolved in the mists of antiquity, was somewhat shrouded in the cloudsof confusion. Cleared of these clouds, and delivered from those mists, it would have been obviously a just--nay, even a holy war--so bothparties said, for they both wanted to fight. Unfortunately no livingman could clear away the clouds or mists; nevertheless, as they all sawplainly the exceeding righteousness of the war, they could not inhonour, in justice, or in common sense, do otherwise than go at it. 

At some remote period of antiquity--probably soon after the dispersionat Babel--it was said that the Mountain-men had said to the Raturans, that it had been reported to them that a rumour had gone abroad thatthey, the men of Ratura, were casting covetous eyes on the summit oftheir mountain. The Raturans replied that it had never entered intotheir heads either to covet or to look at the summit of their mountain, but that, if they had any doubts on the subject, they might send over adeputation to meet a Ratura deputation, and hold a palaver to clear thematter up. 

The deputations were sent. They met. They palavered for abouthalf-an-hour with an air of sententious sincerity, then the leadingchief of the mountaineer deputation cracked the crown of the leadingchief of the Raturan deputation, and the two deputations spent theremainder of that day in fighting. Reinforcements came up on bothsides. The skirmish became a pitched battle. Blood was shed lavishly, heads were broken beyond repair, and women, coming to the help of themen with the baskets of stones, were slain in considerable numbers, aswell as little children who had an inconvenient but not uncommon habitof getting in the way of the combatants. At last the Raturans weredriven into the impregnable swamps that bordered part of their country;their villages and crops were burned, and those of their women andchildren who had not escaped to the swamps were carried into slavery, while the aged of both sexes were slaughtered in cold blood. 

It was a complete victory. We are inclined to think that theMountain-men called it a "glorious" victory. Judging from the world'shistory they probably did, and the mountain women ever afterwards werewont to tell their little ones of the prowess of their forefathers--ofthe skulls battered in and other deeds of heroism done--in that just andreasonable war!

As centuries rolled on, the old story came to be repeated again, andover again, with slight variations to suit the varying ages. Inparticular it came to be well understood, and asserted, that thatunconquerable desire of the Raturans to take possession of themountain-top was growing apace and had to be jealously watched andcurbed. 

In one of the centuries--we are not sure which--the Raturan savages madesome advances into their swampy grounds and began to improve them. Thisregion lay very remote from the Mountain-men's villages, but, as itapproached the mountain base in a round-about manner, and as themountain-tops could be distinctly seen from the region, althoughwell-nigh impassable swamps still lay between the reclaimed lands andthe mountain base, these advances were regarded as another _casusbelli_, and another war was waged, with practically the same results--damage to everybody concerned, and good to no one. 

Thus was the game kept up until the chief Ongoloo began to strut hislittle hour upon the stage of time. 

There are always men, savage as well as civilised, in every region andage, who march in advance of their fellows, either because ofintellectual capacity or moral rectitude or both. Ongoloo was one ofthese. He did not believe in "war at any price. " He thought itprobable that God lived in a state of peace, and argued that what wasbest for the Creator must naturally be best for the creature. 

He therefore tried to introduce a peace-policy into Sugar-loaf Island. His efforts were not successful. The war-party was too strong for him. At last he felt constrained to give in to the force of public opinionand agreed to hold an unarmed palaver with the men of Ratura. Thewar-at-any-price party would have preferred an armed palaver, but theywere overruled. 

The Raturans chanced at this time to be in somewhat depressedcircumstances, owing to a sickness which had carried off many of theirbest warriors and left their lands partly waste, so that their finances, if we may so express it were in a bad condition. 

"Now is our chance--now or never, " thought the war-party, and pushedmatters to extremity. 

On the day appointed for the palaver, one of the most pugnacious of theMountain-men got leave to open the deliberations. 

"You're a low-minded, sneaking son of an ignorant father, " he said tothe spokesman of the Raturans. 

"You're another, " retorted his foe. 

Having disposed of these preliminary compliments, the speakers paused, glared, and breathed hard. 

Of course we give the nearest equivalent in English that we can find forthe vernacular used. 

"You and your greedy forefathers, " resumed the Mountain-man, "havealways kept your false eyes on our mountain-top, and you are looking atit still. "

"That's a lie, " returned the man of Ratura with savage simplicity. 

Had they been armed, it is probable that the palaver would have closedabruptly at this point. 

Seeing that the relations between the parties were "strained" almost tothe breaking-point, one of the less warlike among the Ratura chiefscaught his own spokesman by the nape of the neck, and hurled him backamong his comrades. 

"We have _not_, O valiant men of the Mountain, " he said, in a gentletone, "looked upon your hill-tops with desire. We only wish to improveour swamps, increase our sweet-potato grounds, and live at peace. "

"That is not true, " retorted the fiery Mountain-man, "and we must have apromise from you that you will let the swamps alone, and not advance onestep nearer to the top of our mountain. "

"But the swamps are not yours, " objected the other. 

"No matter--they are not yours. They are neutral ground, and must notbe touched. "

"Well, we will not touch them, " said the peaceful Raturan. 

This reply disconcerted the fiery mountaineer, for he was anxious tofight. 

"But that is not enough, " he resumed, as a bright idea struck him, "youmust promise not even to _look_ at our mountain. "

The man of Ratura reflecting how ill able his tribe was to go to warjust then, agreed not even to _look_ at the mountain!

"More than that" resumed the mountaineer, "you must not even wink atit. "

"We will not even wink at it, " replied his foe. "Still further, "continued the warlike mountaineer in sheer desperation, "you must noteven _think_ of it. "

"We will not _think_ of it" answered the accommodating man of Ratura. 

"Bah! you may go--you peace-loving cowards, " said the disappointedmountaineer, turning on his heel in bitter disappointment. 

"Yes, you may go--in peace!" said Ongoloo with sententious gravity, waving his band grandly to the retiring men of Ratura, and walking offwith an air of profound solemnity, though he could not help laughing--inhis arm, somewhere, as he had not a sleeve to do it in. 

But the Raturans did not go in peace. They went away with bitteranimosity in their hearts, and some of them resolved to have a brushwith their old foes, come what might. 

Savages do not, as a rule, go through the formality of declaring war bywithdrawing ambassadors. They are much more prone to begin war withthat deceptive act styled "a surprise. "

Smarting under the taunts of their foes, the Raturans resolved to makean attack on the enemy's village that very night, but Ongoloo was morethan a match for them. Suspecting their intentions, he stalked themwhen the shades of evening fell, heard all their plans while concealedamong the long grass, and then, hastening home, collected his warriors. 

It chanced that Zeppa had returned from one of his rambles at the timeand was lying in his hut. 

"Will you come out with us and fight?" demanded Ongoloo, enteringabruptly. 

The mention of fighting seemed to stir some chord which jarred inZeppa's mind, for he shook his head and frowned. It is possible that, if the savage had explained how matters stood, the poor madman mighthave consented, but the chief had not the time, perhaps not the will, for that. Turning quickly round, therefore, he went off as abruptly ashe had entered. 

Zeppa cared nothing for that. Indeed he soon forgot the circumstance, and, feeling tired, lay down to sleep. 

Meanwhile Ongoloo marched away with a body of picked men to stationhimself in a narrow pass through which he knew that the invading foewould have to enter. He was hugely disgusted to be thus compelled tofight, after he had congratulated himself on having brought the recentpalaver to so peaceful an issue. He resolved, however, only to give hisenemies a serious fright, for he knew full well that if blood shouldflow, the old war-spirit would return, and the ancient suspicion andhatred be revived and intensified. Arranging his plans therefore, withthis end in view, he resolved to take that peaceful, though thieving, humorist Wapoota, into his secret councils. 

Summoning him, after the ambush had been properly arranged and the menplaced, he said, --"Come here, you villain. "

Wapoota knew that Ongoloo was not displeased with him by the nature ofhis address. He therefore followed, without anxiety, to a retired spotamong the bush-covered rocks. 

"You can screech, Wapoota?"

"Yes, chief, " answered the ex-thief in some surprise, "I can screechlike a parrot the size of a whale. "

"That will do. And you love peace, like me, Wapoota, and hatebloodshed, though you love thieving. "

"True, chief, " returned the other, modestly. 

"Well then, listen--and if you tell any one what I say to you, I willsqueeze the eyes out of your head, punch the teeth from your jaws, andextract the oil from your backbone. "

Wapoota thought that this was pretty strong for a man who had justdeclared his hatred of bloodshed, but he said nothing. 

"You know the rock, something in shape like your own nose, at the footof this pass?" said Ongoloo. 

"I know it, chief. "

"Well, go there; hide yourself, and get ready for a screech. When yousee the Ratura dogs come in sight, give it out--once--only once, --and ifyou don't screech well, I'll teach you how to do it better afterwards. Wait then till you hear and see me and my men come rushing down thetrack, and _then_ screech a second time. Only once, mind! but let it belong and strong. You understand? Now--away!"

Like a bolt from a crossbow Wapoota sped. He had not been in hiding twominutes when the Ratura party came stealthily towards the rock beforementioned. Wapoota gathered himself up for a supreme effort. The headof the enemy's column appeared in view--then there burst, as if from thebosom of silent night, a yell such as no earthly parrot ever uttered orwhale conceived. The very blood in the veins of all stood still. Theirlimbs refused to move. Away over the rolling plain went the horridsound till it gained the mountain where, after being buffeted from cliffto crag, it finally died out far up among the rocky heights. 

"A device of the Ratura dogs to frighten us, " growled Ongoloo to thosenearest him. "Come, follow me, and remember, not a sound till I shout. "

The whole party sprang up and followed their chief at full gallop downthe pass. The still petrified Raturans heard the sound of rushing feet. When Wapoota saw the dark forms of his comrades appear, he filled hischest and opened his mouth, and the awful skirl arose once again, as ifto pollute the night-air. Then Ongoloo roared. With mingled surpriseand ferocity his men took up the strain, as they rushed towards the nowdimly visible foe. 

Savage nerves could stand no more. The Raturans turned and fled as oneman. They descended the pass as they had never before descended it;they coursed over the plains like grey-hounds; they passed through theirown villages like a whirlwind; drew most of the inhabitants after themlike the living tail of a mad comet, and only stopped when they fellexhausted on the damp ground in the remotest depths of their own dismalswamps. 

CHAPTER SEVEN. 

Strange to say, the anger of the Raturans was not assuaged by the rebuffwhich they received at that time. They took counsel again, and resolvedto wait till the suspicions of the Mountain-men had been allayed, andthen attack them when off their guard. 

Meanwhile Zeppa, who did not at all concern himself with these matters, took it into his head one day that he would teach his little favourite, Lippy, to sing. Being a religious man he naturally selected hymns asthe foundation of his teaching. At first he found it rather up-hillwork, for Lippy happened to be gifted with a strong sense of theludicrous, so that when he took her on his knee--the day on which theidea occurred to him--opened his mouth, and gave forth the first notesof a hymn in a fine sonorous bass voice, the child gazed at him for afew moments in open-eyed wonder, and then burst into an uncontrollablefit of open-mouthed laughter. 

Poor Zeppa! till that day, since his mental break-down, the idea ofsinging had never once occurred to him, and this reception of his firstattempt to teach disconcerted him. He stopped abruptly and gazed at thechild with a perplexed expression. This gaze was evidently regarded byLippy as an additional touch of humour, for she went off into renewedexplosions of delight and the lesson had to be given up for that time. Zeppa was gifted, however, with patient perseverance in a remarkabledegree. He renewed his efforts, but changed his plan. From that timeforward he took to humming hymns in a low, sweet voice, as if for hisown amusement. In a short time he had the satisfaction of hearing Lippyattempt, of her own accord, to sing one of the hymns that had taken herfancy. She went wrong in one or two notes, however, which gave Zeppathe opportunity of putting her right. He took her on his knee, and toldher, in her own tongue, to try it again. 

"Listen, this is the way, " he said, opening his mouth to give anexample; but the first note had scarcely begun to sound when Lippythrust her brown fist into his mouth, and told him to stop. She wouldsing it herself!

Accordingly, she began in a sweet, tiny little voice, and her teachergazed at her with intense pleasure depicted on his handsome face untilshe reached the note where she had formerly gone wrong. 

"No--not so; sing thus, " he said, giving the right notes. 

The pupil took it up at once, and thus the singing lessons were fairlybegun. 

But the matter did not rest here, for Lippy, proud of her newacquirement soon began to exhibit her powers to her little companions, and ere long a few of the smallest of these ventured to creep intoZeppa's hut while the daily lesson was going on. Gradually they grewbolder, and joined in the exercise. Zeppa took pleasure in helpingthem, and at last permitted as many as could crowd into his hut to doso. Those who could not get inside sat on the ground outside, and, asthe hut was open in front, the gathering soon increased. Thus, insensibly, without a well-defined intention or effort on the part ofany one, the praise of God and the sweet name of Jesus ascended toheaven from that heathen village. 

The assembling of these children for their lesson brought powerfully toZeppa's mind, one day, the meetings of the Ratinga people for worship, and the appropriateness of beginning with prayer occurred to him. Accordingly, that morning, just as he was about to commence the hymns, he clasped his hands, raised his eyes, and briefly asked God's blessingon the work. 

Profound astonishment kept the little ones quiet, and before they hadtime to recover the prayer was over. 

Zeppa's mode of terminating the assembly was characteristic. He did notlike to order the children away, much less to put them out of his hut, and the little creatures, being fond of the teacher, were prone toremain too long. When, therefore, he thought it time to close, hesimply rose up and took himself off, leaving his congregation todisperse when and how it pleased! Sometimes on these occasions he wouldremain away for, perhaps, two or three days, having totally forgottenthe singing class, to the great disappointment of the children. 

One night, while he was thus absent, the men of Ratura delivered theattack which they had long meditated. 

It was an unusually dark and still night; such a night as tends almostirresistibly to quiet and subdue wayward spirits, and induces man tothink of his Creator. Such a night as is apt to fill the guiltyconscience with unresting fears, as though it felt the near approach ofthat avenging sword which sooner or later it must meet. 

Nevertheless, unmoved by its influences--except in so far as it suitedtheir dark designs--the Raturans chose it for the fell purpose ofinvading their neighbours' lands, and exterminating their ancient foes;for, driven to desperation by the taunts and scorn of the Mountain-men, they felt that nothing short of extermination would suffice. And theywere right. Extermination of the sinners, or the sins, was indeed theironly chance of peace! Not knowing the Gospel method of blotting out thelatter, their one resource lay in obliterating the former. 

In the dead of night--that darkest hour when deeds of villainy andviolence are usually done--the Raturan chief once more assembled his menfrom all quarters of the rolling plains and the dismal swamps, until theentire force of the tribe was under his command. 

Leaving the aged men and boys to protect the women and children, thosedark-skinned warriors marched away to battle--not with the flauntingbanners and martial music of civilised man, but with the profoundsilence and the stealthy tread of the savage. Though the work in handwas the same, the means to the end were different; we will thereforedescribe them. 

Had it been a daylight battle to which they went forth, their women andboys would have followed with reserve ammunition in the shape of basketsfull of stones, and spare javelins; but, being a night attack, thefighting men went alone--each armed with a heavy club, a light spear, and a stone knife or hatchet. 

Arrived at the pass where they had met with such a singular repulse on aformer occasion, the main body was halted, and scouts were sent out inadvance to see that all was clear. Then the plan of attack was formed. One detachment was to approach the enemy's village on the right; anotherwas to go round to the left; while the main body was to advance infront. 

There is a proverb relating to the plans of men as well as mice, whichreceives verification in every land and time. Its truth receivedcorroboration at this time on Sugar-loaf Island. On that same night itchanced that the chief Ongoloo was unable to sleep. He sent for hisprime-ministerial-jester and one of his chiefs, to whom he proposed aramble. The chief and jester professed themselves charmed with theproposal, although each had been roused from a pleasant slumber. 

In the course of the ramble they came unexpectedly on one of the Raturanscouts, whom they temporarily extinguished with a club. Ongoloo becameat once alive to the situation, and took instant action. 

"Wapoota!" he said in an excited whisper, "run to the rear of the foe. Go swiftly, like the sea bird. When you get there, yell, shriek--like--like--you know how! As you did last time! Change your ground at eachyell--so they will think you a host. Fear not to be captured. Yourdeath is nothing. Away!"

A kick facilitated Wapoota's flight, and the two chiefs returned atspeed to rouse the sleeping camp. 

Wapoota performed his part nobly--and without being captured, for he didnot agree with Ongoloo as to the unimportance of his own death! At theunexpected outcry in the rear the Raturans halted, and held a hastycouncil of war. 

"Let us go back and fight them, " said one. 

"No use, they are evil spirits--not men, " said another. 

Some agreed with the former--some with the latter. 

"While we waste time here, " said the leading chief, "the mountain dogswill get ready for us. Come! Forward!"

The chief was right. Ongoloo's ruse caused delay, so that when theRaturans reached the village they found armed men ready to receive them. These they attacked with great courage, and waged a somewhat scramblingfight until daylight enabled each party to concentrate its forces. 

Meanwhile, at the first alarm, the women and children of the village hadbeen sent off to the mountains for safety. Among the fugitives wereLippy and her mother. These happened to meet with the enemy'sdetachment which had been sent to assault the village on the left. Thewomen scattered and fled. The savage warriors pursued, and several weretaken, among them Lippy and her mother, who were promptly despatched tothe rear. Those of the broken band that escaped continued their flightto the hills. 

They had not gone far when they met Zeppa returning from one of hisrambles. His surprise on hearing that the village had been attacked wasgreat and his anxiety considerable. Although he had refused to go outto war with his entertainers, he felt no disposition to stand idly bywhen they were attacked. Disordered though his mind was, he could makea clear distinction between aggressive war and self-defence. 

"And where is Lippy?" he asked, glancing round on the terrified faces. 

"She is caught and carried away--with her mother. "

"What!" exclaimed Zeppa, with a flash of his bright eyes that told ofnatural rage mingling with the fires of insanity. 

The women did not wait for more. They ran away from him in terror. 

But Zeppa had heard enough. Turning his face towards the village hesped over the ground at a pace that soon brought him in sight of thecombatants, who seemed to be swaying to and fro--now here, now there--asthe tide of battle flowed and victory leaned sometimes to one sidesometimes to the other. 

Zeppa was unarmed. As he drew near he was observed by both parties tostop abruptly in his career, and wrench out of the ground a stake thathad been meant for the corner-post of a newly-begun hut. It resembledthe great club of Hercules rather than a weapon of modern man. 

Whirling it like a feather round his head, the maniac rushed on. He wasthoroughly roused. A feeling of desperate anxiety coupled with a senseof horrible injustice had set his spirit in a blaze. His great size, which became more apparent as he advanced, his flashing eyes, compressedlips, and the wild flowing of his uncut hair and beard, gave himaltogether an aspect so terrible that his foes trembled, while hisfriends rejoiced, and when at last he uttered a roar like a mad bull, and launched himself into the thickest of the fight the Raturans couldnot stand it, but turned and fled in a body under the impression that hewas more than human. He was too fleet for them, however. Overtaking aflying knot, he brought the the corner-post down on the mass, and threewarriors were levelled with the ground. Then, hurling the mighty clubaway as if it were a mere hindrance to him, he ran straight at theleader of the Raturans, who, being head and shoulders above his fellows, seemed a suitable foe to single out. 

Before reaching him, however, his attention was arrested by a cry fromsome one in the midst of the enemy in front. It was the voice ofWapoota, who was trying to break his way through the flying foe to hisown people. 

Fortunately Zeppa recognised the voice, and darted towards his friend, who was hard pressed at the time by a crowd of opponents. 

One roar from the maniac sent these flying like chaff before the wind. It must be added, however, for the credit of the men of Ratura, thatOngoloo and his warriors had backed up their new leader gallantly. 

When Wapoota saw his deliverer, he ran to him, panting, and said--

"Come with me--this way--Lippy is here!"

That was sufficient. Zeppa became submissive like a child, while thejester, taking him by the hand, ran with him at racing speed in thedirection of the Raturan villages, towards which the child and hermother were being led by the party which had captured them. 

This was briefly explained to Zeppa by Wapoota, who had chanced toencounter the party when returning from his yelling mission, if we mayso express it. 

The race was a long one, but neither the madman nor his friend flaggeduntil they overtook the party. It consisted of about thirty warriors, but if it had been thirty hundred it would have made no difference inthe effect of Zeppa's roar and aspect as he rushed upon them withobviously awful intentions, though without arms. In fact the lattercircumstance tended rather to increase the fears of the superstitiousnatives. They fled as one man at the first sight of the maniac andLippy was recovered!

Instantly Zeppa's ferocity vanished, and the tenderest of smiles rippledover his face as he took the child in his arms and kissed her. 

But Wapoota did not feel quite so easy, for in their mad race they hadoutstripped the flying enemy, bands of whom were constantly passing themin their flight before the Mountain-men. His anxieties, however, weregroundless, for no sooner did any of the Raturans set eyes on Zeppa, than, with howls of consternation, they diverged at a tangent likehunted hares, and coursed away homeward on the wings of terror. 

As on former occasions of conquest, the Mountain-men pursued the flyinghost into their swamps, but they did not, as in former times, return toslay the aged and carry the women and children into captivity. 

To the surprise of all his followers, and the anger of not a few, Ongoloo commanded his men to return to their village and leave theRaturans alone. One of his chiefs, who showed a disposition to resisthis authority, he promptly knocked down, whereupon the rest becameobedient and went quietly home. 

On reaching the village, Zeppa went straight to his hut with Lippy onhis shoulder. Apparently he had forgotten all about the recent fightfor, without even waiting to take food or rest he sat down, and began togive his little friend a singing lesson!

With the air of a little princess, who felt that she was only receivingher due, the child accepted the attention. Her young companions, attracted by the sweet sounds, soon flocked to the old place ofrendezvous, and when the last of the straggling warriors returned fromthe field of battle they found the singing class going full swing as ifnothing had happened. 

But when the wounded and the dead were brought in, other sounds began toarise--sounds of wailing and woe, which soon drowned the hymns ofpraise. As soon as Zeppa became fully alive to this fact he ceasedsinging and went about trying to comfort those who wept but, from hisperplexed air, and the frequency with which he paused in his wanderingsto and fro and passed his hand across his brow, as if to clear away somemisty clouds that rested there, it was evident that his shatteredintellect had taken in a very imperfect impression of what had occurred. 

As if to get rid of this beclouded state, he started off that evening ata quick walk towards his favourite haunts among the hills. No one everfollowed him on these occasions. The natives regarded his person as insome measure sacred, and would have deemed it not only dangerous butinsolent to go up among the rocky heights when the madman was known tobe there. 

Once, indeed, Wapoota, with that presumptuous temerity which is acharacteristic of fools in general, ventured, on the strength of oldacquaintance, to follow him, and even went towards the well known cavewhere he had found refuge and protection in the day of his distress; butZeppa had either forgotten his former intercourse with the jester orintended to repudiate the connection, for he did not receive him kindly. 

On the way up, Wapoota, who felt somewhat timorous about the visit, hadmade up his mind as to the best mode of address with which to approachhis friend. He had decided that, although he was not particularlyyouthful, the language and manner of a respectful son to a reveredfather would best befit the occasion. Accordingly when he reached thecave and saw Zeppa busy beside his fire with a cocoa-nut, he assumed astooping attitude of profound respect, and drew near. 

Zeppa looked up with a frown, as if annoyed at the intrusion. 

"Your unworthy son, " began Wapoota, "comes to--"

But he got no further. He could not well have hit upon a moreunfortunate phrase. 

"My unworthy _son_!" shouted Zeppa, leaping up, while unearthly firesseemed to shoot from his distended eyes. "My son! _son_! Ha!ha-a-a-a!"

The horrified intruder heard the terminal yell, and saw the maniac boundover the fire towards him, but he saw and heard no more, for his limbsbecame suddenly endued with something like electric vitality. He turnedand shot over a small precipice, as if flung from an ancient catapult. What he alighted on he did not know, still less did he care. It wassufficiently soft to prevent death. 

Another awful cry echoed and re-echoed from the heights above, andintensified the electric battery within him. He went down the slopesregardless of gradient at a pace that might have left even Zeppa behindif he had followed; but Zeppa did not follow. 

When Wapoota went over the precipice and disappeared, Zeppa halted andstood erect, gazing with a questioning aspect at the sky, and drawinghis hand slowly across his brows with that wearied and puzzled aspectwhich had become characteristic. 

Returning after a few minutes to his cave, he reseated himself quietlybeside his fire, and, with his usual placid expression, devoted himselfearnestly to his cocoa-nut. 

That was the first and last occasion on which the poor madmanexperienced intrusion from the natives in his mountain retreat. 

CHAPTER EIGHT. 

Let us return, now, to our miserable and half-hearted pirate, far outupon the raging sea. 

It must not be supposed that the Pacific Ocean is always peaceful. No--there are days and nights when its winds howl, and its billows roar, andheave, and fume, with all the violence and fury of any other terrestrialsea. 

On one such night, the pirate's barque was tossed like a cork on thePacific's heaving bosom, while the shrieking winds played, as it were, fiendishly with the fluttering shreds of sails which they had previouslyblown to ribbons. 

Richard Rosco stood beside the weather-bulwarks holding on to one of themizzen back-stays. His mate Redford assisted the man at the wheel. 

Upwards of three years of Rosco's rule had subdued Redford to thecondition of a hypocritical and sly, but by no means a submissive, savage. One or two spurts at the commencement of their career hadsatisfied the mate, as well as the men, that the only way to overcomeRosco was to take his life; and as Redford had not sufficient courage, and the men no desire, to do that, they pursued their evil courses incomparative harmony. Nevertheless, the pirate captain knew well thatthe savage Redford was more acceptable to the pirates than himself so hedetermined to carry out intentions which had been simmering in his brainfor some time, and rid the pirate crew of his presence. 

"We will sight the island to-morrow afternoon, sir, if this holds, " saidthe mate. 

"I know it, " answered Rosco. 

"There is no good anchorage around it, " continued the mate. 

"So you have told me before, " returned the captain, "but it matters not;we shall not anchor. "

"Not anchor!" repeated Redford in surprise. "I understood that we wereto land there to ship sandal-wood. The crew thought so too, and I'mquite sure--"

"Well--go on--what are you sure of?"

"Oh! nothing--only sure that Captain Rosco understands his ownintentions best. "

Rosco made no reply, and nothing further passed between the inharmoniouspair at that time. Next day the gale abated, and, as Redford hadpredicted, Sugar-loaf Island was sighted in the afternoon. 

Running close in under the shelter of the mountain, the barque washove-to and a boat lowered. 

"The crew will take arms with them, I suppose, sir?" asked the mate. 

"Of course, though there will not be occasion for them, as there are nonatives at this part of the island. I merely wish to ascend the hill toreconnoitre. You will go with me. Put your pistols in your belt, andfetch my rifle. We may get some fresh meat among the hills. "

Breech-loading rifles had just come into fashion at that time, and thepirate captain had possessed himself of a double-barrelled one, withwhich he became wonderfully expert. This weapon was put into the boatwith a large pouch full of cartridges. No comments were made in regardto this, the pirates having been accustomed to see their commander landin various places for a day's shooting, the result of which was usuallyan acceptable addition of fresh food to their larder. 

"Remain by the boat, lads, till we return, " said Rosco, leaping out whenthe keel grated on the shore. "Come with me, Redford. "

The mate obeyed, following his commander towards the same ravine where, about four years before, they had seen poor Zeppa disappear among therecesses of the mountain. Redford felt a little surprise, and more thana little discomfort, at the peculiar conduct of his captain; but hecomforted himself with the thought that if he should attempt anyviolence, there was a brace of pistols in his belt, and a cutlass at hisside. He even for a moment meditated using the pistols when he lookedat Rosco's broad back; but he knew that some of the men in the boat hada sort of sneaking fondness for their captain, and refrained--at leasttill he should get out of sight of the boat and into the shelter of thewoods where his actions could not be seen, and any account of the affairmight be coloured to suit his convenience. 

Richard Rosco divined pretty well what was passing in his mate's mind. He also knew that as long as they were in sight of the boat, his enemywould not dare to injure him; he therefore threw his rifle carelesslyover his shoulder, and walked with the most easy air of nonchalance overthe strip of level land that lay between the sea and the forest thatfringed the mountain base. 

On the instant of entering the mouth of the ravine, however, he wheeledsuddenly round and said--

"Now, Redford, you will lead the way, and I will direct you. "

The mate was startled, and his right hand moved, as if by involuntaryimpulse, toward the handle of a pistol. 

Instantly the muzzle of the captain's rifle was pointed at his breast. 

"Drop your hand!" he said sternly. "Another such threat, and I willshoot you with as much indifference as I would a sneaking dog. Now goon and do as I bid you. "

Redford gave in at once. He was at Rosco's mercy. Without a word hepassed on in advance, and ascended the ravine with a quick, steady step. To say the truth, he knew well that while his commander, on the onehand, would not threaten what he did not mean to perform, on the otherhand he would never shed human blood needlessly. He therefore felt lesstroubled than might have been expected. 

They soon reached a small eminence or rocky plateau, from which wasobtained a splendid view of the sea, with the barque floating like alarge albatross on its surface. From that point the boat could also beclearly seen, and every step of the path by which they had reached theeminence. 

"Now, Redford, " said Rosco, throwing his rifle into the hollow of hisleft arm, so as to bring the muzzle full on the mate's chest, while, with the forefinger of his right hand, he lightly touched the triggers, "draw your pistols from your belt, and be very careful how you do it--very careful--for if, even by chance, you touch hammer or trigger, youare a dead man. "

There was something of banter in Rosco's manner, yet this was associatedwith an air and tone of such calm decision that the mate felt curiouslyuncomfortable. He obeyed orders, however, promptly, and stood with apistol in each hand. It must have been a tantalising position, for, hadthey been cocked, he could have blown out Rosco's brains in a moment. Indeed, he was sorely tempted to break the half-cock catch on the chanceof one or both going off, but his commander's eye and muzzle forbade it. 

"Drop them, " said Rosco, suddenly. 

If they had been red-hot irons, the mate could scarcely have let them gomore quickly. It almost seemed as if his guilty desire had passed intothe weapons and intensified the laws of gravitation--they came to therock with such a clatter. 

"That will do. Now, two paces step--back, march! Splendid. Why, Redford, I had no idea you were so well up in your drill, " said Rosco, stepping to the spot beside the pistols, which the mate had justvacated. "You are fit to act fugleman to the British army. Now, claspyour hands behind your back, and don't unclasp them till I give youleave. It's a new piece of drill but not difficult to learn. "

The cowed pirate was too much alarmed to be amused by this last sally. He stood, sulkily it is true, but anxiously, awaiting further orders. 

"Look here, Redford, " continued the pirate captain. "I want to prove toyou that the distance from this spot to the boat is about five hundredyards. You see that gull on the water? It is about the same distanceoff as the boat--well--"

He sighted his rifle for five hundred yards, took a rapid aim, fired, and the gull, leaping its own height out of the water, fell back dead. 

"Oh! don't start my fine fellow, you forget the _other_ barrel!"

The reminder was in time to check an unwise impulse on the mate's part. 

"Now, " continued Rosco, assuming a more serious tone, "I have broughtyou here for a last conversation. You have long desired to command thatvessel, and I have long desired to resign the command. We shall bothhave our desires gratified this day. I intend to take up my abode here;you are free to go where you please--but not to come here again. Lay mywords to heart, now, and let me advise you to impress them on your crew. If you ever venture to come to this island again, I promise you toshoot every man that puts his foot upon the shore, and to shoot all thatfollow, as long as my ammunition lasts. And, you see, I have brought apretty large bag of it on shore, which I do not mean to waste on gulls, or anything else. I mean to keep it entirely for your benefit, myworthy friend--so, after this warning, you will please yourself, andtake your own course. Now, go down to the boat; row straight back toyour ship, tell your crew whatever you choose as to our interview, andgo where you please. But bear in mind that my rifle will cover youduring every step that you take from this spot down to the beach, ay, and after you have left the beach too, until you are safe on board. Remember, also, that the rifle is sighted for one thousand yards, andthat the barque is not much farther off than that. Go!"

The last word was uttered in such a tone, that Redford instantly turned, and, without even a word of reply, retraced his steps to the shore. Then he promptly embarked, and the men promptly shoved off while Roscosat on the rocky eminence, quietly watching them. 

No words did Redford speak to his wondering men, except such as wereneeded to direct the boat. On gaining the vessel, he sprang up theside, ordered all sail to be set and the guns to be loaded. When thevessel had increased her distance a few hundred yards from the shore, hebrought her broadside to bear on the land, and then, having carefullylaid the guns, gave the word to fire. 

The hull of the pirate vessel was instantly enveloped in a snowy curtainof smoke, and, next moment, the echoes of the hills were rudely startledby a thunderous crash, while a dozen or more iron balls burst likebomb-shells on the cliffs immediately above the spot where Rosco sat, sending showers of rock in all direction; and driving the sea-mews inshrieking terror from their nests. 

"A mere waste of ammunition, " murmured Rosco, with a contemptuous curlof his lip, as he rose. "But the next may be better aimed, so I'll bidyou good-bye, Redford!"

Descending into the ravine, he was soon safe from the iron messengers ofdeath, of which the enraged Redford sent another group ashore beforefinally bidding the island farewell. 

Now, it so happened that Zeppa was ascending the Sugar-loaf mountain onits other side, when all this cannonading was going on. He wasnaturally surprised at such unwonted sounds, and, remembering thatcannon implied ships, and that ships were necessary to deliverance fromhis enforced exile, he naturally hastened his steps, and experienced anunusual degree of excitement. 

When he reached his favourite outlook--a ledge of flat land on thesouthern face of the hill, partially covered with bushes--he saw thepirate vessel sailing away from the island, and the smoke of her twobroadsides rising like two snowy cloudlets into the blue sky. At firstan expression of disappointment flitted across Zeppa's countenance, butit quickly passed, leaving the usual air of childlike submission behind. He sat down on a ledge of rock, and gazed long and wistfully at theretreating vessel. Then, casting his eyes upwards to the blue vault, hegave way to an impulse which had been growing upon him for some time--hebegan to pray aloud. 

It was while he was engaged in this act of devotion that Richard Roscocame upon the scene. 

At the first sound of the madman's deep voice, the pirate stopped andlistened with a feeling of superstitious dread which seemed to check thevery action of his heart--for, at the moment, a few bushes concealed hisold enemy from his sight. Stepping cautiously forward, he could seethrough the interlacing boughs without himself being seen; and then theblood forsook his visage, and his limbs trembled as if he had been aparalysed old man. 

Could the man before him, in tattered garments, with the dishevelledmass of flowing, curly, iron-grey hair, with the long, heavy beard andmoustache, the hollow cheeks, and the wonderfully solemn eyes--could_that_ be Zeppa? It seemed impossible, yet there was no mistaking thewell known and still handsome features, or the massive, sinewy frame--still less was it possible to doubt the deep, sonorous voice. Butthen--Zeppa had been seen on Ratinga Island, and the description givenof him by those who had seen him had been so exact that Rosco had neverdoubted his return home and recovery of reason. 

Whatever he thought or felt, however, the pirate's whole being was soonabsorbed in the madman's prayer. It was simple, like himself. He askedfor permission to return home, and made a humble confession of sin. From the tenor of it, there could be no doubt that poor Zeppa had cometo regard his exile as a direct punishment from God. Then the prayerchanged to a petition for blessings on his wife and son and the deepvoice became deeper and full of tenderness. 

The pirate experienced a shock of surprise--was the son, then, stillalive? And, if so, how came Zeppa to know? He could not know it! Theman before him must either be the creature of his own disordered fancy, or a real visitant from the world of spirits!

As these thoughts coursed like lightning through the pirate's brain, hewas suddenly startled by the sound of his own name. 

"And Rosco, " said the madman, still looking steadily up into the sky, while a dark frown slowly gathered on his brow--"Oh! God, curse--no--no, no. Forgive me, Lord, and forgive _him_, and save him from hissins. " He stopped abruptly here, and looked confused. 

The mention of the pirate and his sins seemed to remind the poor fatherthat his son had been murdered, and yet, somehow, he had fancied himalive, and had been praying for him! He could not understand it at all. The old look of mingled perplexity and patient submission was beginningagain to steal over his face, and his hand was in the familiar act ofpassing over the troubled brow, when Zeppa's eyes alighted on Rosco'scountenance. 

It would be difficult to say which, at that moment, most resembled amaniac. The sight of his enemy did more, perhaps, to restore Zeppa to aspurious kind of sanity than anything that had occurred since the fatalday of his bereavement, and called up an expression of fierceindignation to his countenance. All memory of his previous prayervanished, and he glared for a moment at the pirate with intense fury. 

At the same time Rosco stood with blanched cheeks, intense horror in hiseyes, his lower jaw dropped, and his whole frame, as it were, transfixed. 

The inaction of both was, however, but momentary. The madman sprang up, clutched the heavy staff he was wont to use in climbing the hills, andrushed impetuously but without word or cry at his foe. The pirate, brave though he undoubtedly was, lost all self-control, and fled inabject terror. Fortunately, the first part of the descent from the spotwas unobstructed; for, in the then condition of their feelings, both menwould probably have flung themselves over any precipice that had lain intheir way. A few moments, however, sufficed to restore enough ofself-possession to the pirate to enable him to direct his course withsome intelligence. He naturally followed the path by which he hadascended, and soon gained the beach, closely followed by Zeppa. 

In speed the two men were at the time well matched, for any advantagethat Zeppa had in point of size and strength was counterbalanced by theyouth and superstitious terror of Rosco. At first, indeed, the madmangained on his foe, but as the impetuosity of his first dash abated, thepirate's courage returned, and, warming to the race, he held his ground. 

Like hare and greyhound they coursed along the level patch of groundthat lay on that side of the island, until they came in sight of theswampy land, covered with low but dense wood which bounded the lands ofthe Raturans. Dismay overwhelmed the pirate at first sight of it. Thenhope rebounded into his soul, and he put on a spurt which carried himconsiderably ahead of his pursuer. He reached the edge of theswamp-land, and dashed into its dark recesses. He had barely entered ita few yards when he plunged into water up to the neck. The heavy rootof a tree chanced to hang over him. Drawing himself close beneath it, he remained quite still. It was his best--indeed his only--chance. 

Next moment Zeppa plunged headlong into another part of the samehalf-hidden pool. Arising, like some shaggy monster of the swamp, withweeds and slimy plants trailing from his locks, he paused a moment, asif to make sure of his direction before resuming the chase. At thatmoment he was completely in the power of the pirate, for his broad backwas not more than a few feet from the screen of roots and tendrils bywhich Rosco was partially hidden. The temptation was strong. Thepirate drew the keen knife that always hung at his girdle, but a feelingof pity induced him to hesitate. The delay sufficed to save Zeppa'slife. Next moment he seized an overhanging branch, drew himself out ofthe swamp, and sped on his way; but, having lost sight of his enemy, hesoon paused and looked round with indecision. 

"It must have been a dream, " he muttered, and began to retrace his stepswith an air of humiliation, as if half ashamed of having given way tosuch excitement. From his hiding-place the pirate saw him pass, andwatched him out of sight. Then, clambering quickly out of the stagnantpool, he pushed deeper and deeper into the recesses of the morass, regardless of every danger, except that of falling into the madman'shands. 

CHAPTER NINE. 

Who shall tell, or who shall understand, the thoughts of Richard Rosco, the ex-pirate, as he wandered, lost yet regardless, in that dismalswamp?

The human spirit is essentially galvanic. It jumps like a grasshopper, bounds like a kangaroo. The greatest of men can only restrain it in aslight degree. The small men either have exasperating trouble with it, or make no attempt to curb it at all. It is a rebellious spirit. Thebest of books tells us that, "Greater is he that ruleth it, than he thattaketh a city. "

Think of that, youngster, whoever you are, who readeth this. Think ofthe conquerors of the world. Think of the "Great" Alexander, whosemight was so tremendous that he subjugated kingdoms and spent his lifein doing little else. Think of Napoleon "the Great, " whose armiesravaged Europe from the Atlantic to Asia: who even began--though hefailed to finish--the conquest of Africa; who made kings as you mightmake pasteboard men, and filled the civilised world with fear, as wellas with blood and graves--all for his own glorification! Think of theseand other "great" men, and reflect that it is written, "He who rules hisown spirit" is _greater_ than they. 

Yes, the human spirit is difficult to deal with, and uncomfortablyexplosive. At least so Richard Rosco found it when, towards the closeof the day on which his enemy chased him into the dismal swamp, he satdown on a gnarled root and began to reflect. 

His spirit jumped almost out of him with contempt, when he thought thatfor the first time in his life, he had fled in abject terror from theface of man! He could not conceal that from himself, despite the excusesuggested by pride--that he had half believed Zeppa to be an apparition. What even if that were true? Had he not boastfully said more than oncethat he would defy the foul fiend himself if he should attempt to thwarthim? Then his spirit bounded into a region of disappointed rage when hethought of the lost opportunity of stabbing his enemy to the heart. After that, unbidden, and in spite of him, it dropped into an abyss ofsomething like fierce despair when he recalled the past surveyed thepresent, and forecast the future. Truly, if hell ever does begin to menon earth, it began that day to the pirate, as he sat in the twilight onthe gnarled root, with one of his feet dangling in the slimy water, hishands clasped so tight that the knuckles stood out white, and his eyesgazing upwards with an expression that seemed the very embodiment ofwoe. 

Then his spirit lost its spring, and he began to crawl, in memory, onthe shores of "other days. " He thought of the days when, comparativelyinnocent he rambled on the sunny hills of old England; played and didmischief with comrades; formed friendships and fought battles, and knewwhat it was to experience good impulses; understood the joy of givingway to these, as well as the depression consequent on resisting them;and recalled the time when he regarded his mother as the supreme judgein every case of difficulty--the only comforter in every time of sorrow. 

At this point his spirit grovelled like a crushed worm in the stagnantpool of his despair, for he had no hope. He had sinned everyopportunity away. He had defied God and man, and nothing was left tohim, apparently, save "a fearful looking-for of judgment. "

As he bent over the pool he saw his own distorted visage dimly reflectedtherein, and the thought occurred, --"Why not end it all at once? Fiveminutes at the utmost and all will be over!" The pirate was aphysically brave man beyond his fellows. He had courage to carry theidea into effect but--"after death the judgment!" Where had he heardthese words? They were strange to him, but they were not new. Thosewho are trained in the knowledge of God's Word are not as a generalrule, moved in an extraordinary degree by quotations from it. It isoften otherwise with those who have had little of it instilled into themin youth and none in later years. That which may seem to a Christianbut a familiar part of the "old, old story, " sometimes becomes tohundreds and thousands of human beings a startling revelation. It wasso to the pirate on this occasion. The idea of judgment took such ahold of him that he shrank from death with far more fear than he everhad, with courage, faced it in days gone by. Trembling, terrified, abject he sat there, incapable of consecutive thought or intelligentaction. 

At last the gloom which had been slowly deepening over the swamp sankinto absolute blackness, and the chills of night, which wereparticularly sharp in such places, began to tell upon him. But he didnot dare to move, lest he should fall into the swamp. Slowly heextended himself on the root; wound his arms and fingers convulsivelyamong leaves and branches, and held on like a drowning man. An ague-fitseemed to have seized him, for he trembled violently in every limb; andas his exhausted spirit was about to lose itself in sleep, or, as itseemed to him, in death, he gave vent to a subdued cry, "God be mercifulto me a sinner!"

Rest, such as it was, refreshed the pirate, and when the grey dawn, struggling through the dense foliage, awoke him, he rose up with afeeling of submissiveness which seemed, somehow, to restore his energy. 

He was without purpose, however, for he knew nothing of hissurroundings, and, of course, could form no idea of what was best to bedone. In these circumstances he rose with a strange sensation ofhelplessness, and wandered straight before him. 

And oh! how beautiful were the scenes presented to his vision!Everything in this world is relative. That which is hideous at one timeis lovely at another. In the night the evening, or at the grey dawn, the swamp was indeed dismal in the extreme; but when the morningadvanced towards noon all that was changed, as if magically, by theaction of the sun. Black, repulsive waters reflected patches of thebright blue sky, and every leaf, and spray, and parasite, and tendril, that grew in the world above was faithfully mirrored in the world below. Vistas of gnarled roots and graceful stems and drooping boughs wereseen on right and left, before and behind, extending as if into infinitespace, while innumerable insects, engaged in the business of their briefexistence, were filling the region with miniature melodies. 

But Richard Rosco saw it not. At least it made no sensible impressionon him. His mental retina was capable of receiving only two pictures:the concentrated accumulation of past sin--the terrible anticipation offuture retribution. Between these two, present danger and sufferingwere well-nigh forgotten. 

Towards noon, however, the sense of hunger began to oppress him. Heallayed it with a few wild berries. Then fatigue began to tell, forwalking from root to root sometimes on short stretches of solid land, sometimes over soft mud, often knee-deep in water, was very exhausting. At last he came to what appeared to be the end of the swamp, and here hediscovered a small patch of cultivated ground. 

The discovery awoke him to the necessity of caution, but he was awakenedtoo late, for already had one of the Raturan natives observed himadvancing out of the swamp. Instantly he gave the alarm that a "whiteface" was approaching. Of course the appearance of one suggested ascout, and the speedy approach of a host. Horrified to see a supposedenemy come from a region which they had hitherto deemed their surerefuge, the few natives who dwelt there flew to arms, and ran to meetthe advancing foe. 

The pirate was not just then in a mood to resist. He had no weapon, andno spirit left. He therefore suffered himself to be taken prisonerwithout a struggle, satisfied apparently to know that the madman was notone of those into whose hands he had fallen. 

Great was the rejoicing among the Raturans when the prisoner was broughtin, for they were still smarting under the humiliation of their defeat, and knew well that their discomfiture had been largely owing to theinfluence of "white faces. " True, they did not fall into the mistake ofsupposing that Rosco was the awful giant who had chased and belabouredthem so unmercifully with a long stake, but they at once concluded thathe was a comrade of Zeppa--perhaps one of a band who had joined theirfoes. Besides, whether he were a comrade or not was a matter of smallmoment. Sufficient for them that his face was white, that he belongedto a race which, in the person of Zeppa, had wrought them evil, and thathe was now in their power. 

Of course, the Raturans had not during all these years, remained inignorance of the existence of Zeppa. They had heard of his dwelling inthe mountain soon after he had visited the village of their enemies, andhad also become aware of the fact that the white man was a madman and agiant, but more than this they did not know, because of their feudpreventing interchange of visits or of news between the tribes. Theirimaginations, therefore, having full swing, had clothed Zeppa in some ofthe supposed attributes of a demigod. These attributes, however, thesame imaginations quickly exchanged for those of a demi-devil, when atlast they saw Zeppa in the flesh, and were put to flight by him. Hissize, indeed, had rather fallen short of their expectation, for sixtyfeet had been the average estimate, but his fury and aspect had comequite up to the mark, and the fact that not a man of the tribe had daredto stand before him, was sufficient to convince a set of superstitioussavages that he was a real devil in human guise. To have secured one ofhis minor comrades, therefore, was a splendid and unlooked-for piece ofgood fortune, which they resolved to make the most of by burning thepirate alive. 

Little did the wretched man think, when they conducted him to a hut inthe middle of their village and supplied him with meat and drink, thatthis was a preliminary ceremony to the terrible end they purposed tomake of him. It is true he did not feel easy in his mind, for, despitethis touch of hospitality, his captors regarded him with looks ofundisguised hatred. 

There was something of the feline spirit in these Raturan savages. Asthe cat plays with the mouse before killing it, so did they amusethemselves with the pirate before putting him to the final torture whichwas to terminate his life. 

And well was it for Rosco that they did so, for the delay thus causedwas the means of saving his life--though he did not come out of thedread ordeal scathless. 

They began with a dance--a war-dance it is to be presumed--at all eventsit involved the flourishing of clubs and spears, the formation ofhideous faces, and the perpetration of frightful grimaces, with boundsand yells enough to warrant the conclusion that the dance was not one ofpeace. Richard Rosco formed the centre of that dance--the sun, as itwere, of the system round which the dusky host revolved. But he did notjoin in the celebration, for he was bound firmly to a stake set up inthe ground, and could not move hand or foot. 

At first the warriors of the tribe moved round the pirate in a circle, stamping time slowly with their feet while the women and children stoodin a larger circle, marking time with hands and voices. Presently thedance grew more furious, and ultimately attained to a pitch of wildviolence which is quite indescribable. At the height of the paroxysm, awarrior would ever and anon dart out from the circle with whirling club, and bring it down as if on the prisoner's skull, but would turn it asideso deftly that it just grazed his ear and fell with a dull thud on theground. Other warriors made at him with their spears, which they thrustwith lightning speed at his naked breast, but checked them just as theytouched the skin. 

Two or three of these last were so inexpert that they pricked the skinslightly, and blood began to trickle down, but these clumsy warriorswere instantly kicked from the circle of dancers, and compelled to taketheir place among the women and children. 

When they had exhausted themselves with the dance, the warriors sat downto feast upon viands, which had, in the meanwhile, been preparing forthem, and while they feasted they taunted their prisoner with cowardice, and told him in graphic language of the horrors that yet awaited him. 

Fortunately for the miserable man--who was left bound to the stakeduring the feast--he did not understand a word of what was said. He hadbeen stripped of all clothing save a pair of short breeches, reaching alittle below the knee, and his naked feet rested on a curious piece ofbasketwork. This last would have been too slight to bear his weight ifhe had not been almost suspended by the cords that bound him to thestake. 

Rosco was very pale. He felt that his doom was fixed; but his nativecourage did not forsake him. He braced himself to meet his fate like aman, and resolved to shut his eyes, when next they began to dance roundhim, so that he should not shrink from the blow or thrust which, he feltsure, would ere long end his ill-spent life. But the time seemed to himterribly long, and while he hung there his mind began to recall thegloomy past. Perhaps it was a refinement of cruelty on the part of thesavages that they gave him time to think, so that his courage might bereduced or overcome. 

If so, they were mistaken in their plan. The pirate showed no unusualsign of fear. Once he attempted to pray, but he found that almostimpossible. 

Wearied at length with waiting, the savages arose, and began to putfagots and other combustibles under the wicker-basket on which thepirate stood. Then, indeed, was Rosco's courage tried nearly to theuttermost and when he saw the fire actually applied, he uttered a cry of"Help! help!" so loud and terrible that his enemies fell back for amoment as if appalled. 

And help came from a quarter that Rosco little expected. 

But to explain this we must return to Zeppa. We have said that he gaveup the chase of the pirate under the impression that the whole affairwas a dream; but, on returning to his cave, he found that he could notrest. Old associations and memories had been too violently aroused, and, after spending a sleepless night he rose up, determined to resumethe chase which he had abandoned. He returned to the spot where he hadlost sight of his enemy in the swamp, and, after a brief examination ofthe place, advanced in as straight a line as he could through thetangled and interlacing boughs. 

Naturally he followed the trail of the pirate, for the difficulties orpeculiar formations of the ground which had influenced the latter in hiscourse also affected Zeppa much in the same way. Thus it came to passthat when the Raturans were about to burn their prisoner alive, themadman was close to their village. But Zeppa did not think of theRaturans. He had never seen or heard of them, except on the occasion oftheir attack on the Mountain-men. His sole desire was to be revenged onthe slayer of his boy. And even in this matter the poor maniac wasstill greatly perplexed, for his Christian principles and his naturallygentle spirit forbade revenge on the one hand, while, on the other, asense of justice told him that murder should not go unpunished, or themurderer remain at large; so that it required the absolute sight ofRosco before his eyes to rouse him to the pitch of fury necessary tohold him to the execution of his purpose. 

It was while he was advancing slowly, and puzzling his brain over theseconsiderations, that Rosco's cry for help rang out. 

Zeppa recognised the voice, and a dark frown settled on his countenanceas he stopped to listen. Then an appalling yell filled his ears. Itwas repeated again and again, as the kindling flames licked round thepirate's naked feet, causing him to writhe in mortal agony. 

Instantly Zeppa was stirred to action. He replied with a tremendousshout. 

Well did the Raturans know that shout. With caught breath and blanchedfaces they turned towards the direction whence it came, and they saw themadman bounding towards them with streaming locks and glaring eyes. Asingle look sufficed. The entire population of the village turned andfled!

Next moment Zeppa rushed up to the stake, and kicked the fire-brandsfrom beneath the poor victim, who was by that time almost insensiblefrom agony and smoke. Drawing his knife, Zeppa cut the cords, and, lifting the pirate in his arms, laid him on the ground. 

The madman was terribly excited. He had been drenched from frequentimmersions in the swamp, besides being much exhausted by his long anddifficult walk, or rather, scramble, after a sleepless night; and thissudden meeting with his worst enemy in such awful circumstances seemedto have produced an access of insanity, so that the pirate feltuncertain whether he had not been delivered from a horrible fate to fallinto one perhaps not less terrible. 

As he lay there on his back, scorched, tormented with thirst andhelpless, he watched with fearful anxiety each motion of the madman. For some moments Zeppa seemed undecided. He stood with heaving chestexpanding nostrils, and flashing eyes, gazing after the flying crew ofnatives. Then he turned sharply on the unhappy man who lay at his feet. 

"Get up!" he said fiercely, "and follow me. "

"I cannot get up, Zeppa, " replied the pirate in a faint voice. "Don'tyou see my feet are burnt? God help me!"

He ended with a deep groan, and the ferocity at once left Zeppa'scountenance, but the wild light did not leave his eyes, nor did hebecome less excited in his actions. 

"Come, I will carry you, " he said. 

Stooping down quickly, he raised the pirate in his arms as if he hadbeen a child, and bore him away. 

Avoiding the swamp, he proceeded in the direction of the mountain byanother route--a route which ran so near to Ongoloo's village, that theRaturans never ventured to use it. 

He passed the village without having been observed, and began to toilslowly up the steep ascent panting as he went, for his mighty strengthhad been overtaxed, and his helpless burden was heavy. 

"Lay me down and rest yourself, " said Rosco, with a groan that he couldnot suppress, for his scorched lower limbs caused him unutterableanguish, and beads of perspiration stood upon his brow, while a deadlypallor overspread his face. 

Zeppa spoke no word in reply. He did, indeed, look at the speaker once, uneasily, but took no notice of his request. Thus, clasping his enemyto his breast he ascended the steep hill, struggling and stumblingupwards, as if with some fixed and stern purpose in view, until at lasthe gained the shelter of his mountain cave. 

CHAPTER TEN. 

We change the scene once more, and transport our readers over the oceanwaves to a noble ship which is breasting those waves right gallantly. It is H. M. S. "Furious. "

In a retired part of the ship's cabin there are two savage nobles who donot take things quite as gallantly as the ship herself. These are ourfriends Tomeo and Buttchee of Ratinga. Each is seated on the cabinfloor with his back against the bulkhead, an expression of woe-begonedesolation on his visage, his black legs apart, and a ship's bucketbetween them. It were bad taste to be too particular as to detailshere!

On quitting Ratinga, Tomeo and his brother chief had said that nothingwould rejoice their hearts so much as to go to sea. Their wish wasgratified, and, not long afterwards, they said that nothing couldrejoice their hearts so much as to get back to land! Such is thecontradictoriness of human nature. 

There was a stiffish breeze blowing, as one of the man-of-war's-menexpressed it and "a nasty sea on"--he did not say on what. There musthave been something nasty, also, on Tomeo's stomach, from the violentway in which he sought to get rid of it at times--without success. 

"Oh! Buttchee, my brother, " said Tomeo (of course in his nativetongue), "many years have passed over my head, a few white streaks beginto--to--" He paused abruptly, and eyed the bucket as if with anintention. 

"To appear, " he continued with a short sigh; "also, I have seen manywars and suffered much from many wounds as you--you--ha!--you know, Buttchee, my brother, but of all the--"

He became silent again--suddenly. 

"Why does my brother p-pause?" asked Buttchee, in a meek voice--as ofone who had suffered severely in life's pilgrimage. 

There was no occasion for Tomeo to offer a verbal reply. 

After a time Buttchee raised his head and wiped his eyes, in which weremany tears--but not of sorrow. 

"Tomeo, " said he, "was it worth our while to forsake wives and children, and church, and hymns, and taro fields, and home for th-this?"

"We did not leave for this, " replied Tomeo, with some acerbity, for heexperienced a temporary sensation of feeling better at the moment; "weleft all for the sake of assisting our friends in--there! it comes--it--"

He said no more, and both chiefs relapsed into silence--gazing the whileat the buckets with undue interest. 

They were interrupted by the sudden entrance of Ebony. 

"Come, you yaller-cheeked chiefs; you's die if you no make a heffort. Come on deck, breeve de fresh air. Git up a happetite. Go in for saltpork, plum duff, and lop-scouse, an' you'll git well 'fore you kin sayJack Rubinson. "

Tomeo and Buttchee looked up at the jovial negro and smiled--imbecilesmiles they were. 

"We cannot move, " said Tomeo and Buttchee together, "because we--w--"Together they ceased giving the reason--it was not necessary!

"Oh dear!" said Ebony, opening his great eyes to their widest. "You nokin lib long at dat rate. Better die on deck if you _mus'_ die; moreheasy for you to breeve up dar, an' more comf'rable to fro you overboardw'en you's got it over. "

With this cheering remark the worthy negro, seizing the chiefs each by ahand, half constrained, half assisted them to rise, and helped them tostagger to the quarter-deck, where they were greeted by Orlando, CaptainFitzgerald, Waroonga, and the missionary. 

"Come, that's right, " cried the captain, shaking the two melancholychiefs by the hand, "glad to see you plucking up courage. Tell them, Mr Zeppa, that we shall probably be at Sugar-loaf Island to-morrow, ornext day. "

The two unfortunates were visibly cheered by the assurance. To do themjustice, they had not quite given way to sea-sickness until then, forthe weather had been moderately calm, but the nasty sea and stiff breezehad proved too much for them. 

"Are you sure we shall find the island so soon?" asked Orlando of thecaptain in a low, earnest tone, for the poor youth's excitement andanxiety deepened as they drew near to the place where his father mightpossibly be found--at the same time a strange, shrinking dread of whatthey might find made him almost wish for delay. 

"I am not sure, of course, " returned the captain, "but if my informationis correct, there is every probability that we shall find it to-morrow. "

"I hopes we shall, " remarked Waroonga. "It would be a grand blessing ifthe Lord will gif us the island and your father in same day. "

"Mos' too good to be true, " observed Ebony, who was a privilegedindividual on board, owing very much to his good-humoured eccentricity. "But surely you not spec's de niggers to tumbil down at yous feet all atwance, Massa Waroonga?"

"Oh no, not at once. The day of miracle have pass, " returned themissionary. "We mus' use the means, and then, has we not the promisethat our work shall not be in vain?"

Next day about noon the Sugar-loaf mountain rose out of the sea like agreat pillar of hope to Orlando, as well as to the missionary. CaptainFitzgerald sailed close in, sweeping the mountain side with histelescope as he advanced until close under the cliffs, when he lay-toand held a consultation with his passengers. 

"I see no habitations of any kind, " he said, "nor any sign of thepresence of man, but I have heard that the native villages lie at thelower side of the island. Now, the question is, whether would it suityour purposes best to land an armed party here, and cross over to thevillages, or to sail round the island, drop anchor in the mostconvenient bay, and land a party there?"

Orlando, to whom this was more directly addressed, turned to themissionary. 

"What think you, Waroonga? You know native thought and feeling best. "

"I would not land armed party at all, " answered Waroonga. "But CappinFitzgald know his own business most. What he thinks?"

"My business and yours are so mingled, " returned the captain, "that Ilook to you for advice. My chief duty is to obtain information as tothe whereabouts of the pirate vessel, and I expect that such informationwill be got more readily through you, Waroonga, than any one else, for, besides being able to speak the native language, you can probablyapproach the savages more easily than I can. "

"They are not savages, " returned Waroonga quietly, "they are God'signorant children. I have seen worse men than South sea islanders withwhite faces an' soft clothin' who had not the excuse of ignorance. "

"Nay, my good sir, " said the captain, "we will not quarrel about terms. Whatever else these `ignorant children' may be, I know that they arebrave and warlike, and I shall gladly listen to your advice as tolanding. "

"If you wish to go to them in peace, do not go to them with arms, " saidWaroonga. 

"Surely you would not advise me to send an unarmed party among armedsav--children?" returned the captain, with a look of surprise, whileOrlando regarded his friend with mingled amusement and curiosity. 

"No. You best send no party at all. Jis' go round the island, put downangker, an' leave the rest to me. "

"But what do you propose to do?" asked the captain. 

"Swum to shore with Bibil. "

Orlando laughed, for he now understood the missionary's plan, and in afew words described the method by which Waroonga had subdued the nativesof Ratinga. 

"You see, by this plan, " he continued, "nothing is presented to thenatives which they will be tempted to steal, and if they are verywarlike or fierce, Waroonga's refusal to fight reduces them to a stateof quiet readiness to hear, which is all that we want. Waroonga'stongue does the rest. "

"With God's Holy Spirit and the Word, " interposed the missionary. 

"True, that is understood, " said Orlando. 

"That is not _always_ understood, " returned Waroonga. 

"The plan does not seem to me a very good one, " said Captain Fitzgeraldthoughtfully. "I can have no doubt that it has succeeded in time past, and may probably succeed again, but you cannot expect that the natives, even if disposed to be peaceful, will accept your message at once. Itmay take weeks, perhaps months, before you get them to believe thegospel, so as to permit of my men going ashore unarmed, and in themeantime, while you are engaged in this effort, what am I to be doing?"

"Wait God's time, " answered Waroonga simply. "But time presses. Thepirate vessel, where-ever it may be, is escaping me, " said the captain, unable to repress a smile. "However, I will at all events let you makethe trial and await the result; reminding you, however, that you willrun considerable risk, and that you must be prepared to accept theconsequences of your rather reckless proceedings. "

"I hope, Waroonga, " said Orlando, when the captain left them to giveorders as to the course of the ship, "that you will let me share thisrisk with you?"

"It will be wiser not. You are a strong man, an' sometimes fierce tobehold. They will want to fight you; then up go your blood, an' youwill want to fight them. "

"No, indeed, I won't, " said Orlando earnestly. 

"I will promise to go in the spirit of a missionary. You know howanxious I am to get news of my dear father. How could you expect me toremain idle on board this vessel, when my soul is so troubled? You maydepend on me, Waroonga. I will do exactly as you bid me, and will placemyself peaceably in the power of natives--leaving the result, as youadvise, to God. "

The young man's tone was so earnest, and withal so humble, that Waroongacould not help acceding to his request. 

"Well, well, " said Captain Fitzgerald, when he heard of it; "you seemboth to be bent on making martyrs of yourselves, but I will offer noopposition. All I can say is that I shall have my guns in readiness, and if I see anything like foul play, I'll bombard the place, and landan armed force to do what I can for you. "

Soon the frigate came in sight of Ongoloo's village, ran close in, brought up in a sheltered bay, and lowered a boat while the nativescrowded the beach in vast numbers, uttering fierce cries, brandishingclubs and spears, and making other warlike demonstrations--for thesepoor people had been more than once visited by so-called merchantships--the crews of which had carried off some of them by force. 

"We will not let a living man touch our shore, " said Ongoloo to Wapoota, who chanced to be near his leader, when he marshalled his men. 

"Oh! yes, we will, chief, " replied the brown humorist. "We will letsome of them touch it, and then we will take them up carefully, and havethem baked. A long-pig supper will do us good. The rest of them wewill drive back to their big canoe. "

By the term "long-pig" Wapoota referred to the resemblance that a nakedwhite man when prepared for roasting bears to an ordinary pig. 

A grim smile lit up Ongoloo's swarthy visage as he replied--

"Yes, we will permit a few fat ones to land. The rest shall die, forwhite men are thieves. They deceived us last time. They shall neverdeceive us again. "

As this remark might have been meant for a covert reference to his ownthievish tendencies, Wapoota restrained his somewhat ghastly humour, while the chief continued his arrangements for repelling the invaders. 

Meanwhile, these invaders were getting into the boat. 

"What! you's not goin' widout me?" exclaimed Ebony, as one of thesailors thrust him aside from the gangway. 

"I fear we are, " said Orlando, as he was about to descend the vessel'sside. "It was as much as I could do to get Waroonga to agree to let mego with him. "

"But dis yar nigger kin die in a good cause as well as you, massa, " saidEbony, in a tone of entreaty so earnest that the men standing near couldnot help laughing. 

"Now then, make haste, " sang out the officer in charge of the boat. 

Orlando descended, and the negro, turning away with a deeply injuredexpression, walked majestically to the stern to watch the boat. 

Waroonga had prepared himself for the enterprise by stripping off everyarticle of clothing save a linen cloth round his loins, and he carriednothing whatever with him except a small copy of God's Word printed inthe language of the islanders. This, as the boat drew near to shore, hefastened on his head, among the bushy curls of his crisp black hair, asin a nest. 

Orlando had clothed himself in a pair of patched old canvas trousers, and a much worn unattractive cotton shirt. 

"Stop now, " said the missionary, when the boat was about five or sixhundred yards from the beach. "Are you ready?"

"Ready, " said Orlando. 

"Then come. "

He dropped quietly over the side and swam towards the shore. Orlando, following his example, was alongside of him in a few seconds. 

Both men were expert and rapid swimmers. The natives watched them inabsolute silence and open-mouthed surprise. 

A few minutes sufficed to carry the swimmers to the beach. 

"Have your rifles handy, lads, " said the officer in charge of the boatto his men. 

"Stand by, " said the captain of the "Furious" to the men at the guns. 

But these precautions were unnecessary, for when the swimmers landed andwalked up the beach they were seen by the man-of-war's-men to shakehands with the chief of the savages, and, after what appeared to be abrief palaver, to rub noses with him. Then the entire host turned andled the visitors towards the village. 

With a heart almost bursting from the combined effects ofdisappointment, humiliation, and grief, poor Ebony stood at the stern ofthe man-of-war, his arms crossed upon his brawny chest, and his greateyes swimming in irrepressible tears, a monstrous bead of which wouldevery now and then overflow its banks and roll down his sable cheek. 

Suddenly the heart-stricken negro clasped his hands together, bowed hishead, and dropped into the sea!

The captain, who had seen him take the plunge, leaped to the stern, andsaw him rise from the water, blow like a grampus, and strike out forland with the steady vigour of a gigantic frog. 

"Pick him up!" shouted the captain to the boat, which was by that timereturning to the ship. 

"Ay, ay, sir, " was the prompt reply. 

The boat was making straight for the negro and he for it. Neitherdiverged from the straight course. 

"Two of you in the bow, there, get ready to haul him in, " said theofficer. 

Two sturdy sailors drew in their oars, got up, and leaned over the bowwith outstretched arms. Ebony looked at them, bestowed on them atremendous grin, and went down with the oily ease of a northern seal!

When next seen he was full a hundred yards astern of the boat, stillheading steadily for the shore. 

"Let him go!" shouted the captain. 

"Ay, ay, sir, " replied the obedient officer. 

And Ebony went!

Meanwhile our missionary, having told the wondering savages that hebrought them _good news_, was conducted with his companion to Ongoloo'shut. But it was plain that the good news referred to, and even Waroongahimself, had not nearly so great an effect on them as the sight ofOrlando, at whom they gazed with an expression half of fear and half ofawe which surprised him exceedingly. 

"Your story is not new to us, " said Ongoloo, addressing the missionary, but gazing at Orlando, "it comes to us like an old song. "

"How so?" exclaimed Waroonga, "has any one been here before with thegrand and sweet story of Jesus and His love. "

The reply of the savage chief was strangely anticipated and checked atthat moment by a burst of childish voices singing one of the beautifulhymns with which the inhabitants of Ratinga had long been familiar. Asthe voices swelled in a chorus, which distance softened into fairy-likestrains, the missionary and his companion sat entranced and bewildered, while the natives looked pleased, and appeared to enjoy theirperplexity. 

"Our little ones, " said Ongoloo, after a few minutes' pause, "areamusing themselves with singing. They often do that. "

As he spoke the party were startled and surprised by the suddenappearance of Ebony, who quietly stalked into the circle and seatedhimself beside the missionary with the guilty yet defiant air of a manwho knows that he has done wrong, but is resolved at all hazards to havehis way. Considering the turn that affairs had taken, neither Orlandonor Waroonga were sorry to see him. 

"This is a friend, " said the latter in explanation, laying his hand onthe negro's shoulder. "But tell me, chief, we are impatient for toknow, where learned you that song?"

"From one who is mad, " replied the chief still gazing earnestly atOrlando. 

"Mad!" repeated the youth, starting up and trembling withexcitement--"how know you that? Who--where is he? Ask him, Waroonga. "

The explanation that followed left no doubt on Orlando's mind that hisfather was bereft of reason, and wandering in the neighbouring mountain. 

If there had been any doubt, it would have been swept away by the chief, who quietly said, "the madman is _your father_!"

"How does he know that Waroonga?"

"I know, because there is no difference between you, except years--and--"

He did not finish the sentence, but touched his forehead solemnly withhis finger. 

"Does he dwell alone in the mountains?" asked Orlando. 

"Yes, alone. He lets no one approach him, " answered Ongoloo. 

"Now, Waroonga, " said Orlando, "our prayers have been heard, and--atleast partly--answered. But we must proceed with caution. You mustreturn on board and tell Captain Fitzgerald that I go to search for myfather _alone_. "

"Wid the help ob dis yar nigger, " interposed Ebony. 

"Tell him on no account to send men in search of me, " continued Orlando, paying no attention to the interruption; "and in the meantime, you knowhow to explain my purpose to the natives. Adieu. "

Rising quickly, he left the assembly and, followed modestly but closelyby the unconquerable negro, set off with rapid strides towards themountains. 

CHAPTER ELEVEN. 

When Zeppa, as related in a previous chapter, staggered up the mountainside with Richard Rosco in his arms, his great strength was all butexhausted, and it was with the utmost difficulty that he succeeded atlast, before night-fall, in laying his burden on the couch in his cave. 

Then, for the first time, he seemed to have difficulty in deciding whatto do. Now, at last, the pirate was in his power--he could do to himwhat he pleased! As he thought thus he turned a look of fierceindignation upon him. But, even as he gazed, the look faded, and wasreplaced by one of pity, for he could not help seeing that the wretchedman was suffering intolerable anguish, though no murmur escaped from histightly-compressed lips. 

"Slay me, in God's name, kill me at once, Zeppa, " he gasped, "and put meout of torment. "

"Poor man! poor Rosco!" returned the madman in a gentle voice, "Ithought to have punished thee, but God wills it otherwise. "

He said no more, but rose hastily and went into the bush. Returning ina few moments with a bundle of herbs, he gathered some sticks andkindled a fire. A large earthenware pot stood close to the side of thecave's entrance--a clumsy thing, made by himself of some sort of clay. This he filled with water, put the herbs in, and set it on the fire. Soon he had a poultice spread on a broad leaf which, when it was cold, he applied to one of the pirate's dreadfully burnt feet. Then he spreadanother poultice, with which he treated the other foot. 

What the remedy was that Zeppa made use of on this occasion is bestknown to himself; we can throw no light on the subject. Neither can wesay whether the application was or was not in accordance with thepractice of the faculty, but certain it is that Rosco's sufferings wereimmediately assuaged, and he soon fell into a tranquil sleep. 

Not so the madman, who sat watching by his couch. Poor Zeppa's physicalsufferings and exertion had proved too much for him; the strain on hisshattered nerves had been too severe, and a burning fever was now ragingwithin him, so that the delirium consequent on disease began to mingle, so to speak, with his insanity. 

He felt that something unusual was going on within him. He tried torestrain himself, and chain down his wandering, surging thoughts, butthe more he sought to hold himself down, the more did a demon--whoseemed to have been especially appointed for the purpose--cast hismental fastenings adrift. 

At last he took it into his head that the slumbering pirate hadbewitched him. As this idea gained ground and the internal firesincreased, the old ideas of revenge returned, and he drew the knifewhich hung at his belt, gazing furtively at the sleeper as he did so. 

But the better nature within the man maintained a fierce conflict withthe worse. 

"He murdered my son--my darling Orley!" murmured the madman, as he feltthe keen edge and point of his knife, and crept towards the sleeper, while a fitful flicker of the dying fire betrayed the awful light thatseemed to blaze in his eyes. "He carried me from my home! He leftMarie to die in hopeless grief! Ha! ha! ha! Oh God! keep me back--backfrom _this_. "

The noise awoke Rosco, who sat up and gazed at Zeppa in horror, for hesaw at a glance that a fit of his madness must have seized him. 

"Zeppa!" he exclaimed, raising himself with difficulty on both hands, and gazing sternly in the madman's face. 

"Ha!" exclaimed the latter, suddenly throwing his knife on the groundwithin Rosco's reach, "see, I scorn to take advantage of your unarmedcondition. Take that and defend yourself. I will content myself withthis. "

He caught up the heavy staff which he was in the habit of carrying withhim in his mountain rambles. At the same instant Rosco seized the knifeand flung it far into the bush. 

"See! I am still unarmed, " he said. 

"True, but you are not the less guilty, Rosco, and you must die. It ismy duty to kill you. "

He advanced with the staff up-raised. 

"Stay! Let us consider before you strike. Are you not a self-appointedexecutioner?"

The question was well put. The madman lowered the staff to consider. Instantly the pirate made a plunge at and caught it. Zeppa strove towrench it from his grasp, but the pirate felt that his life might dependon his retaining hold, and, in his extremity, was endued with almostsupernatural strength. In the fierce struggles that ensued, the embersof the fire were scattered, and the spot reduced to almost totaldarkness. During the unequal conflict, the pirate, who could only getupon his knees, was swept and hurled from side to side, but still hegrasped the staff with vice-like power to his breast. Even in thatfearful moment the idea, which had already occurred to him, of humouringhis antagonist gained force. He suddenly loosed his hold. Zeppastaggered backward, recovered himself, sprang forward, and aimed afearful blow at his adversary, who suddenly fell flat down. The staffpassed harmlessly over him and was shattered to pieces on the side ofthe cave. 

"Ha! ha!" laughed the pirate lightly, as he sat up again, "you see, Zeppa, that Providence is against you. How else could I, a helplesscripple, have held my own against you? And see, the very weapon youmeant to use is broken to pieces. Come now, delay this execution for alittle, and let us talk together about this death which you think isdue. There is much to be said about death, you know, and I should liketo get to understand it better before I experience it. "

"There is reason in that, Rosco, " said Zeppa, sitting down on the groundby the side of the pirate, and leaning his back against the rock. "Youhave much need to consider death, for after death comes the judgment, and none of us can escape _that_. "

"True, Zeppa, and I should not like to face that just now, for I am notfit to die, although, as you truly say, I deserve death. I have nohesitation in admitting that, " returned the pirate, with somebitterness; "I deserve to die, body and soul, and, after all, I don'tsee why I should seek so earnestly to delay the righteous doom. "

"Right, Rosco, right; you talk sense now, the doom is well deserved. Why, then, try to prevent me any longer from inflicting it when you knowit is my duty to do so?"

"Because, " continued the pirate, who felt that to maintain the conflicteven with words was too much for his exhausted strength, "because I haveheard that God is merciful. "

"Merciful!" echoed Zeppa. "Of course He is. Have you not heard thatHis mercy is so great that He has provided a way of escape for sinners--through faith in His own dear Son?"

"It does not, however, seem to be a way of escape for _me_, " said thepirate, letting himself sink back on his couch with a weary sigh. 

"Yes, it is! yes, it is!" exclaimed Zeppa eagerly, as he got upon thefamiliar theme; "the offer is to the chief of sinners, `Whosoever will, '`Turn ye, turn ye, for why will ye die?'"

"Tell me about it" said Rosco faintly, as the other paused. 

Zeppa had delayed a moment in order to think for his disordered mind hadbeen turned into a much-loved channel, that of preaching the Gospel toinquiring sinners. For many years he had been training himself in theknowledge of the Scriptures, and, being possessed of a good memory, hehad got large portions of it by heart. Gathering together the embers ofthe scattered fire, he sat down again, and, gazing thoughtfully at theflickering flames, began to point out the way of salvation to thepirate. 

Sleep--irresistible sleep--gradually overcame the latter; still theformer went on repeating long passages of God's word. At last he put aquestion, and, not receiving an answer, looked earnestly into the faceof his enemy. 

"Ah! poor man. He sleeps. God cannot wish me to slay him until I havemade him understand the gospel. I will delay--till to-morrow. "

Before the morrow came Zeppa had wandered forth among the cliffs andgorges of his wild home, with the ever-increasing fires of fever ragingin his veins. 

Sometimes his madness took the form of wildest fury, and, grasping somebush or sapling that might chance to be near, he would struggle with itas with a fiend until utter exhaustion caused him to fall prostrate onthe ground, where he would lie until partial rest and internal fire gavehim strength again to rise. At other times he would run up and down thebills like a greyhound, bounding from rock to rock, and across chasmswhere one false step would have sent him headlong to destruction. 

Frequently he ran down to the beach and plunged into the sea, where hewould swim about aimlessly until exhaustion sent him to the shore, wherehe would fall down, as at other times, and rest--if such repose could beso styled. 

Thus he continued fighting for his life for several days. 

During that time Richard Rosco lay in the cave almost starving. 

At first he had found several cocoa-nuts, the hard shells of which hadbeen broken by Zeppa, and appeased his hunger with these, but when theywere consumed, he sought about the cave for food in vain. Fortunatelyhe found a large earthenware pot--evidently a home-made one--nearly fullof water, so that he was spared the agony of thirst as well as hunger. 

When he had scraped the shells of the cocoa-nuts perfectly clean, thepirate tried to crawl forth on hands and knees, to search for food, hisfeet being in such a state that it was not possible for him to stand, much less to walk. But Zeppa had long ago cleared away all the wildfruits that grew in the neighbourhood of his cave, so that he foundnothing save a few wild berries. Still, in his condition, even thesewere of the utmost value: they helped to keep him alive. Another nightpassed, and the day came. He crept forth once more, but was so weakenedby suffering and want that he could not extend his explorations so faras before, and was compelled to return without having tasted a mouthful. Taking a long draught of water, he lay down, as he firmly believed, todie. 

And as he lay there his life rose up before him as an avenging angel, and the image of his dead mother returned with a reproachful yet anappealing look in her eyes. He tried to banish the one and to turn histhoughts from the other, but failed, and at last in an agony of remorse, shouted the single word "Guilty!"

It seemed as if the cry had called Zeppa from the world of spirits--towhich Rosco believed he had fled--for a few minutes afterwards themadman approached his mountain-home, with the blood still boiling in hisveins. Apparently he had forgotten all about the pirate, for he wasstartled on beholding him. 

"What! still there? I thought I had killed you. "

"I wish you had, Zeppa. It would have been more merciful than leavingme to die of hunger here. "

"Are you prepared to die now?"

"Yes, but for God's sake give me something to eat first. After that Icare not what you do to me. "

"Miserable man, death is sufficient for you. I have neither command nordesire to torture. You shall have food immediately. "

So saying, Zeppa re-entered the bush. In less than half-an-hour hereturned with several cocoa-nuts and other fruits, of which Roscopartook with an avidity that told its own tale. 

"Now, " said Zeppa, rising, when Rosco had finished, "have you hadenough?"

"No, " said the pirate, quickly, "not half enough. Go, like a goodfellow, and fetch me more. "

Zeppa rose at once and went away. While he was gone the fear of beingmurdered again took possession of Rosco. He felt that his last hour wasapproaching, and, in order to avoid his doom if possible, crawled awayamong the bushes and tried to hide himself. He was terribly weak, however, and had not got fifty yards away when he fell down utterlyexhausted. 

He heard Zeppa return to the cave, and listened with beating heart. 

"Hallo! where are you?" cried the madman. 

Then, receiving no answer, he burst into a long, loud fit of laughter, which seemed to freeze the very marrow in the pirate's bones. 

"Ha! ha!" he shouted, again and again, "I knew you were a dream, I feltsure of it--ha! ha! and now this proves it. And I'm glad you were adream, for I did not want to kill you, Rosco, though I thought it myduty to do so. It was a dream--thank God, it was all a dream!"

Zeppa did not end again with wild laughter, but betook himself toearnest importunate prayer, during which Rosco crept, by slow degrees, farther and farther away, until he could no longer hear the sound of hisenemy's voice. 

Now, it was while this latter scene had been enacting, that Orlando andthe faithful negro set out on their search into the mountain. 

At first they did not speak, and Ebony, not feeling sure how his youngmaster relished his company, kept discreetly a pace or two in rear. After they had crossed the plain, however, and begun to scale the steepsides of the hills, his tendency towards conversation could not berestrained. 

"Does you t'ink, Massa Orley, that hims be you fadder?"

"I think so, Ebony, indeed I feel almost sure of it. "

Thus encouraged, the negro ranged up alongside. 

"An' does you t'ink hims mad?"

"I hope not. I pray not; but I fear that he--"

"Hims got leettle out ob sorts, " said the sympathetic Ebony, suggestinga milder state of things. 

As Orlando did not appear to derive much consolation from thesuggestion, Ebony held his tongue for a few minutes. 

Presently his attention was attracted to a sound in the underwood nearthem. 

"Hist! Massa Orley. I hear somet'ing. "

"So do I, Ebony, " said the youth, pausing for a moment to listen; "itmust be some sort of bird, for there can be no wild animals left by thenatives in so small an island. "

As he spoke something like a low moan was heard. The negro's mouthopened, and the whites of his great eyes seemed to dilate. 

"If it _am_ a bird, massa, hims got a mos' awful voice. Mus' havecotched a drefful cold!"

The groan was repeated as he spoke, and immediately after they observeda large, sluggish-looking animal, advancing through the underwood. 

"What a pity we's not got a gun!" whispered Ebony. "If we's only had aspear or a pitchfork, it's besser than nuffin. "

"Lucky that you have nothing of the sort, else you'd commit murder, "said Orlando, advancing. "Don't you see--it is a man!"

The supposed animal started as the youth spoke, and rose on his kneeswith a terribly haggard and anxious look. 

"Richard Rosco!" exclaimed Orley, who recognised the pirate at the firstglance. 

But Rosco did not reply. He, too, had recognised Orley, despite thechange in his size and appearance, and believed him to be a visitantfrom the other world, an idea which was fostered by the furthersupposition that Ebony was the devil keeping him company. 

Orlando soon relieved him, however. The aspect of the pirate, sohaggard and worn out, as he crawled on his hands and knees, was sodreadful that a flood of pity rushed into his bosom. 

"My poor fellow, " he said, going forward and laying his hand gently onhis shoulder, "this is indeed a most unexpected, most amazing sight. How came you here?"

"Then you were not drowned?" gasped the pirate, instead of answering thequestion. 

"No, thank God. I was not drowned, " said Orley, with a sad smile. "Butagain I ask, How came you here?"

"Never mind me, " said Rosco hurriedly, "but go to your father. "

"My father! Do you know, then, where he is?" cried Orlando, with suddenexcitement. 

"Yes. He is up there--not far off. I have just escaped from him. Heis bent on taking my life. He saved me from the savages. He is mad--with fever--and stands terribly in need of help. "

Bewildered beyond expression by these contradictory statements, Orlandomade no attempt to understand, but exclaimed--

"Can you guide us to him?"

"You see, " returned the pirate sadly, "I cannot even rise to my feet. The savages were burning me alive when your father came to my rescue. The flesh is dropping from the bones. I cannot help you. "

"Kin you git on my back?" asked Ebony. "You's a good lift, but I'sawful strong. "

"I will try, " returned Rosco, "but you will have to protect me fromZeppa if he sees me, for he is bent on taking my life. He thinks thatyou were drowned--as, indeed, so did I--the time that you were thrownoverboard without my knowledge--mind that, _without my knowledge_--andyour father in his madness thinks he is commissioned by God to avengeyour death. Perhaps, when he sees you alive, he may change his mind, but there is no depending on one who is delirious with fever. He willprobably still be in the cave when we reach it. "

"We will protect you. Get up quickly, and show us the way to the cave. "

In a moment the stout negro had the pirate on his broad shoulders, and, under his guidance, mounted the slightly-marked path that led to Zeppa'sretreat. 

No words were spoken by the way. Orlando was too full of anxiousanticipation to speak. The negro was too heavily weighted to care aboutconversation just then, and Rosco suffered so severely from the roughmotions of his black steed that he was fain to purse his lips tightly toprevent a cry of pain. 

On reaching the neighbourhood of the cave the pirate whispered to Ebonyto set him down. 

"You will come in sight of the place the moment you turn round yondercliff. It is better that I should remain here till the meeting is over. I hear no sound, but doubtless Zeppa is lying down by this time. "

The negro set his burden on the ground, and Rosco crept slowly into thebush to hide, while the others hurried forward in the direction pointedout to them. 

CHAPTER TWELVE. 

No sooner had Orlando and the negro passed round the cliff to whichRosco had directed them, than they beheld a sight which was wellcalculated to fill them with anxiety and alarm, for there stood Zeppa, panting and wrestling with one of the fiends that were in the habit ofassailing him. 

The fiend, on this occasion, was familiar enough to him--the stoutbranch of a tree which overhung his cave, but which his delirious brainhad transformed into a living foe. No shout or cry issued from the poorman's compressed lips. He engaged in the deadly struggle with thatsilent resolve of purpose which was natural to him. The disease underwhich he laboured had probably reached its climax, for he swayed to andfro, in his futile efforts to wrench off the limb, with a degree ofenergy that seemed more than human. His partially naked limbs showedthe knotted muscles standing out rigidly; his teeth were clenched andexposed; his blood-shot eyes glared; the long, curling and matted hairof his head and beard was flying about in wild disorder; and hislabouring chest heaved as he fiercely, silently, and hopelesslystruggled. 

Oh! it was a terrible picture to be presented thus suddenly to the gazeof a loving son. 

"Stay where you are, Ebony. I must meet him alone, " whispered Orlando. 

Then, hastening forward with outstretched arms, he exclaimed--

"Father!"

Instantly Zeppa let go his supposed enemy and turned round. The changein his aspect was as wonderful as it was sudden. The old, loving, gentle expression overspread his features, and the wild fire seemed todie out of his eyes as he held out both hands. 

"Ah! once more, my son!" he said, in the tenderest of tones. "Come tome. This is kind of you, Orley, to return so soon again; I had notexpected you for a long time. Sit down beside me, and lay your headupon my knee--so--I like to have you that way, for I see you better. "

"Oh, father--dear father!" said Orlando, but the words were choked inhis throat, and tears welled from his eyes. 

"Yes, Orley?" said Zeppa, with a startled look of joyful surprise, whilehe turned his head a little to one side, as if listening in expectancy;"speak again, dear boy; speak again. I have often seen you since youwent to the spirit-land, but have never heard you speak till to-day. Speak once more, dear boy!"

But Orley could not speak. He could only hide his face in his father'sbosom and sob aloud. 

"Nay, don't cry, lad; you never did that before! What do you mean?That is unmanly. Not like what my courageous boy was wont to be. Andyou have grown so much since last I saw you. Why, you've even got abeard! Who ever heard of a bearded man sobbing like a child? And now Ilook at you closely I see that you have grown wonderfully tall. It isvery strange--but all things seem strange since I came here. Only, inall the many visits you have paid me, I have never seen you changed tillto-day. You have always come to me in the old boyish form. Very, _very_ strange! But, Orley, my boy" (and here Zeppa's voice becameintensely earnest and pleading), "you won't leave me again, will you?Surely they can well spare you from the spirit-world for a time--just alittle while. It would fill my heart with such joy and gratitude. AndI'm your father, Orley, surely I have a right to you--more right thanthe angels have--haven't I? and then it would give such joy, if you cameback, to your dear mother, whom I have not seen for so long--so verylong!"

"I will _never_ leave you, father, _never_!" cried Orlando, throwing hisarms round Zeppa's neck and embracing him passionately. 

"Nay, then, you _are_ going to leave me, " cried Zeppa, with suddenalarm, as he clasped Orlando to him with an iron grip. "You alwaysembrace me when you are about to vanish out of my sight. But you shallnot escape me _this_ time. I have got you tighter than I ever had youbefore, and no fiend shall separate us now. No fiend!" he repeated in ashout, glaring at a spot in the bushes where Ebony, unable to restrainhis feelings, had unwittingly come into sight. 

Suddenly changing his purpose, Zeppa let go his son and sprang like atiger on the supposed fiend. Ebony went down before him like a bulrushbefore the hurricane, but, unlike it, he did not rise again. The madmanhad pinned him to the earth and was compressing his throat with bothhands. It required all the united strength of his son and the negro toloosen his grasp, and even that would not have sufficed had not theterrible flame which had burned so long died out. It seemed to havebeen suddenly extinguished by this last burst of fury, for Zeppa fellback as helpless as an infant in their hands. Indeed he lay so stillwith his eyes closed that Orlando trembled with fear lest he should bedying. 

"Now, Ebony, " said he, taking the negro apart, when they had made theexhausted man as comfortable as possible on his rude couch in the cave;"you run down to the ship and fetch the doctor here without delay. Iwill be able to manage him easily when alone. Run as you never ranbefore. Don't let any soul come here except the doctor and yourself. Tell the captain I have found him--through God's mercy--but that he isvery ill and must be carefully kept from excitement and that in themeantime nobody is to disturb us. The doctor will of course fetchphysic; and tell him to bring his surgical instruments also, for, if Imistake not, poor Rosco needs his attention. Do you bring up as much inthe way of provisions as you can carry, and one or two blankets. And, harkee, make no mention of the pirate to any one. Away!"

During the delivery of this message, the negro listened eagerly, andstood quite motionless, like a black statue, with the exception of hisglittering eyes. 

"Yes, massa, " he said at its conclusion, and almost literally vanishedfrom the scene. 

Orlando then turned to his father. The worn out man still lay perfectlyquiet, with closed eyes, and countenance so pale that the dread ofapproaching death again seized on the son. The breathing was, however, slow and regular, and what appeared to be a slight degree of moisturelay on the brow. The fact that the sick man slept soon became apparent, and when Orlando had assured himself of this he arose, left the cavewith careful tread, and glided, rather than walked, back to the placewhere the pirate had been left. There he still lay, apparently muchexhausted. 

"We have found him, thank God, " said Orlando, seating himself on a bank;"and I would fain hope that the worst is over, for he sleeps. But, poorfellow, you seem to be in a bad case. Can I do aught to relieve you?"

"Nothing, " replied Rosco, with a weary sigh. 

"I have sent for a surgeon--"

"A surgeon!" repeated the pirate, with a startled look; "then there mustbe a man-of-war off the coast for South sea traders are not used tocarry surgeons. "

"Ah! I forgot. You naturally don't wish to see any one connected witha man-of-war. Yes, there is one here. I came in her. But you can seethis surgeon without his knowing who or what you are. It will besufficient for him to know that you are an unfortunate sailor who hadfallen into the hands of the savages. "

"Yes, " exclaimed Rosco, grasping eagerly at the idea; "and that's justwhat I am. Moreover, I ran away from my ship! But--but--do _you_ notfeel it your duty to give me up?"

"What I shall feel it my duty to do ultimately is not a matter forpresent consideration. Just now you require surgical assistance. Buthow did you come here? and what do you mean by saying that you ran awayfrom your ship?"

Rosco in reply gave a brief but connected narrative of his career duringthe past three years, in which he made no attempt to exculpate himself, but, on the contrary, confessed his guilt and admitted his desert ofdeath. 

"Yet I shrink from death, " he said in conclusion. "Is it not strangethat I, who have faced death so often with perfect indifference, shoulddraw back from it now with something like fear?"

"A great writer, " replied Orlando, "whom my father used to read to me athome, says that `conscience makes cowards of us all. ' And a stillgreater authority says that `the wicked flee when no man pursueth. ' Youare safe here, Rosco--at all events for the present. But you must notgo near the cave again. Rest where you are and I will search for someplace where you may remain concealed till you are well. I shall returnquickly. "

Leaving the pirate where he lay, Orlando returned to his father, and, finding that he still slept, went off to search for a cave. 

He soon found a small one in the cliffs, suitable for his purpose. Thither he carried the pirate, laid him tenderly on a couch of branchesand leaves, put food and water within his reach, and left him with afeeling of comfort and of contentment at heart that he had notexperienced for many years. 

That night the surgeon of the "Furious" ascended to the mountain cave. His approach was made known to Orlando, as he watched at the sick man'sside, by the appearance of Ebony's great eyes glittering at him over thebushes that encircled the cave's mouth. No wonder that poor Zeppa hadmistaken him for a demon! Holding up a finger of caution, Orlandoglided towards him, seized his arm, and, after leading him to a safedistance, asked in a low voice--

"Well, have you brought the doctor?"

"Ho, yis, massa, an' I bring Tomeo and Buttchee too. "

"Didn't I tell you to let no one else come near us?" said Orlando in atone of vexation. 

"Dat's true, massa, but I no kin stop dem. So soon as dey hear datAntonio Zeppa am found, sick in de mountains, dey swore dey mus' go seehim. I say dat you say no! Dey say dey not care. I say me knock 'embofe down. Dey say dey turn me hinside hout if I don't ole my tongue. What could dis yar nigger do? Dey's too much for me. So dey follered, and here dey am wid de doctor, waiting about two hun'rd yards down derefor leave to come. But, I say, massa, dey's good sort o' fellers afterall--do whatever you tells 'em. Good for go messages, p'raps, an savedis yar nigger's poor legs. "

Ebony made the latter suggestion with a grin so broad that in thedarkness his face became almost luminous with teeth and gums. 

"Well, I suppose we must make the most of the circumstances, " saidOrlando. "Come, lead me to them. "

It was found that though the strong affection of the two chiefs forZeppa had made them rebellious in the matter of visiting the spot, thesame affection, and their regard for Orlando, rendered them submissiveas lambs, and willing to do absolutely whatever they were told. 

Orlando, therefore, had no difficulty in prevailing on them to delaytheir visit to his father till the following day. Meanwhile, he causedthem to encamp in a narrow pass close at hand, and, the better toreconcile them to their lot, imposed upon them the duty of mountingguard each alternate couple of hours during the night. 

"He will do well, " said the doctor, after examining the patient. "Thissleep is life to him. I will give him something when he awakes, but theawaking must be left to nature. Whether he recovers his reason afterwhat he has passed through remains to be seen. You say he has beenwandering for some time here in a state of insanity? How came thatabout?"

"It is a long and sad story, doctor, " said Orlando, evading thequestion, "and I have not time to tell it now, for I want you to visitanother patient. "

"Another patient?" repeated the surgeon, in surprise; "ah! one of thenatives, I suppose?"

"No, a white man. He is a sailor who ran away from his ship, and wascaught by the natives and tortured. "

"Come, then, let us go and see the poor fellow at once. Does he livefar from here?"

"Close at hand, " answered Orlando, as he led the way; "and perhaps, doctor, it would be well not to question the poor man at present as tohis being here and in such a plight. He seems very weak and ill. "

When the surgeon had examined Rosco's feet he led Orlando aside. 

"It is a bad case, " he said; "both legs must be amputated below the kneeif the man's life is to be saved. "

"Must it be done now?"

"Immediately. Can you assist me?"

"I have assisted at amateur operations before now, " said Orlando, "andat all events you can count on the firmness of my nerves and on blindobedience. But stay--I must speak to him first, alone. "

"Rosco, " said the youth, as he knelt by the pirate's couch, "your sinshave been severely punished, and your endurance sorely tried--"

"Not more than I deserve, Orlando. "

"But I grieve to tell you that your courage must be still further tried. The doctor says that both feet must be amputated. "

A frown gathered on the pirate's face, and he compressed his lips for afew moments. 

"And the alternative?" he asked. 

"Is death. "

Again there was a brief pause. Then he said slowly, almost bitterly--

"Oh, death! you have hovered over my head pretty steadily of late! Itis a question whether I had not better let you come on and end theseweary struggles, rather than become a hopeless cripple in the prime oflife! Why should I fear death now more than before?"

"Have you any hope of eternal life, Rosco?"

"How can _I_ tell? What do _I_ know about eternal life!"

"Then you are not prepared to die; and let me earnestly assure you thatthere _is_ something well worth living for, though at present you donot--you _cannot_ know it. "

"Enough. Let it be as the doctor advises, " said the pirate in a tone ofresignation. 

That night the operation was successfully performed, and the unfortunateman was afterwards carefully tended by Ebony. 

Next day Tomeo and Buttchee were told that their old friend Zeppa couldnot yet be seen, but that he required many little comforts from the"Furious, " which must be brought up with as little delay as possible. That was sufficient. Forgetting themselves in their anxiety to aidtheir friend, these affectionate warriors went off on their mission, andwere soon out of sight. 

When Zeppa awoke at last with a deep sigh, it was still dark. This wasfortunate, for he could not see whose hand administered the physic, andwas too listless and weak to inquire. It was bright day when he awokethe second time and looked up inquiringly in his son's face. 

"What, are you still there, Orley?" he said faintly, while the habitualsweet expression stole over his pale features, though it was quicklyfollowed by the perplexed look. "But how comes this change? You lookso much older than you are, dear boy. Would God that I could cease thisdreaming!"

"You are not dreaming _now_, father. I am indeed Orley. You have beenill and delirious, but, thanks be to God, are getting well again. "

"What?" exclaimed the invalid; "has it been all a dream, then? Were you_not_ thrown into the sea by mutineers, and have I _not_ been wanderingfor months or years on a desert island? But then, if these things beall dreams, " he added, opening his eyes wide and fixing them intently onOrlando's face, "how comes it that I still dream the change in _you_?You are Orley, yet not Orley! How is that?"

"Yes, all that is true, dear, _dear_ father, " said the youth, gentlyclasping one of the helpless hands that lay crossed on Zeppa's broadchest; "I _was_ thrown overboard by the mutineers years ago, but, thankGod, I was not drowned; and you have been wandering here in--in--veryill, for years; but, thank God again, you are better, and I have beenmercifully sent to deliver you. "

"I can't believe it, Orley, for I have so often seen you, and you haveso often given me the slip--yet there does seem something very realabout you just now--very real, though so changed--yet it is the samevoice, and you never _spoke_ to me before in my dreams--except once. Yes, I think it was once, that you spoke. I remember it well, for thesound sent such a thrill to my heart. Oh! God forbid that it shouldagain fade away as it has done so often!"

"It will not fade, father. The time you speak of was only yesterday, when I found you. You have been sleeping since, and a doctor isattending you. "

"A doctor! where did _he_ come from?"

At that moment Ebony approached with some food in a tin pan. Theinvalid observed him at once. 

"Ebony! can that be you? Why--when--oh! my poor brain feels so light--it seems as if a puff of wind would blow it away. I must have been veryill. " Zeppa spoke feebly, and closed his eyes, from which one or twotears issued--blessed tears!--the first he had shed for many a day. 

"His reason is restored, " whispered the doctor in Orlando's ear, "but hemust be left to rest. "

Orlando's heart was too full to find relief through the lips. 

"I cannot understand it at all, " resumed Zeppa, reopening his eyes;"least of all can I understand _you_, Orley, but my hope is in God. Iwould sleep now, but you must not let go my hand. " (Orlando held ittighter. ) "One word more. Your dear mother?"

"Is well--and longs to see you. "

A profound, long-drawn sigh followed, as if an insupportable burden hadbeen removed from the wearied soul, and Zeppa sank into a sleep sopeaceful that it seemed as if the spirit had forsaken the worn outframe. But a steady, gentle heaving of the chest told that life wasstill there. During the hours that followed, Orlando sat quitemotionless, like a statue, firmly grasping his father's hand. 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN. 

A few days after the discovery of Zeppa by his son, a trading vesselchanced to touch at the island, the captain of which no sooner saw theBritish man-of-war than he lowered his gig, went aboard in a state ofgreat excitement, and told how that, just two days before, he had beenchased by a pirate in latitude so-and-so and longitude something else!

A messenger was immediately sent in hot haste to Sugar-loaf Mountain tosummon Orlando. 

"I'm sorry to be obliged to leave you in such a hurry, " said CaptainFitzgerald, as they were about to part, "but duty calls, and I mustobey. I promise you, however, either to return here or to send yourmission-vessel for you, if it be available. Rest assured that you shallnot be altogether forsaken. "

Having uttered these words of consolation, the captain spread his sailsand departed, leaving Orlando, and his father, Waroonga, Tomeo, Buttchee, Ebony, and Rosco on Sugar-loaf Island. 

Several days after this, Waroonga entered the hut of Ongoloo and satdown. The chief was amusing himself at the time by watching his primeminister Wapoota playing with little Lippy, who had become a favouriteat the palace since Zeppa had begun to take notice of her. 

"I would palaver with the chief, " said the missionary. 

"Let Lippy be gone, " said the chief. 

Wapoota rolled the brown child unceremoniously out of the hut, andcomposed his humorous features into an expression of solemnity. 

"My brother, " continued the missionary, "has agreed to become aChristian and burn his idols?"

"Yes, " replied Ongoloo with an emphatic nod, for he was a man ofdecision. "I like to hear what you tell me. I feel that I am full ofnaughtiness. I felt that before you came here. I have done things thatI knew to be wrong, because I have been miserable after doing them--yet, when in passion, I have done them again. I have wondered why I wasmiserable. Now I know; you tell me the Great Father was whispering tomy spirit. It must be true. I have resisted Him, and He made memiserable. I deserve it. I deserve to die. When any of my men dare toresist me I kill them. I have dared to resist the Great Father, yet Hehas not killed me. Why not? you tell me He is full of love and mercyeven to His rebels! I believe it. You say, He sent His Son Jesus todie for me, and to deliver me from my sins. It is well, I accept thisSaviour--and all my people shall accept Him. "

"My brother's voice makes me glad, " returned Waroonga; "but while youcan accept this Saviour for yourself, it is not possible to force otherpeople to do so. "

"Not possible!" cried the despotic chief, with vehemence. "Do you notknow that I can force my people to do whatever I please?--at least I cankill them if they refuse. "

"You cannot do that and, at the same time, be a Christian. "

"But, " resumed Ongoloo, with a look of, so to speak, fierce perplexity, "I can at all events make them burn their idols. "

"True, but that would only make them hate you in their hearts, andperhaps worship their idols more earnestly in secret. No, my brother;there is but one weapon given to Christians, but that is a sharp andpowerful weapon. It is called Love; we must _win_ others to Christ byvoice and example, we may not drive them. It is not permitted. It isnot possible. "

The chief cast his frowning eyes on the ground, and so remained for sometime, while the missionary silently prayed. It was a critical moment. The man so long accustomed to despotic power could not easily bring hismind to understand the process of _winning_ men. He did, indeed, knowhow to win the love of his wives and children--for he was naturally ofan affectionate disposition, but as to _winning_ the obedience ofwarriors or slaves--the thing was preposterous! Yet he had sagacityenough to perceive that while he could compel the obedience of thebody--or kill it--he could not compel the obedience of the soul. 

"How can I, " he said at last, with a touch of indignation still in histone, "I, a chief and a descendant of chiefs, stoop to ask, to beg, myslaves to become Christians? It may not be, I can only command them. "

"Woh!" exclaimed Wapoota, unable to restrain his approval of thesentiment. 

"You cannot even command yourself, Ongoloo, to be a Christian. How, then, can you command others? It is the Great Father who has put itinto your heart to wish to be a Christian. If you will now take Hisplan, you will succeed. If you refuse, and try your own plan, you shallfail. "

"Stay, " cried the chief, suddenly laying such a powerful grasp onWaroonga's shoulder, that he winced; "did you not say that part of Hisplan is the forgiveness of enemies?"

"I did. "

"Must I, then, forgive the Raturans if I become a Christian?"

"Even so. "

"Then it is impossible. What! forgive the men whose forefathers havetried to rob my forefathers of their mountain since our nation firstsprang into being! Forgive the men who have for ages fought with ourfathers, and tried to make slaves of our women and children--though theyalways failed because they are cowardly dogs! Forgive the Raturans?_Never_! Impossible!"

"With man this is impossible. With the Great Father all things arepossible. Leave your heart in His hands, Ongoloo; don't refuse Hisoffer to save you from an unforgiving spirit, as well as from othersins, and that which to you seems impossible will soon become easy. "

"No--never!" reiterated the chief with decision, as he cut furtherconversation short by rising and stalking out of the hut, closelyfollowed by the sympathetic Wapoota. 

Waroonga was not much depressed by this failure. He knew that truthwould prevail in time, and did not expect that the natural enmity of manwould be overcome at the very first sound of the Gospel. He wastherefore agreeably surprised when, on the afternoon of that same day, Ongoloo entered the hut which had been set apart for him and the twoRatinga chiefs, and said--

"Come, brother, I have called a council of my warriors. Come, you shallsee the working of the Great Father. "

The missionary rose at once and went after the chief with muchcuriosity, accompanied by Tomeo and Buttchee: Zeppa and his son, withEbony and the pirate, being still in the mountains. 

Ongoloo led them to the top of a small hill on which a sacred hut ortemple stood. Here the prisoners of war used to be slaughtered, andhere the orgies of heathen worship were wont to be practised. Animmense crowd of natives--indeed the entire tribe except the sick andinfirm--crowned the hill. This, however, was no new sight to themissionary, and conveyed no hint of what was pending. 

The crowd stood in two orderly circles--the inner one consisting of thewarriors, the outer of the women and children. Both fell back to letthe chief and his party pass. 

As the temple-hut was open at one side, its interior, with the horribleinstruments of execution and torture, as well as skulls, bones, andother ghastly evidences of former murder, was exposed to view. On thecentre of the floor lay a little pile of rudely carved pieces of timber, with some loose cocoa-nut fibre beneath them. A small fire burned onsomething that resembled an altar in front of the hut. 

The chief, standing close to this fire, cleared his throat and began anaddress with the words, "Men, warriors, women and children, listen!"And they did listen with such rapt attention that it seemed as if notonly ears, but eyes, mouths, limbs, and muscles were engaged in thelistening act, for this mode of address--condescending as it did towomen and children--was quite new to them, and portended somethingunusual. 

"Since these men came here, " continued the chief, pointing to Waroongaand his friends, "we have heard many wonderful things that have made usthink. Before they came we heard some of the same wonderful things fromthe great white man, whose head is light but whose heart is wise andgood. I have made up my mind, now, to become a Christian. My warriors, my women, my children need not be told what that is. They have all gotears and have heard. I have assembled you here to see my gods burned(he pointed to the pile in the temple), and I ask all who are willing, to join me in making this fire a big one. I cannot compel your souls. I _could_ compel your bodies, but I _will_ not!"

He looked round very fiercely as he said this, as though he still hadhalf a mind to kill one or two men to prove his point, and those whostood nearest to him moved uneasily, as though they more than halfexpected him to do some mischief, but the fierce look quickly passedaway, and he went on in gentle, measured tones--

"Waroonga tells me that the Book of the Great Father says, those whobecome Christians must love each other: therefore we must no more hate, or quarrel, or fight, or kill--not even our enemies. "

There was evident surprise on every face, and a good deal of decidedshaking of heads, as if such demands were outrageous. 

"Moreover, it is expected of Christians that they shall not revengethemselves, but suffer wrong patiently. "

The eyebrows rose higher at this. 

"Still more; it is demanded that we shall _forgive_ our enemies. If webecome Christians, we must open our arms wide, and take the Raturans toour hearts!"

This was a climax, as Ongoloo evidently intended, for he paused a longtime, while loud expressions of dissent and defiance were heard on allsides, though it was not easy to see who uttered them. 

"Now, warriors, women and children, here I am--a Christian--who willjoin me?"

"I will!" exclaimed Wapoota, stepping forward with several idols in hisarms, which he tossed contemptuously into the temple. 

There was a general smile of incredulity among the warriors, for Wapootawas well known to be a time-server: nevertheless they were mistaken, forthe jester was in earnest this time. 

Immediately after that, an old, white-headed warrior, bent nearly doublewith infirmity and years, came forward and acted as Wapoota had done. Then, turning to the people, he addressed them in a weak, tremblingvoice. There was a great silence, for this was the patriarch of thetribe; had been a lion-like man in his youth, and was greatly respected. 

"I join the Christians, " he said, slowly. "Have I not lived and foughtfor long--very long?"

"Yes, yes, " from many voices. 

"And what good has come of it?" demanded the patriarch. "Have not themen of the Mountain fought with the men of the Swamp since the Mountainand the Swamp came from the hand of the Great Father?" (A pause, andagain, "Yes, yes, " from many voices. ) "And what good has come of it?Here is the Mountain; yonder is the Swamp, as they were from thebeginning; and what the better are we that the swamp has been floodedand the mountain drenched with the blood of our fathers? Hatred hasbeen tried from the beginning of time, and has failed. Let us now, mychildren, try Love, as the Great Father counsels us to do. "

A murmur of decided applause followed the old man's speech, and Ongoloo, seizing him by both shoulders, gazed earnestly into his withered face. Had they been Frenchmen, these two would no doubt have kissed eachother's cheeks; if Englishmen, they might have shaken hands warmly;being Polynesian savages, they rubbed noses. 

Under the influence of this affectionate act, a number of the warriorsran off, fetched their gods, and threw them on the temple floor. ThenOngoloo, seizing a brand from the fire, thrust it into the loosecocoa-nut fibre, and set the pile in a blaze. Quickly the flames leapedinto the temple thatch, and set the whole structure on fire. As thefire roared and leaped, Waroonga, with Tomeo and Buttchee, started ahymn. It chanced to be one which Zeppa had already taught the people, who at once took it up, and sent forth such a shout of praise as hadnever before echoed among the palm-groves of that island. It confirmedthe waverers, and thus, under the influence of sympathy, the whole tribecame that day to be of one mind!

The sweet strains, rolling over the plains and uplands, reached thecliffs at last, and struck faintly on the ears of a small groupassembled in a mountain cave. The group consisted of Zeppa and his son, Ebony and the pirate. 

"It sounds marvellously like a hymn, " said Orlando, listening. 

"Ah! dear boy, it is one I taught the natives when I stayed with them, "said Zeppa; "but it never reached so far as this before. "

Poor Zeppa was in his right mind again, but oh! how weak and wan andthin the raging fever had left him!

Rosco, who was also reduced to a mere shadow of his former self, listened to the faint sound with a troubled expression, for it carriedhim back to the days of innocence, when he sang it at his mother's knee. 

"Dat's oncommon strange, " said Ebony. "Nebber heard de sound come sofar before. Hope de scoundrils no got hold ob grog. "

"Shame on you, Ebony, to suspect such a thing!" said Orlando. "Youwould be better employed getting things ready for to-morrow's journeythan casting imputations on our hospitable friends. "

"Dar's not'ing to git ready, massa, " returned the negro. "Eberyting'sprepared to start arter breakfust. "

"That's well, and I am sure the change to the seashore will do you good, father, as well as Rosco. You've both been too long here. The cave isnot as dry as one could wish--and, then, you'll be cheered by the soundof children playing round you. "

"Yes, it will be pleasant to have Lippy running out and in again, " saidZeppa. 

They did not converse much, for the strength of both Zeppa and Rosco hadbeen so reduced that they could not even sit up long without exhaustion, but Orlando kept up their spirits by prattling away on every subjectthat came into his mind--and especially of the island of Ratinga. 

While they were thus engaged they heard the sound of rapidly approachingfootsteps, and next moment Tomeo and Buttchee bounded over the bushes, glaring and panting from the rate at which they had raced up the hill totell the wonderful news!

"Eberyting bu'nt?" exclaimed Ebony, whose eyes and teeth showed so muchwhite that his face seemed absolutely to sparkle. 

"Everything. Idols and temple!" repeated the two chiefs, in the Ratingatongue, and in the same breath. 

"An' nebber gwine to fight no more?" asked Ebony, with a grin, thatmight be more correctly described as a split, from ear to ear. 

"Never more!" replied the chiefs. 

Next morning the two invalids were tenderly conveyed on litters down themountain side and over the plain, and before the afternoon had passedaway, they found a pleasant temporary resting-place in the now Christianvillage. 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN. 

The slopes and knolls and palm-fringed cliffs of Ratinga were tippedwith gold by the western sun one evening as he declined towards his bedin the Pacific, when Marie Zeppa wandered with Betsy Waroonga and herbrown little daughter Zariffa towards the strip of bright sand in frontof the village. 

The two matrons, besides being filled with somewhat similar anxieties asto absent ones, were naturally sympathetic, and frequently sought eachother's company. The lively Anglo-French woman, whose vivacity was notaltogether subdued even by the dark cloud that hung over her husband'sfate, took special pleasure in the sedate, earnest temperament of hernative missionary friend, whose difficulty in understanding a joke, coupled with her inability to control her laughter when, after painfulexplanation, she did manage to comprehend one, was a source of muchinterest--an under-current, as it were, of quiet amusement. 

"Betsy, " said Marie, as they walked slowly along, their naked feet justlaved by the rippling sea, "why do you persist in wearing that absurdbonnet? If you would only let me cut four inches off the crown and sixoff the front, it would be much more becoming. Do let me, there's adear. You know I was accustomed to cutting and shaping when inEngland. "

"But what for the use?" asked Betsy, turning her large brown eyessolemnly on her companion. "It no seems too big to me. Besides, whenbrudder Gubbins give him to me he--"

"Who is brudder Gubbins?" asked Marie, with a look of smiling surprise. 

"Oh! _you_ know. The min'ster--Gubbins--what come to themission-station just afore me an' Waroonga left for Ratinga. "

"Oh! I see; the Reverend Mr Gubbins--well, what did _he_ say about thebonnet?"

"W'at did he say? ah! he say much mor'n I kin remember, an' he look atthe bonnet with's head a one side--so sad an' pitiful like. `Ah! BetsyWaroonga, ' ses he, `this just the thing for you. Put it on an' take itto Ratinga, it'll press the natives there. '"

"Impress them, you mean, Betsy. "

"Well, p'raps it was that. Anyhow I put it on, an' he looked at me _so_earnest an' ses with a sigh, `Betsy, ' ses he, `it minds me o' mygrandmother, an' she _was_ a good old soul--brought me up, Betsy, shedid. Wear it for her sake an' mine. I make a present of it to you. '"

"Ah! Betsy, " said Marie, "the Reverend Gubbins must be a wag, Isuspect. "

"W'at's a wag, Marie?"

"Don't you know what a wag is?"

"Oh, yis, _I_ know. When leetil bird sit on a stone an shake hims tail, I've heerd you an Orley say it wag--but misser Gubbins he got no tail towag--so how can he wag it?"

"I didn't say he wagged it, Betsy, " returned Marie, repressing a laugh, "but--you'll never get to understand what a wag means, so I won't try toexplain. Look! Zariffa is venturesome. You'd better call her back. "

Zariffa was indeed venturesome. Clad in a white flannel petticoat and aminiature coal-scuttle, she was at that moment wading so deep into theclear sea that she had to raise the little garment as high as her brownbosom to keep it out of the water; and with all her efforts she wasunsuccessful, for, with that natural tendency of childhood to forget andneglect what cannot be seen, she had allowed the rear-part of thepetticoat to drop into the sea. 

This, however, occasioned little or no anxiety to Betsy Waroonga, forshe was not an anxious mother; but when, raising her eyes a littlehigher, she beheld the tip of the back-fin of a shark describing livelycircles in the water as if it had scented the tender morsel and weresearching for it, her easy indifference vanished. She gave vent to ayell and made a bound that told eloquently of the savage beneath themissionary, and, in another instant was up to the knees in the waterwith the coal-scuttle quivering violently. Seizing Zariffa, shesqueezed her almost to the bursting point against her palpitatingbreast, while the shark headed seaward in bitter disappointment. 

"Don't go so deep agin, Ziffa, " said the mother, with a gasp, as she sether little one down on the sand. 

"No, musser, " said the obedient child; and she kept on the landward sideof her parent thereafter with demonstrative care. 

It may be remarked here that, owing to Waroonga's love for, andadmiration of, white men, Zariffa's native tongue was English--broken, of course, to the pattern of her parents. 

"It was a narrow escape, Betsy, " said Marie, solemnised by the incident. 

"Yes, thank the Lord, " replied the other, continuing to gaze out to sealong after the cause of her alarm had disappeared. 

"Oh! Marie, " she added, with a sigh, "when will the dear men comehome?"

The question drove all the playful humour out of poor Marie, and hereyes filled with sudden tears. 

"When, indeed? Oh! Betsy, _my_ man will never come. For Orley and theothers I have little fear, but my Antonio--"

Poor Marie could say no more. Her nature was as quickly, though not aseasily, provoked to deep sorrow as to gaiety. She covered her face withher hands. 

As she did so the eyes of Betsy, which had for some time been fixed onthe horizon, opened to their widest, and her countenance assumed a lookso deeply solemn that it might have lent a touch of dignity even to thecoal-scuttle bonnet, if it had not bordered just a little too closely onthe ridiculous. 

"Ho! Marie, " she exclaimed in a whisper so deep that her friend lookedup with a startled air; "see! look--a sip. "

"A ship--where?" said the other, turning her eager gaze on the horizon. But she was not so quick-sighted as her companion, and when at lengthshe succeeded in fixing the object with her eyes, she pronounced it agull. 

"No 'snot a gull--a sip, " retorted Betsy. 

"Ask Zariffa. Her eyes are better than ours, " suggested Marie. 

"Kumeer, Ziffa!" shouted Betsy. 

Zariffa came, and, at the first glance, exclaimed. "A sip!"

The news spread in a moment for other and sharper eyes in the villagehad already observed the sail, and, ere long, the beach was crowded withnatives. 

By that time most of the Ratingans had adopted more or less, chieflyless, of European costume, so that the aspect of the crowd was anythingbut savage. It is true there were large proportions of brown humanitypresented to view--such as arms, legs, necks, and chests, but these werepicturesquely interspersed with striped cotton drawers, duck trousers, gay guernseys, red and blue flannel petticoats, numerous caps and strawhats as well as a few coal-scuttles--though none of the latter couldmatch that of Betsy Waroonga for size and tremulosity. 

But there were other signs of civilisation there besides costume, for, in addition to the neat huts and gardens and whitewashed church, therewas a sound issuing from the pointed spire which was anything butsuggestive of the South sea savage. It was the church bell--a smallone, to be sure, but sweetly toned--which was being rung violently tocall in all the fighting men from the woods and fields around, for atthat time the Ratingans had to be prepared for the reception of foes aswell as friends. 

A trusty chief had been placed in charge of the village by Tomeo beforehe left. This man now disposed his warriors in commanding positions asthey came trooping in, obedient to the call, and bade them keep out ofsight and watch his signals from the beach. 

But now let us see what vessel it was that caused such commotion inRatinga. 

She was a brig, with nothing particularly striking in her rig orappointments--a mere trading vessel. But on her bulwarks at the bow andon the heel of the bowsprit was gathered a group that well deservesnotice, for there, foremost of all, and towering above the others, stoodAntonio Zeppa, holding on to a forestay, and gazing with intensity andfixedness at the speck of land which had just been sighted. Beside him, and not less absorbed, stood his valiant and amiable son; while around, in various attitudes, sat or stood the chiefs Tomeo and Buttchee, Roscoand Ebony, Ongoloo and Wapoota, and little Lippy with her mother!

But the native missionary was not there. He had positively refused toquit the desert which had so unexpectedly and suddenly begun to blossomas the rose, and had remained to water the ground until his friendsshould send for him. 

The chief and prime minister of the Mountain-men were there because, being large-minded, they wished to travel and see the world; and Lippywas there because Zeppa liked her; while the mother was there becauseshe liked Lippy and refused to be parted from her. 

Great was the change which had come over Zeppa during his convalescence. The wild locks and beard had been cut and trimmed; the ragged garmentshad been replaced by a suit belonging to Orley, and the air of wilddespair, alternating with vacant simplicity, which characterised him inhis days of madness, had given place to the old, sedate, sweet look ofgentle gravity. It is true the grey hairs had increased in number, andthere was a look, or, rather, an effect, of suffering in the fine facewhich nothing could remove; but much of the muscular vigour and theerect gait had been regained during those months when he had been socarefully and untiringly nursed by his son on Sugar-loaf Island. 

It was not so with the ex-pirate. Poor Rosco was a broken man. Theshock to his frame from the partial burning and the subsequentamputation of his feet had been so great that a return to anything likevigour seemed out of the question. But there was that in the expressionof his faded face, and in the light of his sunken eye, which carriedhome the conviction that the ruin of his body had been the saving of hissoul. 

"I cannot tell you, Orley, how thankful I am, " said Zeppa, "that thistrader happened to touch at the island. As I grew stronger my anxietyto return home became more and more intense; and to say truth, I hadbegun to fear that Captain Fitzgerald had forgotten us altogether. "

"No fear of that, father. The captain is sure to keep his promise. Hewill either return, as he said, or send some vessel to look after us. What are you gazing at, Ebony?"

"De steepil, massa. Look!" cried the negro, his whole face quiveringwith excitement, and the whites of his eyes unusually obtrusive as hepointed to the ever-growing line of land on the horizon, "you see him?--glippering like fire!"

"I do see something glittering, " said Orlando, shading his eyes with hishand; "yes, it must be the steeple of the church, father. Look, it wasnot there when you left us. We'll soon see the houses now. "

"Thank God!" murmured Zeppa, in a deep, tremulous voice. 

"Can you see it, Rosco?" said Orley. 

The pirate turned his eyes languidly in the direction pointed out. 

"I see the land, " he said faintly, "and I join your father in thankingGod for that--but--but it is not _home_ to me. "

"Come, friend, " said Zeppa, laying his hand gently on the poor man'sshoulder, "say not so. It shall be home to you yet, please God. If Hehas blotted out the past in the cleansing blood of the Lamb, what is manthat he should remember it? Cheer up, Rosco, you shall find a home anda welcome in Ratinga. "

"Always returning good for evil, Zeppa, " said Rosco, in a more cheerfulvoice. "I think it is this tremendous weakness that crushes my spirits, but come--I'll try to `cheer up, ' as you advise. "

"Dat's right massa!" cried Ebony, in an encouraging tone; "an' jus' lookat the glipperin' steepil. He'll do yous heart good--somet'ing like defire in de wilderness to de Jipshins--"

"To the Israelites you mean, " said Orley. 

"Ah, yis--de Izlrights, to be sure. I mis-remembered. Ho! look; dar'sde house-tops now; an' the pine grove whar' we was use to hold palaver'bout you, Massa, arter you was lost; an'--yis--dat's de house--yous ownhouse. You see de wife lookin' out o' winder bery soon. I knows it byde pig-sty close 'longside whar' de big grumper sow libs, dat Ziffa's sofond o' playin' wid. Ho! Lippy, come here, you little naked ting, " (hecaught up the child an' sat her on his broad shoulder). "You see desmall leetil house. Dat's it. Dat's whar' Ziffa lubs to play, butshe'll hab you to play wid soon, an' den she'll forsake de ole sow. Ho!but I forgit--you no understan' English. "

Hereupon Ebony began to translate his information as he best could intothe language of the little creature, in which effort he was not verysuccessful, being an indifferent linguist. 

Meanwhile the vessel gradually neared the island, stood into the lagoon, and, finally, dropped anchor. A boat was at once lowered and made forthe shore. 

And oh! how intensely and intently did those in the boat and those onthe shore gaze at each other as the space between them diminished!

"They not look like enemies, " said Betsy in subdued tones. 

"And I don't think they are armed, " returned Marie, with palpitatingheart, "but I cannot yet make out the faces--only, they seem to bewhite, some of them. "

"Yis, an' some of 'em's brown. "

Thus--on the shore. In the boat:--

"Now den, massa, you sees her--an' ha! ha! dar's Betsy. I'd know her'mong a t'ousind. You sees de bonnit--tumblin' about like a jollyboatin a high sea; an' Ziffa too wid de leetil bonnit, all de same shape, kin you no' see her?"

Zeppa protested, rather anxiously, that he could _not_ see them, and nowonder, for just then his eyes were blinded by tears which no amount ofwiping sufficed to clear away. 

At that moment a shriek was heard on shore, and Betsy was seen tospring, we are afraid to say how many feet, into the air. 

"Dar', she's reco'nised us now!" exclaimed Ebony with delight; and itwas evident that he was right for Betsy continued to caper upon thesands in a manner that could only be the result of joy or insanity, while the coal-scuttle beat tempestuously about her head like an enragedballoon. 

Another moment and a signal from the chief brought the ambushedChristian warriors pouring down to the shore to see the long-lost andloved ones reunited, while Ebony ran about in a state of franticexcitement, weeping copiously, and embracing every one who came in hisway. 

But who shall describe the agony of disappointment endured by poor Betsywhen she found that Waroonga was _not_ among them? the droop of thespirits, the collapse of the coal-scuttle! Language is impotent. Weleave it to imagination, merely remarking that she soon recovered on thefaith of the happiness which was yet in store for her. 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN. 

And now, once again, we find ourselves in the palm-grove of RatingaIsland. It is a fine autumn afternoon. The air is still as regardsmotion, but thrilling with the melody of merry human voices as thenatives labour in the fields, and alive with the twittering of birds asthey make love, quarrel, and make it up again in the bushes. Now andthen a hilarious laugh bursts from a group of children, or a hymn risesfrom some grateful heart, for as yet there is no secular music inRatinga!

In the lagoon lies a man-of-war, its sails neatly furled, and its trimrigging, dark hull, and taper spars, perfectly reproduced in the clearwater. 

As the sun sank lower towards the west, our friend Ebony might have beenseen slowly climbing the side of one of the neighbouring hills withRichard Rosco, the ex-pirate, on his back. 

"Set me down now, my friend, " said Rosco, "you are far too good to me;and let me know what it is you have to say to me. You have quite rousedmy curiosity by your nods and mysterious manner. Out with it now, whatever it is. "

The negro had placed Rosco in such a position on a ledge of rock that hecould see the lagoon and the ship at anchor. 

The ex-pirate had by that time recovered some of his former strength, and, although there rested on his countenance an air of profoundsadness, there mingled with it a hue of returning health, which none whosaw him land had expected to see again. But the care of gentle handsand the power of gladsome emotions had wrought miraculously on the man, body and soul. 

"I's heerd massa an' Cappin Fizzroy talkin' about you, " said the negro, crossing his arms on his chest and regarding his questioner with asomewhat quizzical expression. 

"Ha! I thought so. I am _wanted_, eh?"

"Well, yis, you's wanted, but you's not getted yet--so far as I knows. "

"Ah! Ebony, " returned Rosco, shaking his head, "I have long expectedit, and now I am prepared to meet my deserved fate like a man--I mayhumbly say, a Christian man, thanks to God the Saviour and Zeppa theinstrument. But, tell me, what did the commander of the man-of-warsay?"

"What did he say? Well, I's tell you. Fust he hoed into massa's housean' shook hands with missis, also wid Missis Waroonga wot happined to bewid her, an' hims so frindly dat he nigh shookt de bonnit off her head. Den dey talk 'bout good many t'ings, an' after a while de cappin turnfull on massa, an say, --

"`I's told Missr Zeppa dat you's got dat willain Rosco de pirit here. '

"Ho! you should hab see poor massa's face how it grow long, I most t'inkit also grow a leetil pale, an' missis she give a squeak what shecouldn't help, an' Betsy she giv' a groan an' jump up, slap on hersbonnit, back to de front, an' begin to clar out, but de cappin jump upan' stop her. `Many apologies, ' ses de hipperkrit `for stoppin' a lady, but I don't want any alarm given. You know dat de pirit's life amforfitid to his country, so ob course you'll gib him up. '"

"And what said Zeppa to that?" asked Rosco eagerly. 

"I's just a-goin' to tell you, massa. You see I's in de back kishen atde time an' hear ebery word. `Well, ' ses massa, awful slow an'unwillin' like, `I cannot deny that Rosco is in the island, but I doassure you, sir, that he is quite unable to do any furder mischief toany one, for--an massa stop all of a suddint. '

"`Well, ' ses de cappin, `why you not go on?'

"`Has you a description of him?' he asked. 

"`Oh! yes, ' ses de cappin, drawin' out a paper an' readin' it. De beryting, as like you it was as two pease, even to de small mole on side obyou's nose, but it say not'ing 'bout you's feet. Clarly he nebber heerdob dat an' massa he notice dat, seems to me, for he ses, `Well, CappinFizzerald, it may be your duty to seize dis pirit and deliber him up tojustice, but it's no duty ob mine to help you. '

"`Oh! as to dat, ' ses de cappin, `I'll easily find him widout yourassistance. I have a party of men with me, and no one knows or evensuspects de reason ob my visit. But all of you who now hear me mus'promise not to say a word about this matter till my search is over. Ibelieve you to be an honourable Christian man, Zeppa, who cannot breakhis word; may these ladies be relied on?'

"`Dey may, ' ses massa, in a voice ob woe dat a'most made me cry. Sow'en I hear dat I tink's to myself, `oh! you British hipperkrit, you'snot so clebber as you t'inks, for Ebony's got to wind'ard ob you, ' an'wid dat I slips out ob do back winder an' run to you's cottage, an' askif you'd like to have a ride on my back as usual, an' you say yis, an'--now you's here, an' I dessay de cappin's lookin' for you. "

"It is very kind of you, Ebony, " said Rosco, with a deep sigh and ashake of the head, "very kind, both of you and Zeppa, but your effortscannot now avail me. Just consider. If the description of me possessedby Captain Fitzgerald is as faithful and minute as you say, the mereabsence of my feet could not deceive him. Besides, when I am found, ifthe commander of the man-of-war asks me my name I will not deny it, Iwill give myself up. "

"But if you do dey will hang you!" said Ebony in a somewhat exasperatedtone. 

"Even so. It is my fate--and deserved. "

"But it would be murder to hang a innercent man what's bin reformed, an'don't mean for to do no more mischief--not on'y so, but _can't_!"

"I fear you won't get the broken law to look at it in that light, Ebony. "

"Broken law! what does I care for de broken law? But tell me, massa, hab you make up you's mind to gib youself up?"

"I have, " returned Rosco sadly. 

"Quite sure an' sartin'?"

"Quite, " returned Rosco, with a faint smile at the poor negro'spersistency. 

"Well, den, you come an' hab a last ride on my back. Surely you no kinrefuse so small a favour to dis yar black hoss w'ats carried you so ofin, afore you die!"

"Of course not, my poor fellow! but to what purpose--of what use will itbe to delay matters? It will only prolong the captain's searchneedlessly. "

"Oh! nebber mind. Der's good lot o' huts in de place to keep dehipperkrit goin'. Plenty ob time for a last leetil ride. Besides, Iwant you to see a place I diskiver not long ago--most koorious place--you nebber see. "

"Come along, then, " said Rosco, thinking it right to humour one who hadbeen more like a brother than a servant to him during his long illness, "stoop down. Now, then, heave!"

In a twinkling Rosco was on the back of his "black horse, " which carriedhim a considerable distance in among the hills. 

"Ah! Ebony, " said the rider at last, "I feel sure you are deceivingme--that you hope to conceal me here, but it is of no use, I tell you, for I won't remain concealed. "

"No, massa, I not deceive you. I bring you here to show you de stronaryplace I hab diskiver, an ax you what you t'ink ob him. "

"Well, show it me quickly, and then let us hasten home. "

Without replying, the negro clambered up a somewhat steep and ruggedpath which brought them to the base of a low precipice which waspartially fringed with bushes. Pushing one of these aside, he entered asmall cavern not much larger than a sentry-box, which seemed to have nooutlet; but Ebony, placing his right foot on a projection of rock justlarge enough to receive it, raised himself upwards so as to place hisleft foot on another projection, which enabled him to get on whatappeared to be a shelf of rock. Rising up, he entered another cavern. 

"A strange place truly, but very dark, " said Rosco; "does it extendfar?"

"You'll see, jus' now, " muttered the negro, obtaining a light by meansof flint and steel, with which he kindled a torch. "You see I's bin'splorin' here before an' got t'ings ready. "

So saying, he carried Rosco through several winding passages until hegained a cavern so large and high, that the torch was unable to revealeither its extent or its roof. 

"Wonderful! why did you not tell us of this place before, Ebony?"

"'Cause I on'y just diskiver him, 'bout a week past. I t'ink himsplendid place for hide our wimen an childers in, if we's iver 'tackedby savages. See, I even make some few preparations--got straw in decorner for lie on--soon git meat an' drink if him's required. "

"Very suitable indeed, but if you have brought me here to hide, as Istill suspect, my poor fellow, you have troubled yourself in vain, formy mind is made up. "

"Dat's berry sad, massa, berry sad, " returned Ebony, with a deep sigh, "but you no object sit on de straw for a bit an' let me rest. Dere now. You's growin' heavier every day, massa. I stick de torch here forlight. Look, here you see I hab a few t'ings. Dis is one bit ob ropewid a loop on him. "

"And what may that be for?" asked Rosco, with some curiosity. 

"For tie up our enemies when we's catch dem. Dis way, you understan'. "

As he spoke, Ebony passed the loop over Rosco's shoulders and drew ittight so as to render his arms powerless, and before the latter realisedwhat he was about his legs were also securely bound. 

"Surely you do not mean to keep me here by force!" cried Rosco angrily. 

"I's much afraid, massa, dat's zactly what I mean!"

"Come, come, Ebony, you have carried this jest far enough. Unbind me!"

"Berry sorry to disoblige you, massa, but dat's impossible just now. "

"I command you, sir, to undo this rope!" cried Rosco fiercely. 

"Dere's a good deal ob de ole ring about dat, sar, but you's not a piritcappen now, an' I ain't one ob de pirit crew. "

Rosco saw at once the absurdity of giving way to anger, and restrainedhimself. 

"But you cannot restrain my voice, Ebony, " he continued, "and I promiseyou that I will shout till I am heard. "

"Shout away, massa, much as you please. Bu'st you's lungs if you like, for you's in de bow'ls ob de hill here. "

Rosco felt that he was in the negro's powers and remained silent. 

"I's berry sorry to leave you tied up, " said Ebony, rising to quit theplace, "but when men is foolish like leetil boys, dey must be treat desame. De straw will keep you comf'rable. I daren't leave de torch, butI'll soon send you food by a sure messenger, and come back myself soonas iver I can. "

"Stay, Ebony, I'm at your mercy, and as no good can come of my remainingbound, I must give in. Will you unbind me if I promise to remainquiet?"

"Wid pleasure, " said the negro cheerfully, as his glistening teethshowed themselves. "You promise to wait here till I come for you?"

"I promise. "

"An' you promise not to shout?"

"I do. "

In a moment the rope was cast off, and Rosco was free. Then Ebony, bidding him keep up his heart, glided out of the cavern and left him inprofound darkness. 

Captain Fitzgerald searched the island high and low, far and wide, without success, being guided during the search chiefly by Ebony. 

That wily negro, on returning to the village, found that the search hadalready begun. The captain had taken care that no one, save those towhom he had already spoken, should know what or who he was searchingfor, so that the pirate might not be prematurely alarmed. Great, therefore, was his surprise when he was accosted by the negro, and askedin a mysterious manner to step aside with him out of ear-shot of thesailors who assisted him. 

"What have you got to say to me, my man?" he asked, when they had gone afew yards into the palm-grove. 

"You's lookin' for the pirit!" said Ebony in a hoarse whisper, and witha superhumanly intelligent gaze. 

"Why, how came _you_ to know that?" asked the captain, somewhatperplexed and thrown off his guard. 

"Ho! ho!" laughed Ebony in a subdued voice, "how I comes to know dat, eh? I come to knows many t'ings by putting dis an' dat togider. You'scappen ob man-ob-war. Well, you no comes here for notting. Well, Roscode pirit, de horroble scoundril, hims lib here. Ob course you come forlook for him. Hofficers ob de Brish navy got notting else to do butkotch an' hang sitch varmints. Eh? I's right?"

"Well, no, " returned Captain Fitzgerald, laughing, "not altogether rightas to the duties of officers of the British navy. However, you're rightas to _my_ object, and I see that this pirate is no friend of yours. "

"No friend, oh! no--not at all. Him's far more nor dat. I lub him as abrudder, " said the negro with intense energy. 

Captain Fitzgerald laughed again, for he supposed that the negro spokeironically, and Ebony extended his thick lips from ear to ear because heforesaw and intended that the captain would fall into that mistake. 

"Now you lose no time in sarch for him, " said Ebony, "an' dis yar niggerwill show you de way. "

"Do, my fine fellow, and when we find him, I'll not forget yourservices. "

"You's berry good, a'most too good, " said Ebony, with an affectionatelook at his new employer. 

So, as we have said, the village and island were searched high and lowwithout success. At last, while the searching party was standing, baffled, on the shore farthest from the village, Captain Fitzgeraldstopped abruptly, and looking Zeppa in the face, exclaimed, "Strange, isit not? and the island so small, comparatively. "

"Quite unaccountable, " answered Zeppa, who, with his son, had at lastjoined in the search out of sheer anxiety as to Rosco's fate. 

"Most perplexing!" said Orlando. 

"Most amazin'!" murmured Ebony, with a look of disappointment thatbaffles description. 

Suddenly the negro pointed to the beach, exclaiming, "Oh! I knows itnow! Look dare. You see two small canoes? Dere wor _tree_ canoes dareyisterday. De t'ird wan am _dare_ now. Look!"

They all looked eagerly at the horizon, where a tiny speck was seen. Itmight have been a gull or an albatross. 

"Impossible, " said Zeppa. "Where could he hope to escape to in thatdirection--no island within a thousand miles?"

"A desprit man doos anyt'ing, massa. "

"Well. I shall soon find out, for the wind blows in that direction, "said the captain, wheeling about and returning to his ship. 

Soon the sails were spread, the anchor weighed, the coral reef passed, and the good ship was leaping merrily over the sea in pursuit of thepirate, while Ebony was seated on the straw beside Rosco, expanding hismouth to an extent that it had never reached before, and causing thecavern to ring with uproarious laughter. 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN. 

It need scarcely be said that the man-of-war did not overtake thepirate's canoe!

She cruised about for some days in the hope of falling in with it. Thenher course was altered, and she was steered once more for Ratinga. Butthe elements seemed to league with Ebony in this matter, for, ere shesighted the island, there burst upon her one of those tremendoushurricanes with which the southern seas are at times disturbed. Sofierce was the tempest that the good ship was obliged to present herstern to the howling blast, and scud before it under bare poles. 

When the wind abated, Captain Fitzgerald found himself so far from thescene of his recent visit, and so pressed for time, as well as with theclaims of other duties--possibly, according to Ebony, the capturing andhanging of other pirates--that he resolved to postpone his visit until amore convenient season. The convenient season never came. CaptainFitzgerald returned home to die, and with him died the memory of Roscothe pirate--at least as far as public interest in his capture andpunishment was concerned--for some of the captain's papers were mislaidand lost and among them the personal description of the pirate, and theaccount of his various misdeeds. 

But Rosco himself did not die. He lived to prove the genuine nature ofhis conversion, and to assist Waroonga in his good work. As it is justpossible that some reader may doubt the probability--perhaps even thepossibility--of such a change, we recommend him to meditate on the factthat Saul of Tarsus, the persecutor, became Paul, the loving Apostle ofthe Lord. 

One morning, not long after the events just narrated, Zeppa came toRosco's hut with a bundle under his arm. He was followed by Marie, Betsy, Zariffa, and Lippy with her mother. By that time Lippy had beenprovided with a bonnet similar to that of her friend Ziffa, and hermother had been induced to mount a flannel petticoat, which she woretied round her neck or her waist, as her fancy or her forgetfulnessinclined her. The party had accompanied Zeppa to observe the effect ofthis bundle on Rosco. 

That worthy was seated on a low couch constructed specially for him byEbony. He was busy reading. 

"Welcome, friends all, " he said, with a look of surprise at thedeputation-like visit. 

"We have come to present you with a little gift, Rosco, " said Zeppa, unrolling the bundle and holding up to view a couple of curiousmachines. 

"Wooden legs!" exclaimed Rosco with something between a gasp and alaugh. 

"That's what they are, Rosco. We have been grieved to see you creepingabout in such a helpless fashion, and dependent on Ebony, or some otherstrong-backed fellow, when you wanted to go any distance, so Orlando andI have put our heads together, and produced a pair of legs. "

While he was speaking the on-lookers gazed in open-eyed-and-mouthedexpectancy, for they did not feel quite sure how their footless friendwould receive the gift. 

"It is kind, _very_ kind of you, " he said, on recovering from hissurprise; "but how am I to fix them on? there's no hole to shove theends of my poor legs into. "

"Oh! you don't shove your legs into them at all, " said Zeppa; "you'veonly got to go on your knees into them--see, this part will fit yourknees pretty well--then you strap them on, make them fast, and away yougo. Let's try them. "

To the delight of the women and children, Rosco was quite as eager totry on the legs as they were to see him do it. The bare idea of beingonce more able to walk quite excited the poor man, and his handstrembled as he tried to assist his friend in fixing them. 

"Keep your hands away altogether, " said Zeppa; "you only delay me. There now, they're as tight as two masts. Hold on to me while I raiseyou up. "

At that moment Tomeo, Buttchee, Ebony, Ongoloo, Wapoota, and Orlandocame upon the scene. 

"What a shame, father, " cried the latter, "to begin without letting usknow!"

"Ah! Orley, I'm sorry you have found us at it. Marie and I had plannedgiving you a surprise by making Rosco walk up to you. "

"Never mind, " cried Rosco impatiently; "just set me on my pins, and I'llsoon walk into him. Now then, hoist away!"

Orley and his father each seized an arm, and next moment Rosco stood up. 

"Now den, don' hurry him--hurrah!" cried Ebony, giving a cheer ofencouragement. 

"Have a care, friends; don't let me go, " said Rosco anxiously, clutchinghis supporters' necks with a convulsive grasp. "I'll never do it, Zeppa. I feel that if you quit me for an instant, I shall go down likea shot. "

"No fear. Here, cut him a staff, Ebony, " said Zeppa; "that'll be equalto three legs, you know, and even a stool can stand alone with threelegs. "

The staff was cut and handed to the learner, who, planting it firmly onthe ground before him, leaned on it, and exclaimed, "Let go!" in toneswhich instantly suggested "the anchor" to his friends. 

The order was obeyed, and the ex-pirate stood swaying to and fro, andsmiling with almost childlike delight. Presently he became solemn, lifted one leg, and set it down again with marvellous rapidity. Then helifted the other leg with the same result. Then he lifted the staff, but had to replace it smartly to prevent falling forward. 

"I fear I can only do duty as a motionless tripod, " he said ratheranxiously. 

"Nebber fear, massa--oh! Look out!"

The latter exclamation was caused by Rosco falling backwards; to preventwhich catastrophe he made a wild flourish with his arms, and a sweepwith his staff, which just grazed the negro's cheek. Zeppa, however, caught him in his arms, and set him up again. 

"Now then, try once more, " he said encouragingly. 

Rosco tried, and in the course of half-an-hour managed, with many astagger and upheaval of the arms and staff to advance about eight or tenyards. At this point, however, he chanced to place the end of the rightleg on a soft spot of ground. Down it went instantly to the knee, andover went the learner on his side, snapping the leg short off in thefall!

It would be difficult to paint the general disappointment at this suddencollapse of the experiment. A united groan burst from the party, including the patient, for it at once became apparent that a man with awooden leg--to say nothing of two--could only walk on a hard beatenpath, and as there were few such in the island, Rosco's chance of a longramble seemed to vanish. But Zeppa and his son were not men to beeasily beaten. They set to work to construct feet for the legs, whichshould be broad enough to support their friend on softish ground, andthese were so arranged with a sort of ball-and-socket joint, that thefeet could be moved up and down. In theory this worked admirably; inpractice it failed, for after a staggering step or two, the toes havingbeen once raised refused to go down, and thus was produced the curiouseffect of a man stumping about on his heels! To overcome thisdifficulty the heels of the feet were made to project almost as muchbehind as the toes did in front somewhat after the pattern of Ebony'spedal arrangements, as Rosco remarked when they were being fitted on foranother trial. At last, by dint of perseverance, the wooden legs wereperfected, and Rosco re-acquired the art of walking to such perfection, that he was to be seen, almost at all times and in all weathers, stumping about the village, his chief difficulty being that when hechanced to fall, which he often did, he was obliged either to get someone to help him up, or to crawl home; for, being unable to get his kneesto the ground when the legs were on, he was obliged to unstrap them ifno one was within hail. 

Now, during all this time, Betsy Waroonga remained quite inconsolableabout her husband. 

"But my dear, you know he is quite safe, " her friend Marie Zeppa wouldsay to her, "for he is doing the Master's work among Christian men. "

"I knows that, " Betsy would reply, "an' I'm comforted a leetle when Ithink so; but what for not Zeppa git a canoe ready an' take me to him?A missionary not worth nothing without hees wife. "

Marie sympathised heartily with this sentiment, but pointed out that itwas too long and dangerous a voyage to be undertaken in a canoe, andthat it was probable the mission ship would revisit Ratinga ere long, inwhich case the voyage could be undertaken in comfort and safety. 

But Betsy did not believe in the danger of a canoe voyage, nor in thespeedy arrival of the mission ship. In fact she believed in nothing atthat time, save in her own grief and the hardness of her case. Sheshook her head, and the effect on the coal-scuttle, which had now becomequite palsied with age and hard service, was something amazing, insomuchthat Marie's sympathy merged irresistibly into mirth. 

The good woman's want of faith, however, received a rebuke not manyweeks later. 

She was hastening, one afternoon, to an outlying field to gathervegetables in company with Zariffa, who had by that time grown into agoodly-sized girl. 

The pace induced silence, also considerable agitation in both bonnets. When they had cleared the village, and reached Rosco's hut near theentrance to the palm-grove, they went up to the open door and looked in, but no one was there. 

"He's hoed out to walk, " observed Zariffa with a light laugh; "awfulfond o' walkin' since he got the 'ooden legs!"

"What was you want with him?" asked Betsy, as they resumed their walk. 

"Want to ask 'bout the Bibil lesson for to-morrow. Some things me nocan understan', an' Rosco great at the Bibil now. "

"Yes, " murmured Betsy with a nod, "there's many things in the Bibil noteasy to understand. Takes a deal o' study, Ziffa, to make him out. Your father always say that. But Rosco's fuss-rate at 'splainin' of'em. Fuss-rate--so your father say. Him was born for a mis'nary. "

At that moment a cry was heard in the distance. They had been ascendinga winding path leading to the field to which they were bound. 

"Sounds like man in distress, " said Betsy, breaking into a run with thateager alacrity which usually characterises the sympathetic. 

Zariffa replied not, but followed her mother. The cry was repeated, andat once recognised as being uttered by the man who was "born for amis'nary, " but had mistaken his profession when he became a pirate!When they reached the spot whence it had apparently issued, themis'nary, or ex-pirate, was nowhere to be seen. 

"Hooroo! whar' is you?" shouted Betsy, looking round. 

"Here!" cried a half-smothered voice from somewhere in the earth. 

"Oh! look!" exclaimed Zariffa in a sort of squeal as she ran towards aspot where two strange plants seemed to have sprung up. 

"Rosco's legs!" said Betsy, aghast. 

And she was right. The venturesome man had, with his accustomedhardihood, attempted that day to scale the mountain side, and had falleninto a hole by the side of the track, from which he could by no meansextricate himself, because of its being a tightish fit, his head beingdown and his legs were in the air. 

"Oh, Betsy, pull me out lass! I'm half-choked already, " gasped theunfortunate man. 

But Betsy could not move him, much less pull him out, although heartilyassisted by her daughter. 

"Run, Ziffa, run an' fetch men!"

Ziffa ran like a hunted deer, so anxious was she for the deliverance ofher Bible instructor. On turning sharp round a bend in the track, sheplunged into the bosom of Ebony. 

"Ho! hi! busted I am; why, what's de matter, Ziffa? you travel like acannon-ball!"

As he spoke, Zeppa and his son, who had been walking behind Ebony, cameup. The panting child only replied, "Rosco--queek!" and ran before themto the fatal spot. Need we say that in a few moments the "bornmis'nary" was drawn like a cork out of a bottle, and set down right endup? Then they carried him to a clear space, whence the sea was visible, condoling with him as they went; but here all thought of the accidentand of everything else was banished, for the moment by the sight of aship on the horizon!

It turned out to be the mission-vessel with supplies, and with a youngnative missionary, or Bible-reader; and thus, in a few days, not onlyBetsy Waroonga, but Ongoloo and Wapoota, with Lippy and her mother andOrlando, were enabled to return to Sugar-loaf Island. 

The joy of the Sugarlovians at the return of their chiefs and friends isnot to be described, for, despite the assurances of Waroonga, they hadbegun to grow uneasy. Neither is it possible to describe the conditionof the coal-scuttle bonnet after it had been crushed in the recklessembrace of Betsy's spouse, nor the delight of the uncles, aunts, brothers, cousins, nieces, and nephews of Lippy, when they got her safeback again, though awfully disguised by the miniature coal-scuttle andflaming petticoat. 

By that time the Mountain-men and the Raturans had rubbed noses, intermingled, intermarried, broken bows and spears, buried thewar-hatchet and otherwise made up their minds, like sane creatures, todwell in peace; for savages come to this condition sometimes--civilisednations never do! Great, therefore, was their satisfaction when theirmourning, at the prospect of losing Waroonga, was turned into joy by thedecision of the young native teacher, who volunteered to take his placeand remain with them as their permanent instructor in the way ofRighteousness. 

A dance was proposed by some of the chiefs as an appropriate way ofexpressing their joy and getting rid of superfluous energy; but as theironly dance was a war-dance, it was thought better to celebrate theoccasion by a grand feast which, being preceded by games--wrestling, jumping, and running, etcetera--served the purpose equally well--if notbetter. 

Thus was an island won from heathenism in those far off southern seas!

And now, what shall we say in conclusion? Time and space would fail us, were we to continue the history of Ratinga island down to the presenttime. We can only add that Waroonga and Betsy returned home, that astalwart son of Tomeo went in after years, to Sugar-loaf Island, andcarried off Lippy as his bride, along with her mother; that a handsomeson of Ongoloo took revenge by carrying Zariffa away from Ratinga, without her mother; that regular and frequent intercourse was set upbetween the two islands by means of a little schooner; that Ebony stuckto his master and mistress through thick and thin to a good old age;that Orlando went to England, studied medicine, and returned again toRatinga with a fair daughter of that favoured land; that Wapoota'smorals improved by degrees; that Buttchee became more reconciled toEuropean dress as he grew older; and that the inhabitants of the twoislands generally became wiser and happier--though of course notperfect--through the benign influence of that Gospel which teaches manto do to others as he would have others do to him. 

Time, as usual, continued to work his marvellous changes as the yearsflew by, but of all the transformations he wrought none was so strikingas that produced in two men of Ratinga, who daily sat down, side byside, in front of their cottage by the sea, to watch a host of childrenof all ages, sizes, and complexions, which gambolled merrily on thesands. These men were old and somewhat feeble, with hair like thedriven snow, but their gentle expressions and ready smiles told ofeternal youth within. As the one sat with his colossal frame stillerect though spare, talking softly to his comrade, and the other satslightly bent, with eyes gazing sometimes at the children, and sometimesat his wooden toes, how difficult how almost impossible, to believethat, in former days, the one had been the madman, and the other thepirate!