“Ye have watched well,” he said.  “There is thy reward.  Now go and eat and sleep.”

With eyes sparkling with pleasure, the young men each took up his precious gift, and with crouching forms crept slowly over to the further side of the courtyard, where they were waited upon by women with food.

Presently the fair young woman—­his sister Se—­returned to her brother’s side.

“The ship is near,” she said, and then her voice faltered; “but it is not the ship of Kesa.  It is but a small ship, and she hath but two boats.  Kesa’s had five.”

“What lies are these?” said the young savage fiercely.  “Go look again.”

The girl left him, to return a few minutes later with grey-headed old Kanka, who in response to an inquiring look from his master, bent his head and said slowly—­

“’Tis a strange ship—­one that never before have we seen in Lele.”

The youth made him no answer.  He merely raised his arm and pointed his finger at the three messengers.

“Then they have lied to me.  Bring them here to me.”

Kanka stepped over to where the fated men were sitting.  They rose at his behest, and crept over to the king; behind them, at some invisible sign given by him, followed a man with a heavy club of toa wood.  The clamour which had filled the courtyard ceased, and terrified silence fell.  One by one the messengers knelt upon the coral flags—­no need for them to ask for mercy from Charlik, the savage son of a bloodstained father.  The bearer of the club held the weapon knob downward, and watched the king’s face for the signal of death.  He nodded, and then, one after another of the men were struck and fell prone upon the stones.  With scowling eyes Charlik regarded them for a moment or two in silence, then he turned unconcernedly away, as some of his slaves came forward and carried the bodies out of sight.

Suddenly he sprang to his feet, as a loud, long cry, first from a single throat, and then echoed and reechoed by a hundred more, came upward from the beach.

“A ship!  A ship!  Another ship!  The ship of Kesa!”

Bidding his sister and the old chief Kanka to come with him, Charlik quickly left the house, and walking through a grove of breadfruit trees, reached a spot from where he had a full view of the open sea.  There right in the passage was a small barque; and, almost within hail, and just rounding the northern horn of the reef was a larger vessel, one glance at which told Charlik that it was the American whaler for which he had so long waited.  In less than an hour they were at anchor abreast of the king’s house, and the two captains were being rowed ashore.  They met on the beach.  The master of the smaller vessel was a tall, broad-shouldered man, armed with a pair of pistols and a cutlass.  Striding over the sand he held out his hand to the American.

“Good day.  My name’s Ross, barque Lucy May, of Sydney, from the New Hebrides to Hong Kong with sandalwood.”