fell upon unheeding ears.  The details of the scheme to surprise the unsuspecting inhabitants of the two villages had filled him with unutterable horror and indignation, and all sorts of wild plans formed in his brain to prevent the accomplishment of the cruel deed.  For the consequences of such interference to himself he cared nothing.  He was alone in the world, and had no thought beyond that of making enough money to enable him to one day buy a ship of his own.  Once, as he passed the trio on the poop, and glanced at the smooth, olive-coloured features of the young king, who, with anticipative zest, was fondling a rifle which Ross had brought on board for him, he felt inclined to whip a belaying-pin out of the rail and bring it crashing down upon his skull.  Had there been any other ship but the Lucy May near, he would have left the Iroquois that moment.  But help was coming to his troubled mind.

An hour before sunset the two vessels ran into a little harbour, then called Port Lottin, but now known as South Harbour by the few wandering whalers which sometimes touch at the island.  Here, ere it became dark, the natives, with fourteen of the Lucy May’s crew under Ross, were landed.  They were to march at early morning, cross the mountain range which intervened between South Harbour and Leasse, and then, hidden by the dense forest, await the appearance of the ships off the doomed villages on the following afternoon.  The six boats—­two from the Lucy May and four from the Iroquois—­were to pull ashore as soon as the ships were off Leasse and take up positions, three to the north and three to the south, so as to cut off all who attempted to escape along the beaches from the attack which would be made by Ross.  Charlik was to command one of the boat parties, Cayse the other, and should any canoes with fugitives attempt to gain the open sea, they were to be sunk by the Lucy May’s guns, for she was to anchor in such a position that an escaping canoe would have to pass within fifty yards of her.

* * * * *

Eight bells had struck, and North, who had declined to join the captain and his fellow-officers at supper, was sitting in his cabin smoking and listening to the soft hum of the surf on the barrier reef a mile away.  On deck all was quiet, only the fourth mate and three of the hands were keeping watch, the rest of the crew who were not turned in had gone ashore to witness a dance given by King Charlik’s warriors.

Suddenly he heard a footfall on the cabin deck, and then some one said in a low voice—­

“May I come in, sir?”

North, recognising the voice as that of a young man named Macy, his own harpooner, at once bade him enter.

Macy, a sunburnt, blue-eyed youth, closed the cabin door behind him, and held up his finger to enjoin silence.

“I’ve only just now heard, sir, that you will not take a hand in this work which is going on.  Neither will I, sir; for those damned savages are going to kill all the poor women and children.  I’ve come to ask you what I’m to do if I’m ordered away in the boat?  My God!  Mr. North, must we all be turned into a gang of murderers like those fellows on the Lucy May!”