“Yes, her a bride,” Mali answered; “and ladies what follow, them her bridesmaids.”

At the word, six other girls, similarly dressed, though without the train, and demure as nuns, emerged from the hut in slow order, two and two, behind her.

Muriel and Felix moved forward with natural curiosity toward the scene.  The natives, now ranged in a row along the path, with mats turned inward, made way for them gladly.  All seem pleased that Heaven should thus auspiciously honor the occasion; and the bride herself, as well as the bridegroom, who, decked in shells and teeth, advanced from the opposite side along the path to meet her, looked up with grateful smiles at the two Europeans.  Muriel, in return, smiled her most gracious and girlish recognition.  As the bride drew near, she couldn’t refrain from bending forward a little to look at the girl’s really graceful costume.  As she did so, the skirt of her own European dress brushed for a second against the bride’s train, trailed carelessly many yards on the ground behind her.

Almost before they could know what had happened, a wild commotion arose, as if by magic, in the crowd around them.  Loud cries of “Taboo!  Taboo!” mixed with inarticulate screams, burst on every side from the assembled natives.  In the twinkling of an eye they were surrounded by an angry, threatening throng, who didn’t dare to draw near, but, standing a yard or two off, drew stone knives freely and shook their fists, scowling, in the strangers’ faces.  The change was appalling in its electric suddenness.  Muriel drew back horrified, in an agony of alarm.  “Oh, what have I done!” she cried, piteously, clinging to Felix for support.  “Why on earth are they angry with us?”

“I don’t know,” Felix answered, taken aback himself.  “I can’t say exactly in what you’ve transgressed.  But you must, unconsciously, in some way have offended their prejudices.  I hope it’s not much.  At any rate they’re clearly afraid to touch us.”

“Missy Queenie break taboo,” Mali explained at once, with Polynesian frankness.  “That make people angry.  So him want to kill you.  Missy Queenie touch bride with end of her dress.  Korong may smile on bride—­that very good luck; but Korong taboo; no must touch him.”

The crowd gathered around them, still very threatening in attitude, yet clearly afraid to approach within arm’s-length of the strangers.  Muriel was much frightened at their noise and at their frantic gestures.  “Come away,” she cried, catching Felix by the arm once more.  “Oh, what are they going to do to us?  Will they kill us for this?  I’m so horribly afraid!  Oh, why did I ever do it!”

The poor little bride, meanwhile, left alone on the carpet, and unnoticed by everybody, sank suddenly down on the mats where she stood, buried her face in her hands, and began to sob as if her heart would break.  Evidently, something very untoward of some sort had happened to the dusky lady on her wedding morning.