What had the man been after?  I have found my music better qualified to scatter than to collect an audience.  Amateur as I was, I could not suppose him interested in my reading of the Carnival of Venice, or that he would deny himself his natural rest to follow my variations on The Ploughboy.  And whatever his design, it was impossible I should suffer him to prowl by night among the houses.  A word to the king, and the man were not, his case being far beyond pardon.  But it is one thing to kill a man yourself; quite another to bear tales behind his back and have him shot by a third party; and I determined to deal with the fellow in some method of my own.  I told Ah Fu the story, and bade him fetch me the cook whenever he should find him.  I had supposed this would be a matter of difficulty; and far from that, he came of his own accord:  an act really of desperation, since his life hung by my silence, and the best he could hope was to be forgotten.  Yet he came with an assured countenance, volunteered no apology or explanation, complained of injuries received, and pretended he was unable to sit down.  I suppose I am the weakest man God made; I had kicked him in the least vulnerable part of his big carcase; my foot was bare, and I had not even hurt my foot.  Ah Fu could not control his merriment.  On my side, knowing what must be the nature of his apprehensions, I found in so much impudence a kind of gallantry, and secretly admired the man.  I told him I should say nothing of his night’s adventure to the king; that I should still allow him, when he had an errand, to come within my tapu-line by day; but if ever I found him there after the set of the sun I would shoot him on the spot; and to the proof showed him a revolver.  He must have been incredibly relieved; but he showed no sign of it, took himself off with his usual dandy nonchalance, and was scarce seen by us again.

These five, then, with the substitution of the steward for the cook, came and went, and were our only visitors.  The circle of the tapu held at arm’s-length the inhabitants of the village.  As for ‘my pamily,’ they dwelt like nuns in their enclosure; only once have I met one of them abroad, and she was the king’s sister, and the place in which I found her (the island infirmary) was very likely privileged.  There remains only the king to be accounted for.  He would come strolling over, always alone, a little before a meal-time, take a chair, and talk and eat with us like an old family friend.  Gilbertine etiquette appears defective on the point of leave-taking.  It may be remembered we had trouble in the matter with Karaiti; and there was something childish and disconcerting in Tembinok’s abrupt ‘I want go home now,’ accompanied by a kind of ducking rise, and followed by an unadorned retreat.  It was the only blot upon his manners, which were otherwise plain, decent, sensible, and dignified.  He never stayed long nor drank much, and copied our behaviour where he perceived it to differ from his