and for some time the sole tyrant of the isle was half-seas-over.  He was not drunk—­the man is not a drunkard, he has always stores of liquor at hand, which he uses with moderation,—­but he was muzzy, dull, and confused.  He came one day to lunch with us, and while the cloth was being laid fell asleep in his chair.  His confusion, when he awoke and found he had been detected, was equalled by our uneasiness.  When he was gone we sat and spoke of his peril, which we thought to be in some degree our own; of how easily the man might be surprised in such a state by grumbletonians; of the strange scenes that would follow—­the royal treasures and stores at the mercy of the rabble, the palace overrun, the garrison of women turned adrift.  And as we talked we were startled by a gun-shot and a sudden, barbaric outcry.  I believe we all changed colour; but it was only the king firing at a dog and the chorus striking up in the Speak House.  A day or two later I learned the king was very sick; went down, diagnosed the case; and took at once the highest medical degree by the exhibition of bicarbonate of soda.  Within the hour Richard was himself again; and I found him at the unfinished house, enjoying the double pleasure of directing Rubam and making a dinner of cocoa-nut dumplings, and all eagerness to have the formula of this new sort of pain-killer—­for pain-killer in the islands is the generic name of medicine.  So ended the king’s modest spree and our anxiety.

On the face of things, I ought to say, loyalty appeared unshaken.  When the schooner at last returned for us, after much experience of baffling winds, she brought a rumour that Tebureimoa had declared war on Apemama.  Tembinok’ became a new man; his face radiant; his attitude, as I saw him preside over a council of chiefs in one of the palace maniap’s, eager as a boy’s; his voice sounding abroad, shrill and jubilant, over half the compound.  War is what he wants, and here was his chance.  The English captain, when he flung his arms in the lagoon, had forbidden him (except in one case) all military adventures in the future:  here was the case arrived.  All morning the council sat; men were drilled, arms were bought, the sound of firing disturbed the afternoon; the king devised and communicated to me his plan of campaign, which was highly elaborate and ingenious, but perhaps a trifle fine-spun for the rough and random vicissitudes of war.  And in all this bustle the temper of the people appeared excellent, an unwonted animation in every face, and even Uncle Parker burning with military zeal.

Of course it was a false alarm.  Tebureimoa had other fish to fry.  The ambassador who accompanied us on our return to Butaritari found him retired to a small island on the reef, in a huff with the Old Men, a tiff with the traders, and more fear of insurrection at home than appetite for wars abroad.  The plenipotentiary had been placed under my protection; and we solemnly saluted when we met.  He proved an excellent fisherman, and caught bonito over the ship’s side.  He pulled a good oar, and made himself useful for a whole fiery afternoon, towing the becalmed Equator off Mariki.  He went to his post and did no good.  He returned home again, having done no harm.  O si sic omnes!