was already doomed; it was to pass from its green medicine-tree, reverend precinct, and devout attendants; to be handled by the profane; to cross three seas; to come to land under the foolscap of St. Paul’s; to be domesticated within the hail of Lillie Bridge; there to be dusted by the British housemaid, and to take perhaps the roar of London for the voice of the outer sea along the reef.  Before even we had finished dinner Chench had begun his journey, and one of the newspapers had already placed the box upon my table as the gift of Tembinok’.

I made haste to the palace, thanked the king, but offered to restore the box, for I could not bear that the sick of the island should be made to suffer.  I was amazed by his reply.  Terutak’, it appeared, had still three or four in reserve against an accident; and his reluctance, and the dread painted at first on every face, was not in the least occasioned by the prospect of medical destitution, but by the immediate divinity of Chench.  How much more did I respect the king’s command, which had been able to extort in a moment and for nothing a sacrilegious favour that I had in vain solicited with millions!  But now I had a difficult task in front of me; it was not in my view that Terutak’ should suffer by his virtue; and I must persuade the king to share my opinion, to let me enrich one of his subjects, and (what was yet more delicate) to pay for my present.  Nothing shows the king in a more becoming light than the fact that I succeeded.  He demurred at the principle; he exclaimed, when he heard it, at the sum.  ’Plenty money!’ cried he, with contemptuous displeasure.  But his resistance was never serious; and when he had blown off his ill-humour—­’A’ right,’ said he.  ‘You give him.  Mo’ betta.’

Armed with this permission, I made straight for the infirmary.  The night was now come, cool, dark, and starry.  On a mat hard by a clear fire of wood and coco shell, Terutak’ lay beside his wife.  Both were smiling; the agony was over, the king’s command had reconciled (I must suppose) their agitating scruples; and I was bidden to sit by them and share the circulating pipe.  I was a little moved myself when I placed five gold sovereigns in the wizard’s hand; but there was no sign of emotion in Terutak’ as he returned them, pointed to the palace, and named Tembinok’.  It was a changed scene when I had managed to explain.  Terutak’, long, dour Scots fisherman as he was, expressed his satisfaction within bounds; but the wife beamed; and there was an old gentleman present—­her father, I suppose—­who seemed nigh translated.  His eyes stood out of his head; ‘Kaupoi, Kaupoi—­rich, rich!’ ran on his lips like a refrain; and he could not meet my eye but what he gurgled into foolish laughter.