Three nights after, Sestrina was suddenly awakened by hearing a distant hubbub that sounded as though men were singing rollicking songs. “What can it mean?” she thought as she leaped from her couch. Her heart thumped as she listened and wondered. “’Tis a ship arrived off the isle, and the sailors are ashore, singing!”
“Keep near me,” said a stern voice, as she rushed from her dwelling to ascertain if her surmises were true. It was Hawahee who had spoken.
Sestrina gazed at him, and was alarmed at the expression of his eyes.
“’Tis Lupo, Rohana and the rest, they have been out to the wreck, and found barrels of devil-water (rum); they are demented, wahine.”
“Rum! demented!” replied Sestrina as her heart sank within her. No ship at all, but rum and demented! What did Hawahee mean? The girl did not realise the serious import of the Hawaian’s remarks. She had no familiar knowledge of men, and the demoralising influence of drink on their natures. And so she dreamed not of her danger, she, a lonely woman, on that solitary isle.
During the lepers stay on the isle their health had improved. The abundance of shell fish, the fruit and tinned meats, saved from the wreck, had renovated their wasted frames. Lupo and Rohana had even made flesh, and so their smouldering passions had burst into flame again! Indeed, but a day or two before, Rohana and Lupo had crept round the shore, and spied Sestrina bathing in a lagoon.
They had watched, and then hastened back to their comrades and cried in this wise: “Oh makaia, le sola!” and then the three stronger men had crept back into the jungle on the shore, and had watched. That same night they had talked about what they had seen, till even the blind lepers had listened in ecstasy as their comrades spoke of the girl’s beauty, the glory of her wet tresses as they sparkled in the warm sunlight.
Hawahee, who knew these things, attempted to calm Sestrina’s fears by saying, “Do not be alarmed by the singing of my brothers, I will protect you.”
And then she had gone back into her hut, and had lain sleepless, weeping bitterly, for her hopes had been cruelly dispelled. The next night she was awakened again by hearing a wild song. Again she jumped from her bed, and went outside, but this time she trembled in the thought of some nameless fear. As she stood under the palms by her lonely homestead doorway, she saw a great red glow on the sky over the sea.
“’Tis the wreck on fire,” said Hawahee as he stood beside her. For he was ever wakeful.