“And when she passed by us, O Hawahee, chief of Lahaina, we could scent the odours of the first flowers on the mountain-side, made when the White God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and formed trees, and birds to wing the blue Langi,” said the two blind lepers as they mumbled and sighed and moved their sightless heads thither and thither as they imagined Sestrina’s loveliness and longed-for sight.
Then Lupo, who had nursed jealousy in his breast that Hawahee should claim the girl’s companionship, hung his head and promised Hawahee never to attempt to approach Sestrina again. And Lupo meant what he said. But, alas! for the weakness of mortals, once more the lepers fell before the compelling strength of their desires. Hawahee did not know they still possessed two barrels of rum, which they had hidden in the caves just by their dwelling.
And so Sestrina, two nights after the lepers had given their promise not to approach her, was suddenly awakened again. Some one had thrown a stone; she sat up and trembled in her fright; then some more pebbles were thrown. She heard them go “tap, tap!” on the wooden walls of her homestead.
“What can it be? Surely not Hawahee?” she thought, as she sprang from her couch and ran towards the door. Pushing the old sail-cloth curtain aside, she peered out into the night. The moon was high over the sea, sending its silver radiance on the shore palms as the dark-fingered leaves softly stirred to the warm breeze. “It must have been the fall of a coco-nut,” she thought as she turned round and gazed up at the tall coco-palm that sheltered her humble roof. Then she stared into the shadows, and again looked seaward, where the tumbling silvered waves seemed beating silently as they curled over the shore reefs. “Aue! Aue!” she cried, as in her fright she dodged back—“pat, pat!” two more pebbles had been thrown! With difficulty she suppressed the instinctive feminine desire to scream for help—three figures had crept out of the bamboo thicket, across the hollow, right opposite her door! Sestrina stood like some beautiful chiselled statue with flying hair as she saw the dark figures commence to crawl down the small slope, making straight for her dwelling. For a moment the girl felt strangely calm. “It is the lepers—and they want me!” she murmured, as in a flash she realised the truth. As the figures passed by the huge prickly-backed cacti—that resembled sleeping monsters breathing in moonlight—she distinctly recognised Rohana, Steno and Lupo, and knew that the two hesitating forms that crept behind were the blind lepers. Lupo was the foremost; she saw his burning eyes stare at her through the moonlit gloom. Just behind Rohana crawled Steno, and he, with the two blind lepers, was lifting skeleton-like arms as though in terrible appeal as they each stayed a moment on the slope. Sestrina stood perfectly still by her door as the soft night wind touched her hair and sent it in ripples over her face and shoulders. As Rohana lifted his head up to stare over Lupo’s shoulder, he rolled his bulging, nearly blind eyes to locate Sestrina. He could hear his comrades whispering about the girl’s loveliness. The sounds of their whispering voices brought Sestrina to her senses. Running a few steps forward, she cried:
“Stop!”
On seeing the girl’s determined attitude, as she stood with one hand uplifted, Lupo, Rohana and Steno ceased to move. Then they lifted their hands in appeal and at the same time whispered as loud as they dared—for they knew that Hawahee slept near—impassioned words over her beauty.
“Are you hungry, brothers?” whispered Sestrina, as she leaned forward, caught a few words and fancied the lepers appealed for food.
The lepers made no reply. Then Rohana rose to his feet, and, looking over Lupo’s shoulder, said, in his own tongue, words which, translated, would be as follows:
“O wahine, give us but one touch from thy lips, one embrace, and we will never come again, but will take our sorrowing hearts in prayer to the great White God of yours, and thank Him and thee also for thy divine mercy towards hungry, sorrowing, yet sinful men.”
Though Sestrina did not understand, there was that light in their eyes which spoke louder than words. A great fear clutched at her heart. She turned to rush back into her homestead. In one bound Lupo had reached her side, his comrades just behind him. The leper had clasped her in his arms and was endeavouring to press hot kisses on her shoulders and face. Rohana, who stood just by and had noticed the soft whiteness of her arms, fell down on his knees, and in the delirium of the terrible passion that maddened his better self, began to wail out words of appeal and love for her ears.