To tell the truth, I had wondered if Fae Fae would not take fright at seeing me with O’Hara. It appeared that my comrade had wooed Fae Fae considerably in the little time he had known her. But I had only seen her twice—and there I was, bound for her sleeping-apartment in the dead of night.
Once again we moved on. Arriving before a little door that led into a roomy apartment adjoining the west wing of the palace, O’Hara gently pulled another door open. We both crept in. It was nearly pitch dark; the faint rays of moonlight, peeping through chinks in the roof, just helped us to grope along. As we moved stealthily across the floor, I stumbled over a large calabash. We stood still, breathless with suspense. I looked around: on the walls, dimly revealed by the moonlight, hung old war-clubs, spears, and other ancient heirlooms of the Pomarean dynasty. We heard a door open, then it was shut again, for the sounds of distant laughter and heathen voices swiftly ceased. It came from somewhere on the other side of the courtyard, that portion of the palace where Queen Pomare and her suite dwelt. Once more we crept on. Passing across another room, we suddenly came out into a small courtyard.
Turning to me, O’Hara whispered:
“You see that door over there, on the far side of that wooden building? Well, it opens into a long corridor, and at the far end is the chamber where Fae Fae sleeps.”
I nodded.
“Are you game to follow me, pal?” he added.
“I am!” said I, as I clutched my revolver and thought how “gamey” we might both soon be if we were discovered.
I don’t know if my story sounds like a sketch from some semi-comic opera, but I do know that it was a serious thing for us to attempt to get into a native girl’s bedroom as we did that night. But, mind you, I believed implicitly in O’Hara’s good intentions. Never once had I observed him take a liberty with a maid. He had the Celtic temperament, but was clean-minded, notwithstanding his sins. We opened the door that led down the corridor to Fae Fae’s bed-chamber; then we took a rather bold nip at the flask of whisky. In complete obedience to O’Hara’s whispered directions, I at once went down on my knees, then, hand over hand and knee over knee, we began to travel down that dark, narrow corridor! A stream of moonlight crept through the airholes that were in the roof. I could just discern O’Hara’s ragged coat-tails in front of me as I blindly groped along behind him. I saw the dim shadows of the palms waving about, silhouetted on the wooden walls as the winds stirred the forest trees outside. Arriving about half-way down the corridor, I whispered to my comrade:
“Supposing she’s asleep? Do you intend to seize her whilst she lies in bed? Won’t she scream if she sees me with you, and awaken the whole palace?”
I knew what English girls would do if they suddenly awoke and saw two sunburnt tramps on their knees, peering round the edge of their bedroom door at the dead of night.