“Keep back!” I whispered to O’Hara, who was staring over my shoulder, endeavouring to get a better glimpse of the figure. On she came, seemingly draped in veils of the moonlight that was falling through the overspreading, dark-fingered palm-leaves. Her lips had begun a chant, her head turned slightly sideways as on her tripping flight she approached and stared at the mighty, yellow-toothed, wooden deity. In a moment she was upon us. I swiftly thrust forth my hand as she flitted past.
“A phantom!” I gasped, as my fist passed right through the folds of her attire and then seemingly through her form! For a moment I could only stare. A vulture screeched high in the banyans. O’Hara crossed himself and murmured a portion of some Ave Maria, terror-struck. “Impossible! preposterous!” thought I to myself. Then I remembered how I had distinctly felt the material of her robes appeal to my sense of touch as my fist apparently went through her figure; yes, something real and material was there. I had simply missed touching her solid figure; that was it, I felt sure. “O’Hara,” I whispered, and my voice sounded cracked as I muttered, “it’s no ghost; it’s her, Fae Fae, right enough. She’s mad, out of her mind!”
“No! Mad!” groaned O’Hara, as he jumped down from the banyan bough where he had leapt in fright, and peered between the breadfruit trunks. I tried hard to hold him back as he rushed forward; but it was too late—a piece of his ragged coat came off in my hand!
Fae Fae gave a terrified scream as she spied him.
“It’s me! your O’Hara, darlint!” yelled my comrade, as the girl, turning round, stared at him in a wild, vacant way. Then, with a frightened scream that thrilled us with horror, she fled away into the depths of the forest.
I also rushed off, following O’Hara, who bolted after her. He had not gone far when he tripped and fell with a crash. He gave a groan as he held up his afflicted foot. I at once came to a standstill. I was not in the mood to go chasing after a mad native girl. Besides, I had had about sufficient of O’Hara’s love affairs. O’Hara was inconsolable that night. At daybreak we were up and ready to go forth in an endeavour to hear something about Fae Fae. Indeed, O’Hara seemed more determined than ever to find her. We had at first intended to go and see Tapee; but Tapee saved us that trouble by suddenly walking into our apartments. Before we could get a chance to tell the old chief of our adventure with Fae Fae, he had started gabbling like one demented.
“Fae Fae, she go mad! and, O Papalagi, that Tautoa, her lover, he have found her crying in the night in the forest, all ’lone,” said the old dark man.
“No!” we both exclaimed in one breath.
“Ah, yes, Messieurs, it all-e-samee true. Fae Fae am now back in palace, they got her now, and Queen Pomare am in terrible rage with white mans. I knower that she am going to send gendarmes after you and Monsieur O’Hara.”
The way O’Hara raved and carried on is indescribable. He got quite drunk before midday. Then we were obliged to fly from our lodgings and hide away under Tapee’s protection. For, sure enough, a warrant was really out for both O’Hara and myself for trespass and the abduction of Fae Fae, who from childhood had suffered from mental afffliction!