"I will never leave Tops Island," muttered he. "This is my home. I am a Hula, and my father said, 'Always be Hula, Willie, never go to England.' I cannot disobey the words of the Great White Chief, my father. Clifford I hate. I am sorry, Madame, that I did not kill him when first he landed on my island. It was you who saved his miserable life from me. In Thursday Island he tried to give me whisky, and, when I refused it, told me the sweet sticky port was good and safe to drink. I liked it, Madame. He brought two, three cases away in the yawl, and some other stuff like port—he called it cherry brandy. That I like too. It is hot and sweet. And then there is...." In his artless fashion he was about to speak of the girl Marie, but the white blood stirred, for the first time in his relations with women he felt shame, and the sentence was left unfinished.
"It is as you will," said Madame gently. "We will remain here for a little while longer. Should you change your mind and wish to go, here is the Humming Top at your service. We cannot sail without our Pilot. We should be cast away on the reefs for sure. You brought us to your island, Willie, and only you can take us away."
"I will be your pilot to Thursday Island whenever you wish, Madame. But no farther. I will return here in my yawl."
"And what about Clifford?"
"If he has not gone, I will cut off his head. It amuses me that he should be my white slave, but I grow weary of him. His head will smoke nicely over the fire in my cookhouse."
The afternoon drew on, and the tide rose to its height. Willie, looking out over the bar, decided that the moment for his departure had arrived. He went to the stern of the yacht where the yawl had been tied up.
"One moment," said Madame. "Those cases which Clifford bought? The port and the cherry brandy? Shall we throw them overboard, Willie?"
The boy's face worked uneasily. He had tasted of the juice of the Californian grape and found it very good. He had decided not to go to England to claim his lordship, but had not decided to cut himself loose from all white seductions. It was his intention to carry the cases to his island, and there to offer alcoholic hospitality to the girl Marie. Madame knew nothing of what passed through his opening mind.
"Shall we throw the cases into the sea?" she enquired anxiously. "It will be better so, Willie, my dear."
Willie did not refuse her in words. He stood hesitating, and then suddenly leaped over the rail. Down he dropped true upon the yawl's deck, and steadied himself with one hand on the mainmast. In a moment he had cast off and run up the sails.