We had spent hours over the search, and we had just time to retrace our steps and get back to the boat on the beach and partake of our evening meal when night fell. As we sat by the fire that night, I made two little bags out of a piece of canvas taken from a bread bag, and we put the jewels into them, dividing them into equal parts. One bag she wore constantly thereafter on her person, and I the other.
My mistress was at first anxious to stow them away in some crack or cranny of the rock, but I said, I scarcely knew why, that it would be better to keep them always with us, and so we did. She insisted that the rough and ready division we had made was permanent, that the bag I carried belonged to me and the bag she carried belonged to her. But I refused to have it so in spite of her argument and there we left it.
CHAPTER XV
WHEREIN THE SERPENT ENTERS THE EDEN
DURING the next two or three days we leisurely explored the island. There was much in it of interest, of course, but nothing else which merits any particular description or has any bearing on this story. We did not again visit the central hill, nor did we enter any other cave. We did not even go near the treasure cave again, on the contrary we kept to the open. There were charming groves within the walls, but we could not bear to be shut up within the great cup. It seemed not unlike a prison to us. Outside we could at least see the vast expanse of the restless ocean. We chose to live near the sea on the beach which was high above all tides and which was far removed from the charnel spots which made a mockery of the sylvan groves within the walls. The island was well provided with tropical fruits, many being good for food, as I knew. We caught fish in the lagoon and turtle on the sand. We could make a fire and cook our food. There was salt in plenty. My tailoring and cobbling stood the test. We lacked nothing to make us comfortable, even happy, except the means of escape. My comrade was never in better health in her life. Roses bloomed in her cheeks again and I—I was more than contented in her society.
We spent our days in trying to devise some means of getting across the reef and back home again, that is when I was not idly lying at the feet or following the footsteps of the woman I loved. I didn’t want to get away so far as I was concerned. I didn’t care whether we ever got away. I had wit enough not to let her see, not to let her suspect that for a moment, however—at least I made the endeavor—and I tried to convince her by my actions at least that my kissing her on the ship had been but a momentary madness, but I learned later that I failed lamentably. She says now that a baby could see that I was dying for her, and I suppose it is true, but at least I didn’t say anything. After that outbreak in the cave I kept silence.
As I look back upon those days I scarcely think she treated me kindly, and yet I know not. I was at once happy and miserable—very happy in her presence, very miserable in the thought that I was and could be nothing to her. She played upon me as if I had been a pipe, she led me on and she repelled me, she drew me and she drove me. I had wit, however, to see that she was enjoying it, even if I did not; and I was in some measure content that she should be glad. It was a fool’s paradise in which we lived. We had no care, nothing could touch us, nothing could hurt us—at least so we fancied. We had water in plenty and enough to eat of pleasant variety, fruit, fish fresh caught from the lagoon, the meat and eggs of the turtle, relieved by the edibles we had brought from the ship, of which we still had some small store left. The air was soft and balmy, the birds sang, the flowers bloomed. We were young, I loved blindly, passionately; she, as I know now though I never suspected it then, with her beautiful eyes open—that is if eyes that love are ever open. Eden, Eden! Ah it was there!
We made frequent trips up the stairs and into the cup of the island, we traversed as much of the wall as possible, although that was but little because the sharp, jagged edges when we left the path would have cut our feet to pieces. We fished, we launched the boat on the lagoon and rowed clear around the island. I left her sometimes that she might refresh herself in dips within the cool water, while I did the same further away and out of sight. Like Adam and Eve we lived in that Garden and dallied with the forbidden fruit even if we did not eat it. Aye, and the serpent came, as of old, into that soft Pacific Paradise.
Late one afternoon we stood at the head of the stairs looking seaward. We had come from a long ramble throughout the cup of the island and as we stood on the top our gaze as usual instinctively turned toward the sea, perhaps seeking for the sail of some rescuing ship. The water was black with great formidable looking war canoes!
We could not believe our eyes at first. We stared at the water in amazement, motionless, awe-struck, appalled. This time it was I who came to my senses first.
“Great God!� I cried, “look yonder.�