There, at the front of the oyster, and slightly to one side, was the most marvelous pearl upon which the eyes of the men had ever rested. It was the size of an ordinary hen’s egg, clear and pure, and worth a sum of money which neither of the astounded men dared attempt to guess.
For a few seconds they were speechless, and then Inez clapped her hands with delight, and asked:
“Is that for me?”
“Yes, that is yours,” replied Captain Bergen. “The mate and I give it to you, to be yours and no one’s else.”
“Isn’t it splendid?” cried Inez, catching it up, passing it from one hand to the other, holding it up in the sunlight, and showing as much genuine pleasure as if she were a veritable South Sea Islander, presented with some new trinket.
“That,” said Mate Storms, “may be called The Pearl of the Pacific!”
“No,” objected the captain, “it is she who is the pearl of this great ocean, for it was upon its surface that we first saw her, and she has proved herself far above the worth of pearls or diamonds or rubies. To her, under heaven, my life, and not impossibly yours, is owing. The greatest pleasure of this voyage has come from her companionship, and all that I ask now is that we shall be able to preserve this wealth for her, and that the opportunity may be ours to do our full duty toward her.”
Mate Storms looked admiringly at the captain, who had so eloquently expressed his own sentiments.
“You are right, Jack,” said he, speaking in his familiar way. “It is she who is the Pearl of the Pacific!”