There were hurried questions exchanged between the brothers after father and Effie. But the answers were interrupted by the appearance of Mr. Bowen.
"Pay your rower," he shouted to Edwin, "and join our party. I am taking your little brother and sister home, for I am going to the hills to make inquiries into the state of distress."
Before Edwin could reply, Whero, with a look at the old identity as if he defied the whole world to interfere with him, was whispering to Edwin,—
"These men are fooling us. They will not take us to Christchurch. They are going the wrong way."
Edwin was as much alarmed as Whero at the thought of going back; but he knew Mr. Bowen had no authority to detain him against his will.
"Our errand admits of no delay," he answered, as he resigned the paddle to Whero.
The canoe shot forward.
"Good-bye! good-bye!" cried Edwin.
Sailors and passengers were exclaiming at their reckless speed, for Whero was rowing with all his might. The number of the boats and barges increased as they drew nearer the coast.
"Lie down again amongst the rushes," entreated Whero, "or we may meet some other pakeha who will know your English face."