“Blow me! I’d ’a’ hated to been that poor kanaka! But Doctor Cassiou, the coroner, said it was suicide all right. Llewellyn’s in the clear.”
“Of course, ’e ’s in the clear, an’ proper right,” said Pincher, irritatedly. “But when the letter’s mailed to ol’ Morton in Frisco, ’e comes down on the nex’ steamer, an’ carries a gun to kill Llewellyn, an’ tells everybody ’at Llewellyn dragged his nephew to ’ell, an’ M’seer Lontane takes ’is gun away when Llewellyn meets ’im in Lovaina’s porch, an’ ’e pulls the gun, an’ the Dummy stops ’im, and Llewellyn grabs a knife off the table. Why, there’s some reason for ’im comin’ in ’ere like a bloody queer un an’ abusin’ us.”
“Hell! that’s all over!” said Hallman. “I’ll tell you, Llewellyn’s always been sour. That’s what that dam’ German university highfalutin’ education does for you. It takes the guts out of you. I know. I never had any of it. I’m a business man, by God! and I’m not crammed full of Dago and other rot. All the Davids in the world could croak on my doorstep, and if the police couldn’t get me for it, I’d worry. I—”
“Belay there!” Lying Bill shouted at Hallman. “You don’t know Llewellyn like I do. How about the tupapau, the bloody ghosts? You forget that Llewellyn’s a quarter Kanaka, an’ born ’ere. All that German university stuff ain’t no good against the tupapau. Suppose you were part Kanaka, an’ the kid ’ad done what ’e did? I’ve seen some things myself in these waters. That’s what’s eatin’ Llewellyn, an’, believe me, it’s goin’ to kill ’im if he don’t bloody well drink ’imself dead, first. I’ve seen too many Kanakas go that way when the tahua got the tupapau after them. Llewellyn remembers what Lovaina said ol’ man Morton hollered when M’seer Lontane took the gun away from him at the Tiare. ‘All right!’ hollered the uncle. ‘All right! I’ll leave it to God!’ The ol’ boy loved that kid. ’E told Lovaina ’at ’is whole bloody family was drowned when the Rio Janeiro went down off Mile Rock in Frisco bay. The kid was ’is sister’s only child, an’ ’is uncle left a thousand francs with the American consul for a proper tombstone on ’is grave in the cemetery. The ol’ gent worshipped that kid.”
Our session was over, the dinner hour having come; but Hallman had his final say:
“If Llewellyn ’s got the tupapau horrors, for God’s sake! let him stay away from the club. It’s got so I hate to see him come in here, looking like a death’s head. He spoils my drink. I’d rather be in the Marquesas with old Hemeury François, who is dyin’ by inches of the spell Mohuto ’s put on him. They’re alike, these Kanakas; they’re afraid of God and the devil, their own and the dam’ missionary outfit, too. They’ve got them coming and going. No wonder they’re getting so scarce you can’t get any work done.”
The next day was all preparation. I would be gone several months, the usual time for the voyage of a trading schooner to the Marquesas and return to Papeete. I had no bother about clothes, as I was to be in the same climate, and in less formal circles even than in Tahiti. But I desired to carry with me a type-writer, and mine was out of order. There was no tinker of skill in Papeete, and I had about given up hope of repairs, when Lovaina said:
“May be that eye doctor do you. He married one of those girl whose father before ran away with that English ship and Tahiti girls to Pitcairn Island, and get los’ there till all chil’ren grow up big. He has little house on rue de Petit Pologne.”
I found on that street in a cottage an American vendor of spectacles, who by some chance of propinquity had married a descendant of a mutineer of the Bounty. I surrendered my machine to him while I talked with his wife, whose ancestors, one English, the other Tahitian, had sailed away from here generations ago, after the crew had possessed themselves of the British warship Bounty, and cast their officers adrift at sea. She was a resident of Norfolk Island, and I wished I had time to hear the full story of her life. But before we had come to more than platitudes, the eye doctor had repaired the type-writer, and called his wife to other duties.
We had a going-away dinner at the Tiare hotel, Landers, Polonsky, McHenry, Hallman, Schlyter, the tailor, and Lieutenant L’Hermier des Plantes, a French army surgeon who was sailing on the Fetia Taiao to the Marquesas to be acting governor there. Lovaina would not join us, but after we had eaten an excellent dinner, she came in while we drank her health. Llewellyn had been asked, but did not appear, and McHenry said he was “very low” at five o’clock when he passed him on the rue de Rivoli. Lying Bill preferred to spend his last evening ashore with his native wife, or else wished to avoid the chance of a headache on the morrow.