Eight boats lay clustered round the steamer. One of them was her own, a heavy white boat, carvel built, with high freeboard. Four men sat in her, resting on their oars. The other seven were island boats, gaily painted red and green, high prowed, high sterned. The biggest of them had a mast stepped right forward, a mast which raked steeply aft, across which lay the yard of a lateen sail. Six oarsmen sat in her. The other island boats were smaller. There were only two rowers in each. They had the same high bows and high sterns curving inwards, the same low freeboard amidships where the rowers sat. In them were many women and children.
On the deck of the Ida stood a little group of men. Captain Wilson’s neat alert figure was easily recognizable. Mr. Donovan’s white Panama hat was unmistakable. Phillips declared that the smaller man who stood beside Mr. Donovan was Smith, the steward. A little apart from them stood a tall bare-headed man. He had a long white beard. There seemed to be some kind of consultation going on. When the Queen and Phillips appeared on the steps below the castle the group on the steamer broke up. Captain Wilson, Mr. Donovan and Smith took places in the Ida’s lifeboat. The old man went into the largest of the island boats. He stood in the stern, his hand on the carved end of her huge tiller. The eight boats, tailing out in a long procession, rowed slowly towards the castle steps.
“They must be your subjects,” said Phillips. “They are coming to swear allegiance.”
“My!” said the Queen. “What shall I say? What shall I do? What will they do? They can’t all kiss my hand. There must be forty of them.”
“I think,” he said, “that you’d better stand beside the flagstaff. It’s a commanding sort of position. They’ll have to climb up the steps to get to you. I wish the breeze had not died away. The flag would look ever so much better if it blew out.”
The Queen climbed the steps and took her place beneath the limp royal standard. Mr. Phillips bared his head and stood behind her.
The boats reached the steps. Mr. Donovan landed. Smith stepped ashore after him. Captain Wilson bade his men push off. He remained, a critical observer of the scene, some twenty or thirty yards from the shore.
“Daisy,” said Mr. Donovan, “there’s going to be a pageant. The inhabitants of this island are going to demonstrate.”
“How shall I talk to them?” said the Queen. “What language do they speak?”