Had these monstrous charges been made by a man Kualu would have answered them with blows; but, as they were the foolish and inconsiderate ravings of a woman, without venturing further reply he took his leave, and with a heart filled with stifled rage and anguish strode from the palace.
Proceeding up the valley, Kualu entered the hut of Waahia. He found the kaula alone, as usual. She knew he was coming, but was none the less rejoiced to meet him. With a word or two of greeting he sat down in silence. The cruel words of Kaheka still stuck like thorns in his throat. Waahia regarded him intently for a time, and then said:
“I know it all. Kalaunui’s army has been destroyed. You escaped in a canoe with three others.”
“And Kalaunui?” questioned Kualu, not a little amazed at the correctness of her information.
“Is a prisoner,” replied the kaula.
“Thank the gods for that!” exclaimed the chief vehemently. “He must be liberated, for he can tell her that in escaping I acted neither with cowardice nor treachery!”
“Tell whom?” inquired the kaula.
“Kaheka,” answered Kualu. “She charges me with cowardice and desertion.”
“Then Kaheka accuses you of what I know to be false!” said Waahia.
“Yes,” returned the chief; “but the witnesses to my fidelity are few and humble, and the words of the king can alone relieve me in the eyes of the aha alii of the disgrace with which the charges of Kaheka will cover me.”