“I can only ascribe to a more than ordinarily lively imagination,” observed the vice-admiral, further on, “the remark made this morning by Mr. Dawson, my secretary, to the effect that he thought he saw last night some scattered fires burning on the sea-shore, such as are generally kindled by the fishermen and pirates of these coasts. After all, although Kouparou is very difficult to approach, and of course still more difficult to effect a landing upon, in the midst of the reefs which form a belt round it to a distance of eight leagues, it is not by any means impossible that fishermen, castaways, or even pirates, may have lighted some fires such as Mr. Dawson believed he saw. Should they have done so, they will most likely depart on the morrow, believing the island to be uninhabited, like the greater number of those which form the vast archipelago of Sooloo. All I have to say is, ‘Joy go with them.’
“To-day, Mr. Dawson, after having gone over to that part of the beach where he thought he saw the smoke ascending last evening, has been to tell me that he must have been deceived. He saw no footprints in the sand, nor any remains of burnt wood anywhere near the shore. He admits it must have been an illusion on his part; I felt sure of it.
“To-morrow, the first of June, I have arranged to give a grand fête here, in my cool verandah, to the officers of the Halcyon and their families. It will be an agreeable relief to the monotonous sort of lives we have been leading during the past two months.
“I have this moment had brought to me a long poignard, found by one of our sailors, plunged in the sand on the shore opposite that which Mr. Dawson examined this morning. What can it possibly portend?
“A saw-poignard, and with teeth of the Malay form; in other words, a crees, since this is the name which the brigands of Oceania give to this murderous and nearly always poisonous weapon. Dawson, who is as superstitious as an Irishman can be, indulged in a variety of comments. The sailor who found the crees could give us no additional information respecting it.”
“Yes”—I asked in my turn of the journal which I had beneath my questioning gaze—“yes, what did this poignard portend? Whence did it come? Why had it been stuck by its point in the sand?”
Admiral Campbell did not say another word respecting it, but passed from it to his fête, which was evidently the thing uppermost in his mind at this moment.
“As the weather is magnificently fine,” he went on to say, “I have arranged for us to dine in the verandah court, and we shall in this case remain at table till the time arrives for opening the ball; we shall then proceed to the great gallery, where dancing will commence. I certainly owe to my brave officers and their families such amusements as I am able to furnish them with, to repay them for the fatigues and annoyances they have experienced during the six months which have elapsed since we left Macao, although latterly our discomforts have certainly been fewer than usual. I trust that everything will go off satisfactorily, and that these gentlemen and their excellent helpmates will have cause to thank me to-morrow for the agreeable entertainment I have provided for them.
“But for the inquietude, becoming every day more serious, which the prolonged absence of my good Tagals causes me, I should be perfectly happy in this altogether unknown and nearly desert island. Can some misfortune have overtaken them? What if these Malays have suspected the motive of their visit? But no; my faithful envoys, a little slow, as all primitive people are, will arrive to-morrow, perhaps this evening.”