Then he went on, and dearly and lucidly detailed his scheme to the chief, afterwards translating his remarks into English for the benefit of Frewen, who listened with the keenest interest. Cheyne, of course, understood Samoan perfectly.
Raymond's plan was simple enough.
He proposed to take the Casilda's boat, and with Frewen, Cheyne, and a few natives go boldly off and board the ship, and representing himself as a trader anxious to buy European provisions, begin to work by throwing the mutineers off their guard, by warning them of the danger the ship was in through being in so close to the land during a calm, for the currents in the Straits of Manono were very strong and she would be carried on to the reef unless she was towed out of the danger limit towards which he would say (and truthfully enough) that she was drifting. The mutineers, he felt convinced, would feel so alarmed that they would listen to and accept his suggestion to let him engage the services of half a dozen native boats, whose united efforts would soon place the ship out of danger by towing her out of the danger zone. Then he and those with him would bide their time, and at a given signal spring upon the mutineers, who would be completely off their guard.
He entered into the details so minutely that not only Frewen and Cheyne, but Malië as well, expressed the warmest admiration and approval. Then he told Malië exactly what to do when he (the chief) saw the whale-boat leaving the ship to return to the shore, and Malië listened carefully to his instructions and promised that they should be carried out exactly as he desired.
Then the stalwart chief and his orator rose to take their leave, for they had to call the people together and acquaint them with what was to be done.
“Have no fear, Lêmonti, that the calm will break,” he said in reply to a fear expressed by the planter that a breeze might, after all, spring up and carry the ship too far off the land for the attempt to be made. “'Tis a calm that will last for many days. Look at the mountains of Savai'i”—and he pointed out the cloud-capped summits of the range that traverses the great island of Savai'i—“when the clouds lie white and heavy and low down it meaneth no wind for many days, not as much as would stir a palm-leaf. But there will be rain at night—much rain.”
“The better for our purpose,” said Raymond, as the chief left the house. “Now, Randall, we must hurry along. Take half a dozen of my people, and let them catch a couple of pigs and plenty of fowls; then cut about a dozen or so large bunches of bananas and get enough other fruit—pineapples, sugar-cane, guavas, and young coco-nuts as will make a big show in the boat. Mr. Frewen and I will join you in about a quarter of an hour, and then you and he can show the natives how to stow the things, as I have suggested to the chief.”
Returning to the house he sought out his wife.
“Marie, we are going to recapture that ship. Don't be alarmed, and don't say anything to poor Mrs. Marston till you see us returning; but you may tell the mate.”
Mrs. Raymond never for one instant thought of trying to dissuade her husband from a mission which she felt was full of danger. She kissed him, and said, “Tell me what to get ready, Tom.”