* It will doubtless strike the reader as being peculiar that
an educated and refined woman such as I have endeavoured to
portray in Mrs. Raymond would allow a servant to address her
by her Christian name. But the explanation is very simple:
In many European families living in Polynesia and in
Micronesia the native servants usually address their masters
and mistresses and their children by their Christian names—
unless it is a missionary household, when the master would
be addressed as “Misi “(Mr.) and the mistress as “Misi
fafine “(Mrs.). The difference does not in the least imply
that the servant speaks to the lay white man and his wife in
a more familiar manner than he would to his spiritual
teacher. No disrespect nor rude familiarity is intended—
quite the reverse; it is merely an affectionate manner of
speaking to the employer, not as an employer, but as the
friend of the household generally. It is related of the
martyred missionary John Williams, that a colleague of his
in Tahiti once reproved a native youth for addressing Mr.
Williams as “Viriamu” (Williams) instead of “Misi Yiriamu”
(Mr. Williams), whereupon the pioneer of missionary
enterprise in the South Seas remarked—” It does not matter,
Mr. ——-, I infinitely prefer to be called
'Viriamu' than 'Tione Viriamu Mamae' (the Sacred, or
Reverend, John Williams).”
She rose and followed the girl to the room where Marston lay. His wife was kneeling by him with her lips pressed to his.
Marie Raymond knelt beside her, and passed her arm around her waist.
CHAPTER X
Closely followed by the five native boats, that in which Raymond was seated with Maliê, and which was steered by Randall Cheyne, first came alongside, and the latter called out to Foster, who was standing in the waist, to pass down the end of the tow line. This was at once done, and then, as Maliê and Raymond left the boat and ascended to the deck, Cheyne went ahead with his tow line, and was soon joined by the native craft, and within a quarter of an hour the Esmeralda was moving through the water.
The instructions given to the half-caste by the chief and Frewen were to tow the ship to the south-east, with the land on the port hand. This would not only take her out of danger, but would prevent suspicion being engendered in the minds of the mutineers by their seeing that she was actually being taken away from, instead of towards the land. Both Frewen and Maliê had decided that she was not to be re-captured till she was well into soundings, for events might arise which would necessitate her being brought to an anchor, especially if continuous heavy rain should fall during the night.
As soon as Raymond and the stalwart chief ascended to the poop, the pseudo-captain received them most affably, complimented them on the smart manner in which the boats had gone ahead with the line, and then asked them to take some refreshment The offer was accepted, for neither had had the inclination to eat anything on shore—they, like their men, were too eager to get possession of the ship to trouble about food.
Ryan sat at the table with them as they ate, and repeated his fiction regarding the accident to his chief officer, at which the planter politely expressed his concern. Then the mutineer, in a casual sort of a way, asked Raymond if there had been any English or American war-ships cruising about Samoa lately.
“No, not for a long time, but I did hear that the American corvette Adams was expected here last year, but she must have passed by here, and gone on to Fiji There is always work for a man-of-war there at any time—the Fijians are a rough lot, and hardly a month passes without some European trader or sailor being killed and eaten, or else badly hurt. Even at the present time all the people living in the eastward islands of the Fiji Group are rank cannibals. It is a place to be avoided.”