Rudd—one of Raymond's partners—laughed. “Ah, Mrs. Raymond, why go to Sydney when all of the few other white ladies here are satisfied with Dennis Murphy's 'Imporium' at Apia, where, as he says, 'Yez can get annything ye do be wantin' from a nadle to an anchor, from babies' long clothes to pickled cabbage and gunpowder.'”
“Indeed, we are going there this day week,” broke in Mrs. Raymond. “There are a lot of things Mrs. Marston and I want, and we mean to turn the 'Emporium' upside down. But we are not entirely selfish, Tom; we are buying new mosquito netting for you, Mr. Rudd, Mr. Meredith, Mr. Young, and Mr. Lorimer.” (The two last-named were the overseers.)
“How are you going, Marie?” asked Raymond with a smile; “we can't spare the cutter, and you don't want to be drowned in a taumualua.'
“Ah! we are not the poor, weak women you think we are. We are quite independent—we are going to cross overland; and, more than that, we shall be away eight days.”
“Clever woman!” retorted Raymond. “It is all very well for you, Marie—you have crossed over on many occasions; but Mrs. Marston does not understand our mountain paths.”
“My dear Tom, don't trouble that wise head of yours. I have azranged everything. Furthermore, the babies are coming with us! Serena, Olivee, and one of Malië's girls—and I don't know how many others are to be baby carriers. We go ten miles the first day along the coast, sleep at Falelatai that night; then cross the range to the little bush village at the foot of Tofua Mountain, sleep there, and then go on to Malua in the morning. At Malua we get Harry Bevere's boat, and he takes us to Apia. Tom, it is a cut-and-dried affair, but now that I've told you of it, I may as well tell you that Maliê has aided and abetted us—the dear old fellow. We shall be treated like princesses at every village all along the route, and I doubt very much if we shall do much walking at all—we shall be carried on fata” (cane-work litters).
“All very well, my dear; but you and Malië have been counting your chickens too soon. Harry Revere is now in our employ, and I yesterday sent a runner to him to go off to Savai'i and buy us a hundred tons of yams; and he has left by now.”
“Oh, Tom!” and Mrs. Raymond looked so blankly disappointed that all her guests laughed. “Is there no other way of getting to Apia by water?”
“No, except by toumualua—and a pretty nice time you and Sirs. Marston and the suffering infants would have in a native boat! On the other hand you can walk—you are bent on walking—and by going along the coast you can reach Apia in about four days. Give the idea up, Marie, for a month or so, when Malië and some of his people can take you and Mrs. Marston to Apia in comfort in the cutter.”
Villari turned his dark eyes to Mrs. Raymond—