“That is very generous of you, Marsh. I would have much liked to have taken her into my own house, but—my wife, you know.”
Two weeks later Marsh left the island in an American whaleship, which was to touch at Samoa. There he intended to buy a small cutter, and then proceed to the Western Pacific, where he hoped to better his fortunes by trading throughout the various islands of the wild New Hebrides and Solomon Groups.
During the voyage to Samoa he one day asked Pautôe if she would not like to go to school in Samoa with white and half-caste girls, some of her own age, and others older.
Such an extraordinary change came over the poor child's face that Marsh was astounded. For some seconds she did not speak, but breathed quickly and spasmodically as if she were physically exhausted, then her whole frame trembled violently. Then a sob broke from her.
“Be not angry with me, Tikki,... but I would rather die than stay in Samoa,... away from thee and Ali and Leota. Oh, master——” she ceased speaking and sobbed so unrestrainedly that Marsh was moved. He waited till she had somewhat calmed herself, and then said gravely:—
“'Twill be a great thing for thee, Pautôe, this school. Thou wilt be taught much that is good, and the English lady who has the school will be kind——”
“Nay, nay, Tikki,” she cried brokenly, “send me not away, I beseech thee. Let me go with thee, and Âli and Leota, to those new, wild lands. Oh, cast me not away from thee. Where thou goest, let me go.”
Marsh smiled. “Thou art another Ruth, little one. In such words did Ruth speak to Naomi when she went to another country. Dost know the story?”
“Aye, I know the story, and I have no fear of wild lands. Only have I fear of seeing no more all those I love if thou dost leave me to die in Samoa.”
Again the trader smiled as he bade her dry her tears.