He asked, and learned that she was well known; and S——— wondered why she had brought her beauty to such a climate as that of Fiji when it would have paid her so much better to parade it in Melbourne.
The evening of the day on which his steamer arrived at Nouméa a man brought him a letter. He showed it to Chester.
My darling Will,—Thank God you have come, for surely you have come for me—my heart tells me so. For God's sake wait on board for me. I will come at eight. To live in this place is breaking my heart. Ever yours, ———
She came. He stood her kisses passively, but gave none in return, until she asked him to kiss her. “When you are my wife,” he said, evasively. And then—she must have loved him—she burst out into passionate sobs and fell at his feet in the quiet cabin and told him of her debased life in Fiji. “But, as God hears me, Will, that is all past since your last letter. I was mad. I loved money and did not care how I got it. I left Fiji to come here, intending to return to Australia. But, Will, dear Will, if it is only to throw me overboard, take me away from this hell upon earth. For your sake, Will, I have resisted them here, although I suffer daily, hourly, torture and insult. I have no money, and I am afraid to die and end my sufferings.”
Captain S———, speaking calmly and slowly, placed money in her hand and said, “You must not see me again till the day I am ready for sea. Then bring your luggage and come on board.”
With a smothered sob bursting from her, despite the joy in her heart, the woman turned and left him.
Then S——— went up to the Café Palais and played billiards with a steady hand.
There was a great number of people on board to see Captain S——— away. Presently a boat came alongside, and a young lady with sweet red lips and shiny hair ascended to the deck.
“Hèlas!” said a French officer to S———, “and so you are taking away the fair one who won't look at us poor exiles of Nouvelle.”