“The key of this thy house, Tâmu,” she murmured in the native tongue, as she placed it in his hand.
“Enter thou first, Loisé,” and he waved it away.
A faint smile of pleasure illumined her face; Baldwin, rough and careless as he was, was yet studious to observe native custom.
The white men followed her, and then in the open doorway Baldwin stopped, turned, and raised his hand, palm outwards, to the throng of natives without.
“I thank thee, friends, for thy welcome. Dear to mine ears is the sound of the tongue of the men of Rikitea. See ye this young man here. He is the son of my friend who is now dead—he whom some of ye have seen, Kapeni Paraisi” (Captain Brice).
A tall, broad-shouldered native, with his hair streaming down over his shoulders, strode up the steps, and taking the young man's hand in his, placed it to his forehead.
“The son of Paraisi is welcome to Rikitea, and to me, the chief of Rikitea.”
There was a murmur of approval; Baldwin waved his hand again, and then, with Brice, entered the house.
Outside, the boy and girl, seated on the verandah steps, talked and waited for orders.
Said Maturei, “Loisé, think you that now Tâmu hath found thee to be faithful to his house and his name that he will marry thee according to the promise made to the priests at Tenararo when he first brought thee here?”