“It's a deal,” said Martin; “are you game to part ten sovereigns for the girl's mother, and I'll get her back from the natives!”
“No,” said Chaplin, rising \ “the girl's enough for me.”
She had risen and was looking at Martin with a pallid face and set teeth, and then without a word of farewell on either side she picked up a Panama hat and, fan in hand, walked down to the boat and got in, waiting for Chaplin.
Presently he came down, and said, “Well, Mr. Denison, I suppose, as matters are arranged, you'll want to land Martin some trade?”
“Oh, no,” said Denison, “he's got plenty. This tabu on his own business will teach him a lesson. But I want to send him some provisions on shore. By the way, captain, that girl's likely to prove expensive to you. I hope you'll put her ashore at Rotumah till the voyage is nearly over.”
“No,” said he, “I won't. Of course, I know our godly owners would raise a deuce of a row about my buying the girl if I couldn't pay for her keep while she's on board, but I've got a couple of hundred pounds in Auckland, as they know, besides some cash on board. After I've paid that thundering blackguard I've still some left, and I mean to put her ashore at Levuka to live until I can take her to her destination.”
“Why,” Denison queried, “what are you going to do with her?”
“Just this: there's a friend of mine in Honolulu always willing to give a few thousand dollars for a really handsome girl. And I believe that girl will bring me nearly about three thousand dollars.”