Three members of the Mission village's aristocracy, Scarecrow, Kingfisher and Captain Johnson, one of whom wore a bowler hat, green with age, and another, a child's tam-o'-shanter, legacies both of passing traders, had painted their faces scarlet and prepared quarter-staves dipped in pig's blood. Helmets of coco-nut husk were being rapidly distributed.
"W-we have these troubles periodically, w-would you believe it?" said Jellybrand. "There is no cause for alarm, but one has to show that the Mission is quite able to defend itself, should the raiders come on here. I am shutting up all my children in the Mission School and shall patrol outside it to-night w-with a loaded weapon."
He waved his gun valiantly at Cyprian and then let it off accidentally within a yard of Friend-of-England, who despite his elephantiasis, leapt lightly into the air.
"That ought to teach them to keep away from a loaded gun," the Defender of the Young remarked placidly, having ascertained that no one had received a pellet in the back.
"Young Brown has been detailed off to parade your house to-night, Mr. Sterne, and he will rouse you if your assistance is required."
Young Brown, a veteran of sixty, roused nothing but Cyprian's bitter enmity by the tumult of his snoring outside the bathroom door.
Luckily, the quarrel petered out in the village, where there was enough noise to attract every ghost in the cemetery, and as one party was getting the worst of a species of warfare worthy of Tweedledum and Tweedledee, the women interfered and separated the combatants with dahs. Whereupon, all broken fingers were displayed and bandaged, and the enemy remained on to feast with the raided party, returning peacefully homewards after a couple of days.
"Mr. Toms," the Government agent of doubtful nationality, made a note in his diary that, "James Snook, elder and landowner of Car Nicobar, committed suicide by hanging himself, owing to domestic troubles with his children, whom his ghost will, no doubt, exceedingly trouble."
* * * * * *
A few days later, the padre fell upon Ferlie and the children when they were sunning themselves in a sand-pit, clad in sea-weed, bathing costumes and shells. He, literally, fell upon them sliding down the soft slope and subsiding gracefully into Ferlie's lap, hitting Cyprian en route, a swinging blow with the cord of what the latter called the "wedding garment." He asked them if they would care to drive with him into the interior to view a moonlight festival that night. He made the suggestion rather wistfully as though aware that these twain needed no outside excitement to keep them interested in one another.