“Now, Ahleka, how do you like my appearance?” Mabel inquired, after having arrayed herself in her simple garments.
“You always look charming in my eyes,” he replied, “still, I cannot but think that the costume of our country allows more freedom of movement, and on that account it is much more graceful and becoming.”
“Yes, what you say is true and I admit that I hate to put on again the uncomfortable clothes which women wear in my own land.”
“What is that you say Mabel?” broke in Captain Gray. “Do you mean to say that you like the hideous dress of the heathens that we have lived amongst for the past three years?”
“Captain Gray, they are not heathens. Their religion is the true religion. They worship the bestower of all good; they see the beautiful works of God all about them and give him the glory. Their religion is sincerity, purity and love. What more can there be in any religion?”
“You talk it very nicely Mabel, and I presume you believe what you say; it is as well that you do, as you are going to marry Ahleka; but I said, and I meant it too, that I would rather see Etta die than have her marry one of those heathens, and, mourning for my dead child as deeply as I do, I still say that I would rather have her dead than married to Uala or any other beggarly, black-skinned rascal.”
“Captain Gray, your daughter is not dead,” broke in Ahleka. “She has a much happier fate, for, in all likelihood, she is, before this time, happily united to the man of her choice, from whom she would not part at the command of her father.”
“What do you mean, Etta not dead? Do you mean to say that she was not drowned in the sea-cave? Why didn’t you tell me before we left the island, that she might still be alive?” exclaimed Captain Gray.
“Because,” replied Ahleka, “I knew that you would part those two fond hearts which nature had intended for each other.”
“You worthless wretch! how dared you keep it from me, her father? But what better could I expect from you, a fellow of no principle or education, than, trickery or deception.”