“You need not be,” Dan assured her and stroked the glorious head of her. “I met Mr. Muggridge half an hour ago when I landed and I observed that he seemed interested when I asked about you. He looked to me like a man with a fire in his soul. . . . Well, he’s a minister of the Gospel, however, so I dare say if he struggles hard enough he can put the fire out long enough to pronounce us man and wife.”
“But—a license is necessary if we would marry after the fashion of your people, beloved,” she reminded him. “And there is no law in Riva, although the island is claimed by the French Government.”
“It will be better than no marriage at all, Tamea.”
She smiled. “Such a queer, strange people, you all-whites,” was her comment. “It is not a marriage but a substitute, yet you would ask this man to perform a mummery to satisfy something in you that is a heritage from your ancestors. I have no such heritage. For me, no mumbling of words by this mad priest is necessary to happiness.”
“Well, they are necessary to me, strange as it may seem to you, Tamea,” Dan replied with his shy smile. “You are half white and I am all white and it is my purpose to dwell with you on a white basis. Therefore, we will wed according to the custom of my people.”
“As you will,” Tamea agreed. “Is it that this matter touches your honor if I will it otherwise?”
He nodded. “Then come to Mr. Muggridge,” the girl urged, and led him by the hand down the hill to the missionary’s house. Sooey Wan was standing in the doorway and at sight of Tamea he uncovered respectfully.
“Faithful one,” Tamea hailed him and gave him her hand in huge delight. Sooey Wan shook it gingerly, his yellow teeth flashing the while in an ecstatic grin.
At the sound of voices and footsteps on the veranda, Mr. Muggridge came out. “You have returned quite soon, Mr. Pritchard,” he began, and then his glance rested on Tamea. “Well?” he demanded irritably.
“Mr. Muggridge,” Dan said to him, “it is my desire that you should marry Mademoiselle Larrieau and me at once.”