On this occasion he met us with the usual smile and outstretched hand.
"How do you do, Captain Hayston? I am glad—very glad to see you, and yet sorry; for you have my sincere sympathy for the loss of your beautiful vessel."
"Morland!" came the quick reply, "you know you are lying most infernally. You are no more pleased to see me than I am to see you. Our interests are too antagonistic for us to take kindly to each other. So let us at least be candid!"
"Oh! Captain Hayston!" rejoined Mr. Morland, "you terribly unkind man! Why must you hate the poor parson so? Oh! my friend, my countryman, let us shake hands as fellow-Christians should do when they meet in these lonely, beautiful spots of God's bright universe!"
Hayston smiled, but if he had but known that Mr. Morland was, even then, anxiously looking for the tall spars of one of Her Majesty's warships, and had actually been in communication with her captain a few days previously, he would possibly have half-strangled his pleasant-mannered visitor then and there.
After a short chat the missionary returned to the king's house with the Captain, while I busied myself with the repairs of the boat, when the startling cry of "Sail ho!" rang through the quiet village. I ran up to the king's house, and found the Captain in the courtyard playing a game of dominoes with Queen Sê.
The missionary and Likiak Sâ were just coming out from an interview with the king. The air of exultation on their faces as they saw the natives hurrying to and fro at the cry of "Sail ho!" struck me at once.
The Captain sprang up at once, and said, "Let us take the boat and go out to her, she may want a pilot"; and we walked through the house to the stone wharf that abutted on one side of the king's establishment. We jumped into the boat, and with a crew of four natives pulled quickly out of the passage. On gaining the open we could see no sail, and concluded that the ship must be coming round the north-eastern side of the island, where she had been sighted by the natives. We then set sail, and commenced beating to windward, and about half-an-hour afterwards, as the little boat rode on the swell, we got a sight of the lofty masts and square yards of a man-of-war under steam, as she rounded the high land on the north-east side of the island.
With a sudden exclamation the Captain stood up and gazed at the steamer. He then seated himself and seemed lost in thought. The great vessel came steadily on, then altered her course by a couple of points, and steered in the direction of the passage. I could see that she was under a full head of steam, and was travelling at a great rate. A volume of thick smoke was issuing from the yellow funnel, and as there is always a heavy sea off the windward side of Strong's Island she rolled tremendously, the water pouring from her black painted sides in sheets.
The Captain watched her intently. "That's a man-of-war, Hilary! and a Britisher too," he said. "Though she may be an American—the Portsmouth or the Jamestown; I can't tell with that smoke blowing ahead of her. If she's an American cruiser, she'll take me prisoner right enough. It's no use attempting to escape now. It's too late; I must take my chance. In that case you must get away to Utwé as quick as possible, and do the best you can with the station and the people. You know where the money is stowed away, and what to do with it if we are fated not to meet again."