I had a start as we passed through the big room, for the floor was covered with figures stretched out like corpses on the mats. “From the huts on the beach,” Simmons explained. “That’s what makes me think it’s going to be a bad storm.”
He braced himself to hold the door open for me, and added in a sudden shout as the roar of the storm came about us: “A little harder than last time, and the pavilion would go.”
The path to the pavilion ran just above the coral shingle along the foot of the ridge. Ordinarily it was ten feet above high tide, but as we struggled on, hugging the bank to keep from being blown flat by the wind, I could catch a glimpse of creaming, sullen-looking water not two yards away. Slipping up quietly it was, and the soundlessness of its rising was more uncanny than all the bustle and roar on the reefs outside.
We had a struggle to get on, and Simmons hung on to me to keep me from being blown into the lagoon. I began to wish I hadn’t come, and I thought of the peaceful mission house in Taku and of Molly.
“Mr. Cartwright’s there,” Simmons says suddenly in my ear. “I see his light. Hang tight. The wind’s worse out here.”
And it was. An awful clap came, driving us to our knees. I saw a huge bulk crash down between us and the pavilion. The light disappeared.
“The breadfruit tree,” said Simmons, in a hoarse voice. He clawed his way over the fallen branches and I managed to follow, shivering to think of what a misstep would do for me. At last we made out Cartwright struggling in the wreckage brought down by the fallen tree.
“You, Simmons?” he cried. “Quick! Give a hand with this piano. We must get it to higher ground.”
His voice sounded sane enough, but it was the speech of a crazy man. The only path up the ridge was a mere goat trail, fully exposed to the wind. And Cartwright was suggesting our carrying the piano up that! Simmons jerked his lantern up to Cartwright’s face. There was wildness with a vengeance. But my word! How beautiful he looked with his fair, tossed hair, and his eyes purple black with excitement.
“It’s you we’ve come for, sir,” Simmons says to him. “The water’s backing up fast. There’s no time to lose.”