Seeing that my friend was quite overcome by the charms of the belle of the evening, I only danced with her once, devoting most of my attention to Mrs. P——.
We had songs, both German and English; solos, duets, trios and quartettes.
What a night we had! At midnight, I suggested the expediency of going on board our cutter; but, no, my friend would not hear of it. He was utterly infatuated. Ten minutes more, and he would come—but the ten minutes developed into sixty—until at last I managed to drag him away from the alluring spot.
The three of us then regretfully bade our friends good-night, and repaired on board the cutter.
Arrived at the jetty, we hailed, in loud tones, Tokaiakus, the Dwarf—who was supposed to be in charge of the vessel. Not a sound came in response. We hailed him again—and again no answer.
Our dinghy was alongside the cutter, so we could not reach her without swimming.
After shouting ourselves hoarse, and consigning the dwarf to warmer regions, his ugly head appeared above the bulwarks, and he came in the dinghy—into which we gladly stepped—and were quickly rowed on board.
We felt rather tired, and soon sought our couches—each of us dreaming that he was in Paradise, attended by a bevy of Samoan damsels.
In the morning we received a visit from Count Pfeil.
He examined our "papers" and inquired what firearms we had on board, and if we carried dynamite. Having given satisfactory answers to his several queries he stated that he had decided to impose on us a fine of £1 that being the lowest amount he could inflict for our evasion of the German regulations.