“Yes, I am Dick,” was the answer. “Oh, Charlie, I should never have forgiven myself if you had lost your life, for it was I, from what you tell me, who brought you out here.”

“You will have plenty of time to talk about this by-and-by,” said Harry. “Let me advise you at once to go to bed.”

Charles Tilston acknowledged the wisdom of this advice, and Harry and old Tom assisting to get off his clothes put him into my berth, when having swallowed some warm broth he fell fast asleep. Dick begged that he might be allowed to remain and watch over him, promising not to speak again till he saw that his brother was sufficiently recovered to enter into conversation. As Harry thought a doctor should see our guest he sent me on shore to procure the services of one who had a short time before landed from a whaler. While I was waiting for him Toa landed, and was received with loud acclamations by all the people, the account of his having so gallantly saved the child being the theme of conversation.

As Harry was now only waiting for a breeze to sail, thinking that I might not see Toa again, I bade him farewell, and thanked him for having saved my life.

“I must come and see you to-morrow morning,” he said. “You will not sail till then, as there will be no wind to carry you out. And now, my friend, I have a favour to ask, I must beg you to tell the fair Pearl of the Ocean that her figure has ever been present before my eyes, that her voice has rung in my ear, that my thoughts have been occupied with her, and her alone, ever since I saw her.”

“I will not fail to deliver your message,” I answered. “But I must remind you of what my brother said, and you must not be disappointed should she decline your offer.” I flattered myself that I had made a very diplomatic reply, but the young chief did not look at all satisfied as I wished him good-bye.

I returned on board with the doctor, who prescribed for Charles Tilston, and said he had little doubt that he would soon come round. I did not fail to give Fanny the chiefs message. She and Mary laughed heartily.

“I must not tamper with his affections,” she said, “but I cannot possibly encourage him, and I think that when he comes on board again it will be better for me not to appear.”

Mary and I agreed with her, and it was settled that she should remain in the cabin when Toa paid his farewell visit. In former years had a chief conceived a similar fancy he would probably have attempted to carry off the lady by force, but this was not likely to occur under present circumstances. Harry, however, thought it prudent to keep a strong watch at night on deck. It was my middle watch, and as I was looking out across the harbour I thought I saw a fleet of canoes passing at some distance from where we lay; still, as I felt sure that Toa would not use any violence, this did not make me anxious. The canoes soon disappeared, but after some time I fancied that I again saw them hovering in the distance. Presently I heard a voice, which sounded softly as it came over the water, singing in the Samoan language. What was the meaning of the words I could not tell, but it struck me that they were those of a love ditty, and that Toa had taken this method of expressing the feelings of his heart. As Fanny was probably fast asleep in her cabin, it would be entirely thrown away upon her, and I had no intention of calling her up to listen to the serenade. I determined, however, to call Harry should the canoes approach nearer; but the song ceased, and they disappeared in the darkness.

I told old Tom, who relieved me.