After a restless night, gladdened somewhat by the thought that I had saved Crystal from a terrible fate, but for the most part troubled by fears of further danger, I rose early, and, passing through the gap in the plantation where I had encountered the wizard negro, walked over the field and down the valley towards the beach, thinking that perhaps I might learn something of Tiki’s fate.
Finding nothing to guide me, I climbed a high hill seaward, which overlooked the lower part of the Sound. From that vantage ground I could see nearly the whole of the slender arm of the sea which reached inland, the failing breath of the land breeze ruffling its waters. A glance at the sheltered cove where the yacht had been anchored told me that Cazotl had either shifted his position or put out to sea. I scanned the whole length of the Sound, and at last discerned the yacht passing into the shadows of the high cliffs which opened on to the Pacific. Her sails were swelling out to the breeze, and it was with a feeling of great relief that I watched her disappear between the high rocks. But my relief did not outlive reflection, for I soon saw that it was not at all probable that Cazotl would relinquish his object after one failure.
The sun had risen high in the sky by the time I had returned to the house, and while waiting for the breakfast-bell I strolled round the verandah. When I came to the corner dedicated to Tiki, I was surprised to find that faithful Maori coiled up on his bed of straw, wrapped in his mat, and fast asleep. He must have returned in my absence.
With an inconsiderate impatience to know what had befallen him I stooped down and touched him on the shoulder, knowing from experience that the slightest thing would wake him But he did not stir. I then shook him soundly, but he made no sign. With a sudden apprehension I bent over him and listened for his breathing. It was regular and deep; he was evidently sleeping off the effects of that strange poison, and, as far as I could judge, he was best left alone.
On going inside I encountered Grey coming downstairs.
“Good morning, Warnock,” he said, as he grasped my hand. “That was an extraordinary affair last night—can’t think what possessed the girl: she’s never done anything of that kind before. Good job you saw her, or there’s no telling what might have happened.”
“Yes, it was lucky I happened to be abroad,” I replied; “I went out to enjoy the thunderstorm.” Then I explained briefly how it had occurred, but omitted all mention of the negro and his infernal arts, as I thought it was better to keep that mysterious and alarming part of the matter to myself.
“Is she up yet?” I asked in conclusion.
“No; I’ve just been in to see her. She’s fast asleep and seems perfectly all right.”
“Ah! yes,” I said with assumed carelessness; “that’s the way out of those peculiar fits: to let them sleep as long as ever they will.”