A bright light, apparently caused by a huge fire, had sprung into view not far distant. As they raced forward they now passed on the road natives, singly and in twos and threes, hurrying toward the scene of festivity.
At the massive stone gateway leading into the plantation, the three drew rein and allowed their gasping ponies to walk.
As they drew nearer they saw that many fires had been kindled. The great space in front of the plantation house was flooded with light, about which hundreds of men and women had gathered. All were in gala attire. Each of the warriors carried his precious gun, with his cartridge belt of webbed material worn jauntily over his naked shoulder.
“Where shall I find the count?” Phil asked.
Avao fearlessly greeted the people, who gazed in amazement at the intruders. She called many by name and they, like children, soon forgetting their grievance, smiled back and bade her welcome.
“The count is at the house, they say,” the girl answered Phil’s question.
“You and Avao remain mounted,” Phil said, as they approached the low bungalow of the plantation, used as a residence for the manager and his white overseers. He noted that the wide porch was crowded with people dressed in white, and as he got closer he recognized the count’s strong figure with the high chief Kataafa standing beside him.
The great delicacy of his mission suddenly flashed upon him. Here were gathered nearly five thousand warriors, all armed with modern rifles. The power represented was in the hands of the two men before him. They could by one word hurl the entire assemblage upon the sailors now ashore in Ukula. Then another face appeared in the crowd, the sphynx-like countenance of “Bully” Scott, the man whose schooner Phil had taken. Did he know!
Throwing his horse’s reins to Avao, Phil slipped from his saddle and advanced up the steps of the porch. The count received him with but scant courtesy. No attempt was made to hide his displeasure. Phil knew that all eyes were upon him, and felt their hostile stare. It was a situation calculated to disconcert the boldest. Phil steeled himself to hide his great nervousness.
“I come from my captain.” He heard his own voice as if from a long way off. There was an ominous silence all about him. “My message is for your ear alone, Count Rosen,” he said.