They watched the steamer eagerly; the hull was enlarging; it was approaching rapidly; it was heading straight for the island. The signal had apparently been seen. But there was still no sign of the missionary.

When the vessel was about half-a-mile from the sh.o.r.e its motion ceased.

"They are afraid to come closer because of the rocks," said Mary.

"Look, they're lowering a boat."

But at this moment their attention was withdrawn from the steamer by startling sounds from below--loud, fierce shouts mingled with the report of fire-arms.

"Oh! I'm afraid they've caught him," exclaimed Elizabeth, clasping her hands in distress.

They ran along the edge of the precipice to a spot where they had a better view of the open ground from the cove to the site of their huts.

The din was increasing in volume and fury, but as yet nothing could be seen. Suddenly, from beyond the jutting edge of a crag, they saw the missionary running with all his might, not towards them, but towards the sea. The girls wondered at this, for he could not have caught sight of the steamer, owing to the trees. It dawned on them afterwards that the chivalrous old man, in his care for them, was leading the pursuers away from their hiding-place.

Quivering with apprehension they watched the runner. Presently, less than a hundred yards behind him, a horde of savages burst into view, uttering frantic yells, as they leapt after their expected victim. For some moments he disappeared from the view of the anxious spectators on the precipice, hidden by the intervening trees. Then he emerged again; he was still running at a speed amazing in a man of his years. What would be the end of the race? The pursuers were gaining on him; they were hard at his heels: it seemed impossible that he should not be overtaken.

He was now upon the beach. A few yards of sand separated him from the sea. He stumbled, recovered himself, dashed on again, and to the girls' horror plunged into the water. The terrifying image of hungry sharks rose in their minds. Several of the pursuers halted and levelled their guns at the swimmer, others plunged in after him, evidently determined not to be baulked of their prey.

All this time the attention of the girls had been divided between this scene on the sh.o.r.e and the steamer's boat, which was rapidly approaching. They could not tell whether it had been seen either by the pursuers or the fugitive. They watched in breathless excitement.

The boat was drawing nearer to the swimmer, but the foremost of the savages was nearer still. Suddenly there was a flash and a puff of smoke from the boat, followed by a report. The brown men stopped: there was a moment's hesitation, then they were seen striking out vigorously for the sh.o.r.e.

"Saved! Saved!" cried Tommy, dancing for joy. "Oh, let's go and meet them, Bess."

"Better wait, dear," said Elizabeth, whose lips were quivering. "Let them drive the savages away first."

In tense excitement they watched the missionary lifted into the boat.

It was too far distant as yet for them to distinguish its occupants.

As soon as the missionary was aboard the sailors dipped their oars again and pulled l.u.s.tily for the sh.o.r.e. The girls strained their eyes.

The newcomers might be Dutch, French, English, or American; they were white men; the long captivity was ended.

The boat had almost reached the beach. Suddenly Tommy gave a scream, and clutched at Mary's arm.

"It's Uncle Ben! It's Uncle Ben!" she cried.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE HOME-COMING

Who can describe the happiness of friends long parted when they meet again! As there is a grief too deep for tears, so there is a joy too intense for words to express. Let the reader picture to herself the meeting of uncle and nieces, the sober satisfaction of Mr. Purvis, the ecstasy of little Dan Whiddon, the jolly faces of Long Jimmy, Sunny Pat and the rest.

Uncle Ben's story was a simple and natural one. He had no sooner launched the raft with all his crew on board, than the _Elizabeth_ went down with a gurgle and was seen no more. The raft drifted about for days at the mercy of every current, until it was sighted by a merchant brig. The castaways were picked up, but in spite of Captain Barton's entreaties the skipper would not alter his course to search for the girls. He was bound for San Francisco with a perishable cargo, and declared that he could not waste time and money scouring the South Pacific for any females, even were they princesses or queens.

At San Francisco Captain Barton chartered a steamer. He never spoke of the pang this must have cost him. Those who knew the old man guessed how bitterly he felt the necessity, at the close of his career, of thus tacitly admitting the superiority of steam over sails.

The steamer had made for Maku's island, Captain Barton hoping to enlist the services of Mr. Corke and the people in the search for his nieces.

Learning on his arrival that Maku had disappeared, and that the missionary had been carried away to the sacred island, he at once started to rescue his friend. He was distressed at the interruption of his primary quest, but when Mr. Corke's whereabouts was a certainty, while his nieces' very existence was doubtful, he felt that the nearer duty must be accomplished first. His delight at being able to rescue the girls, his friend, and the old chief at the same time may be imagined.

His action on the island was summary. On learning the state of affairs, he sent the steamer along the sh.o.r.e to the spot where the native canoes were beached, drove off the infuriated natives with a warning shot from his bra.s.s gun, and had the canoes towed out to sea.

He said he did not hold with revolutions, and meant to reinstate Maku in his old chiefdom. Since those of his disaffected subjects who had come to the island were the mystery men and their princ.i.p.al supporters, he decided to leave them there with their new chief, having learnt that they would have no difficulty in finding sustenance. He would carry back Maku and Fangati with the missionary to their island, and to ensure that they should not be molested by the revolutionaries he determined to take the canoes in tow, and so leave them without the means of crossing the sea.

The girls left the scene of their adventures without regret. Looking back upon their life there, they acknowledged that it had been on the whole happy, and their terrors seemed trifling now that they were free from them. Tommy did not fail to seek for her parrot, which she found disconsolate in the boat, and which, she declared, spoke to her for the first and last time in its life when she took it up and perched it on her shoulder. She was very reluctant to part with Fangati, and tried to persuade her uncle to take her back to England with them; but the old man a.s.sured her that the girl was happier in her own land, and put an end to the subsequent discussion with one of his crusted aphorisms.

There is a little town in Surrey which, though not far from London, preserves a good deal of the charm of the country. Its roads are shaded with unlopped trees; its houses lie amid pleasant gardens; and being away from the main routes it is not devastated by motor cars.

In the front garden of one of the houses rises a tall white mast, complete with yards and halyards. Over the entrance stands the model of a full-rigged barque. In the hall a white parrot spends a placid but noisy existence. These emblems of the nautical life are confined to the front of the house; at the back there is a tennis lawn, a well-kept flower garden, with gla.s.s-houses, and an orchard.

Captain Barton was advised to take this house by his lawyer, who wished to let it for a client. A tramp through Deptford and Rotherhithe soon convinced him that, however well suited those riverside suburbs may have been to seafaring men in the days of Queen Bess, they did not offer much attraction nowadays to a retired mariner with three nieces.

And having a.s.sured himself that the country town in question had an excellent high school for girls, with a practising school attached, he followed his lawyer's advice--for once in a way, as he said.

Elizabeth keeps house for him, spending a good deal of time in the garden. She is a.s.sisted there by Dan Whiddon, who does not grow very fast, although the Captain makes him climb the mast once a day for the sake of stretching his limbs. Mary is learning how to teach, and Tommy is in the fifth form at school, champion in tennis, and a dashing forward in the hockey team. Her first reports made her uncle screw up his mouth, and rub his bald pate, and ask Elizabeth what on earth was to be done with a minx like that. "Has good abilities, but lacks application," he quoted. "Much too talkative. Has lost too many conduct marks this term." Elizabeth begged him to be patient, a.s.suring him that Tommy would turn out quite well in time. And as the same mistresses who penned the above remarks are all wonderfully fond of Tommy, and she is the most popular girl in the school, it is evident that she has at least one most enviable quality, the power of winning friends.

A visitor often comes to the house, at whose appearance Captain Barton retires to his den and grumps and growls over his beloved pipe. The young electrical engineer whom the girls had met in Valparaiso will certainly get on in the world, if dogged persistence has its reward.

Though they had then been unable to give him any address, and had held no communication with him since, they had not been settled more than a week before he called. "The impudence of the fellow!" said Captain Barton inwardly, when Elizabeth introduced the visitor. Through the wreaths of smoke from his pipe the worthy Captain sees visions of Elizabeth keeping house for some one else, and the poor man, I fear it must be confessed, is jealous. Tommy looks on with a humorous twinkle in her eye.

"Poor old Nunky!" she thinks. "He's wondering what in the world he'll do when Bess is married, and Mary's away teaching, and he's left to the tender mercies of _Me_!"

But I have watched many girls in my time, and I shouldn't be at all surprised if Tommy--she will have her hair up and be Miss Katherine Westmacott then--develops into a very capable housekeeper. She will certainly be what an old lady friend of mine calls "a bit of sunshine in the home."

_Richard Clay & Sons, Ltd., London and Bungay._

BOOKS FOR GIRLS

PUBLISHED BY

HENRY FROWDE AND HODDER & STOUGHTON

THE RED BOOK FOR GIRLS

EDITED BY

Mrs. HERBERT STRANG

A miscellany for girls, containing a large number of complete original stories by popular writers; extracts from great authors; articles and poems. Ill.u.s.trated with 12 plates in colour by HUGH THOMSON, W. R. S.

STOTT, N. M. PRICE, CHARLES PEARS, and other artists, and numerous black and white drawings. 288 pages. Crown 4to, cloth, 3/6; picture boards, cloth back, 2/6; also in full gilt, 5/-.

SOME OF THE CONTENTS