"Oh, Professor!"

Auckland Star, Volume LIX, Issue 77, 31 March 1928, Page 14 (Supplement)

"Oh, Professor!"

By Tom Harris

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS PROFESSOR JUDDERS, who occupies a chair at Auckland University College, accepts an invitation from a party of scientific Americans to join them on an expedition to the Pacific Islands, and embarks on the schooner at Auckland. He finds that the passengers on the ship are a hard-drinking lot, and he is disturbed by what Moling, an Australian, who is one of the crew, tells him about the captain. Sickness breaks out on board, and Noling and Newton, the doctor, have a fight with fists, which Noling wins. The Professor falls ill, and is visited by Noling in bis cabin. Noling leaves him with a remark about navigating the ship. The following day Noling insists that, for his own safety, the Professor shall leave "the death ship." Noling forces him to take the motor dinghy and set off by himself for some islands to the north. The Professor reaches an island, and is helped ashore by natives. He is spoken to in Maori by a beautiful girl named Miromiro, who takes him under her protection, and he is told that the island is Rawhiti, which he remembers was charted by early navigators but not found again The island is so surrounded by rocks that leaving and arriving are well - nigh impossible, and the people live cut off from tho world. The Professor finds that Miromiro is the daughter of a castaway called O'Hara, who died on bein£ thrown up on the island. The Professor sets up his portable wireless set and, to the amazement of the natives, catches music from the outside world, •which greatly enhances his prestige. He learns by this means that the schooner which he lpft Is regarded as lost. Five years pass, and a schooner appears off the island. The Professor reaches her, and is amazed to find Noling in charge. The two discuss what shall be done with valuable pearls that Miromiro gave to the Professor.

CHAPTER X. Although faced with a momentous decision, and again hemmed in by perplexing circumstances, the Professor lounged about the deck of the yacht, through the long day,. absorbed in moody reflection.

Prior to the voyage of the Bronzewing he had relied on Ella's judgment in every important event in life. True, he had a certain strength of character, he clung tenaciously to truth and honour, his conscience was an active dictator to his actions; but his judgment of men, his discernment of their motives, indeed his knowledge of the world outside the narrow scholastic groove in which h6 had moved was almost a negligible quantity. It was not the decision that worried him, that he felt was a foregone conclusion, he had no possible hope of successfully opposing Noli rig's wishes but his helplessness oppressed him; fame was within his grasp, a happy return to his old life, he looked forward to a revered and respected old age, and now he was beset by circumstances that obscured all his future, and filled him with vague doubts He knew he was unduly influenced by Noling, he realised already that he would do as he desired. He did not doubt the truth of the Australian's story of the tragedy of the Bronzewing, he waa annoyed because it complicated his own plans. He did not wish to divulge the part played by Noling, the sale of the vessel, and his own abandonment in mid-ocean, that would place him in an unpleasant position. He even doubted if his story would be credited; besides lie owed something to the Australian, his life perhaps. Could he fabricate an entirely new story? He disliked the thought. He had no confidence in his ability to sustain anything fictitious. Ella would certainly detect the least deception; it would mean discredit and disgrace. Then was his dearest wish, the dream that had cheered his thoughts through five years of isolation, doomed to disappointment T In this gloomy mood his thoughts reverted to the pearls. Here again he could not doubt Noling's assertion that the pearls were stolen property, and that they would be confiscated by the authorities if their Whereabouts were discovered. He was not wholly in accord with Noling's plan to dispose of them; it was not thoroughly straight. Then the thought of Miromiro despofled of her inheritance made him ■ncertain. Was it not visiting the sins of the fatlfcr on the unoffending child? The gems would mean so much to her, her future was at stake, and reluctance to publicly confess possession of them grew upon him as his sympathy for Miromiro swayed his conscience.

The Professor did not deny to himself that though he had been harshly smitten by chance, fate had also been kind, even generous, and he was not ungratefuL Though he resented being dominated by Noling's personality, he could not but feel that he waa a source of strength, diffusing a sense of power and confidence that gave the future a glamour of interest and romance. But into what wild adventures would the irresponsible Australian lead him ? What foolish and reckless chances would he take in selling Miromiro's pearls? The Professor was not comforted by the thought; he went to the cabin allotted him, and, throwing himself on the bunk, wrestled with his difficulties, till kindly sleep banished them from his mind.

It was late in the afternoon when the Professor awoke, refreshed and hopeful, the gloomy mood dispelled, his mind alert and ready to grapple with the problem of the future. Dusk was gathering as he went on deck, and he saw the red gleam of the port light on the sea. A meal was spread in the saloon. Noling hailed him in a hearty tone, and he went below with a pleasurable sensation of returning to the refinements of civilisation. During the meal, which the Professor thought excellent in every detail, he pleasantly surprised Noling with a vein of mild jocularity. The Professor was in spirits. He had, in measure, abandoned care; the future was veiled in uncertainty; he had decided that he was unable to control it, but it promised to be interesting; let it unfold. After dinner he had coffee, smoked a mild "cigar, and thought well of the world.

"Well, Professor," said Noling with a smile, "the world lies before you."

He sat with his back leaning on the crimson upholstery, in the corner of the saloon, one leg thrown carelessly on the seat, his arms clasped behind his head, luxuriantly blowing a cloud of blue tobacco smoke round the bright bowl of the gently swaying cabin lamp. The islander at the wheel was crooning a native melody that just reached their ears through the lisping of the sea. The Professor looked at Noling and puffed leisurely at his cigar without any answering remark. A sense of freedom pervaded his mind, unreal perhaps, but pleasant. He was unaccountably happy. He knew his future movements would be determined by Noling; etfll, the realisation that he had left Rawhiti, that he was actually going somewhere, charged the atmosphere with pleasing possibilities. Ho would have to entrust th® pearls to Noling and fa" in with hi* plar;; he had already virtually sur-

rendered, but, like a rebellious child, he wanted one precocious kick at the conditions. "Noling," he said, "I want to be taken straight back to Auckland." To his surprise, Noling made no show of protest or dissent. "I have considered that course, Professor, because I thought it a likely request." "Will you do it?" interposed the Professor.

"On certain conditions, I will, Professor." "Ah!" said the Professor in a deprecating tone. "Conditions!" "Yes, that you tell the story that I shall dictate to you, of your escape from the Bronzewing." "What is it?" "Simple and easy. The ship was stricken with the sleeping sickness, drifting, helpless. One evening at nightfall she drifted near an island, you put off in the dinghy for assistance, the current swept you past the island, and in the darkness you were unable to regain the. schooner." "That's almost the truth," said the Professor, with a suggestion of sarcasm.

"Promise to say no more or less than that of your parting with the Bronzewing, Professor, and we'll shape a course for Auckland to-nigh£. I'm sorry I was compelled to treat you roughly on that occasion, I was rather keyed up, you remember. Forgive me, and let me make amends by taking you to your home port."

The Professor did not pause to think, or give his conscience time to become operative. Noling had appealed to the better part of his nature, and he gave his promise to the compact immediately. Noling extended his hand and the Professor shook it readily.

The Australian's plans were simple. They would proceed to Auckland, calling at Rarotonga on the way to pick up petrol and refill the water tanks. At Auckland he would lay the yacht up and take passage to Frisco, perhaps go on to New York, sell the pearls to the best advantage and return.

"You must trust me with the pearls, Professor. I think you have good security; one Blip of the tongue, you know, and the game would be lost."

The Professor was secretly glad to get rid of the responsibility of the pearls; the suggestion that they were tainted made them distasteful to think about, and ho was inwardly grateful to Noling for undertaking to dispose of them; yet he was sensible of the risk Noling would run.

"Will there not be a danger of your being recognised in Auckland?"

"Very little," replied Noling. "We were in port only twelve hours and I did not go ashore. I was dog tired and slept nearly the whole time. The boys I have on tjje yacht can be trusted. I've treated them well, they know very little, and know when they are well off. You will have the Bronzewing's dinghy as proof of your story, and you must get the yarn off pat. We'll have plenty of time to rehearse it; it's about twentyfive days' sail to Auckland."

They talked long into the night, the Professor's face aglow in the light of the cabin lamp as he spoke of his discovery of Rawhiti, of Miromiro, of his projected lectures, and the book he intended writing. Noling dismissed Rawhiti and the natives with the remark: "There are thousands of islands in the Pacific, Professor, all of them overrun with Kanakas." But he was interested in the Professor's description of Miromiro, and asked many questions about her, which the Professor answered with great animation.

Soon after the Professor wned in he felt the throb of the engine and the tremor of the yacht's speed as she started on the long run to Auckland. During the days that followed he was worried over his compact with Noling; his decision had been hurried; without Ella's restraining hand he was a creature of impulse, but he determined to carry out the agreement, and as he got the fabricated story off by heart his conscience grew easier. He devoted himself to writing up lectures on the lost island and its people, keeping steadily to the task till Noling's stock of stationery was exhausted. This left him at a dead end, and time began to drag. Noling was but a fitful conversationalist; there were occasions when he would spin yarns and revel in sea lore: that was when the mellow light of the big cabin lamp glowed in the saloon, and the Professor sat enchanted while the Australian nonchalantly stirred his soul with tragedy and romance. But the long days were tedious to the Professor; he loved the little ship—to him she was a living, breathing thing—but he could not remain for hours under the rhythmic spell of her swaying speed as Noling did. He felt the beauty and music of it aV, he understood the Aussie's content ant. silent rapture, but his own heart was astir with the prospect of again seeing Peggy and Ella and all his old friends. A thousand times he pictured Peggy, his fairy child, as he had last seen her, standing on the bow of the launch, as it faded in the distance, when the ill-fated Bronzewing sailed out of Auckland harbour. A fever of impatience possessed him—he strove to subdue it by physical exercise; he scrubbed the deck of the yacht, and polished her brasswork till his arms ached and she was as spotless as a polished saint. He looked forward to landing at Rarotonga, but on the day they arrived he was laid up with a bilious attack, and could not leave his cabin to go on shore. When at sea again the demon of unrest still devoured him. He was impatiently stamping about the deck one morning when Noling called him.

"You tell me you have four lectures completed, Professor? I'd like to hear you deliver them; stand on the cabin top and begin."

The Professor thought it a good idea, but was self-conscious and reluctant to display his powers of oratory. However he went to his cabin, got his manuscript, and began to quote passages to Noling as he stood at the wheel.

"Professor, I know you won't be offended when I tell you bluntly, that your delivery is not what it should be. If the world is to, ring with four fame f nd I believe it will, Professor, you must r ractise the art of public speaking. Now jump on the cabin top and begin." Thus encouraged, the Professor mounted the low roof of the saloon, and spoke the introductory paragraph of his first lecture.

"Never do, Professor," said Noling. "All right for the lecture room, but you will have to speak to thousands. You murt open the throttle Professor, put your chest against it and let it go, like

this: Ladies and Genthmen, I stand before you to-night, not merely as a learned professor, hit as the discoverer of the lost island of Rawhiti. For more than a century, this historic island, the missing link in the Polynesian migration, lay shrouded in silence, no trace of it could be found, it had apparently 'gone down to the ongueless silence of the dreamless dust." It remained for a distressed traveller striving to obtain succour for his stricken friends. (You get that Professor?) to achieve the honour, the distinction, of again putting Rawhiti on the map."

The Professor listened to the ringing tones of Noling's voice with admiration.

"Excellent Noling: a splendid delivery. I like the "tongueless silence" phrase. I'll use that if you don't mind. But your style, if you will let me say so, is somewhat egotistical. I could not speak in that strain; it savours of the political candidate."

"Yes, Professor, very time. Bat you get the idea, don't you? Speak our, you know; reach the deaf old fellow at the end of the hall. You have the goods, Professor, language, expert knowledge, everything, but you don't get it off your chest. Have another go."

The Professor rose to the occasion and delivered the first two pages of his lecture with surprising vehemence. Half an hour of this vocal exercise, put him in a perspiration and made him a little hoarse, but he thoroughly enjoyed it. "Now, Professor, you know if you spoke without the manuscript, or notes, your address would be twice as effective, why not learn the lectures right through and deliver them without book or note?" The Professor approved and throughout the remainder of the run to Auckland, his time was pleasantly and fully occupied. For over an hour each morning and afternoon he stood on the cabin top and broadcast Polynesian history to the universe, with an enthusiasm and gusto that increased daily. The rest of the day he devoted to memorising. Noling and the boys listened with neverfailing interest; on occasions the Professor, to show his versatility, would address the boys in their native tongue. So the time passed pleasantly enough, the Professor's delivery improved bv leaps and bounds, and he had thoroughly learned a series of four lectures, when one morning Noling announced that he expected to make his landfall before sunset. By mid-day the North Cape loomed up and the yacht crept in to do her coasting down to Auckland harbour. The Professor was excited and happy. It seemed but yesterday that he had sailed from these shores in the ill-fated Bronzewing, now he was reported dead, forgotten perhaps, except by Peggy and Ella and a few friends. How would he approach them —break the news that he was still in the land of the living ? He was not very presentable, his own clothes were worn out; he had put his knees through his trousers when scrambling on to the keel of the dinghy, Noling's clothes were too long in the arms and legs. He had shortened them, but he was conscious of cutting an odd figure in them. A blue serge coat, too broad across the back, white duck trousers with sawn-off legs that gave them a puckered, bulgy cut, a silk 6hirt several sizes too large, white canvas shoes, a bald head and a straggly beard; that was Professor Judders, returning to civilisation after five years' exile. He was dissatisfied with his appearance, he felt that Ella would think it commonplace, tawdry, lacking distinction. Yes, Ella certainly would look askance at his clothes. He confided his fears to Noling. "Why not scout round a bit before discovering yourself, Professor? HI go on shore and send off some ready-made clothes. But I reckon that little giri of yours won't care if you land in a frock coat or pyjamas, will she?"

"No, Noling, Peggy will be glad to see me," replied the Professor with a smile. "But Mrs. Professor Judders, Noling, is rather severe on anything—er—unbecoming."

"Oh, the Grand Duchess? Yes, her sheik must return all perfumed and shampooed. The beard will please her, Professor, I'll trim it. By Jove, I don't think they'll know you, you're fatter and browner and a little balder, I think, Professor."

The Professor smiled ruefully, time had certainly taken toll of his scanty locks. He sighed when he thought of the effect on Ella. Sh« was so robust, so- well preserved, so physically efficient; yes, his baldness would be a shock to Ella. This thought oppressed him during the three days they were coasting down to Auckland. However, Noling's undertanding sympathy and optimism, together with a word or two of judicious flattery and a spice of the Professor's own Socratean philosophy, somewhat restored his confidence and nerved him for the ordeal. Noling carefully noted down all his requirements, his size in hats, collars, shirts, took measurements of his chest, his limbs, his height, and drew a word picture of him arrayed in a dapper suit, top hat, gloves, cane and stylish footwear, that cheered him wonderfully.

Their plans were carefully throught out. The possession of the pearls was to be kept secret; Noling was to leave the yacht in the Waitemata, sail for 'Frisco by the first steamer, realise on the pearls, return and sail again for Rawhiti with the Professor.

Noling had no lack of ready money, nearly £500; £200 he would leave with the Professor, for the requirements of his yacht and the boys. He expected to return within three months. Meantime the Professor would have ample time to set the world agog with his lectures on the lost island of Rawhiti.

They picked up Tiri light and as they sailed into the channel they were passed by the mail steamer Aorangi, ablaze with electric light and crowded with life. As the Professor watched her move past, his heart throbbed with a strange excitement. He had been through many adventures, now he was returning from the dead. He could not repress a prayer of gratitude for his deliverance from the dangers of the past five years. As they rounded North Head and passed over to the anchorge in the lower harbour to await the health officer the electric lights of the city streamed across the water, brilliant and dazzling. The Aorangi lay in mid-stream with launches flitting about her in the glare of her lights. Over two hours elapsed before the health officer came aboard the yacht and pronounced her a clean ship. The Professor did not divulge his identity, he felt he was not dressed for the part. It was nearly midnight, and the doctor was not in a mood for conversation anyhow, but they learned that the Aorangi was sailing for Frisco on the following' day at noon, and Noling decided to book his passage the first thing, in the morning. He packed his kit at once, had a reassuring talk with the Professor, who was a little depressed by Noling's early departure, snatched a few hours sleep, and just after daybreak next morning moved the yacht up to the anchorage off Stanley Buy, and prepared to go on shore. His last act was to give the Professor's rather straggly beard a final trim. Perhaps his years of isolation had made him

a little emotional, but his parting with tha Australian affected the Professor considerably. "Noling," he said grasping his hand, "there were times when I doubted you. I was wrong. But for you I would not be here safe and sound now. I owe you much, I am grateful, Noling. God blees you, old fellow. I wish you luck." Noling squeezed bis hand, placed his hand on the Professor's shoulder, held him at arms' length and laughed. That was all, but the friendliness of the laugh and the gesture were eloquent to the Professor.

The Aorangi sailed shortly after noon. The Professor did not go on shore to see Noling depart, he knew he would be an object of curiosity: he waited patiently all day for the parcel of clothes Noling was to send off to the yacht. They did not arrive. Had Noling forgotten all about them, and sailed without giving the order? As the afternoon wore on the Professor's impatience increased. He longed to go on shore to see Peggy and Ella. At about seven in tbe evening he could restrain himself no longer. Noling had evidently forgotten the clothes, he would send one of the boys to make inquiries in the morning, but he decided to go on shore that night, see his old home and perhaps catch a glimpse of his loved ones without being seen or recognised himself. (To be continued Saturday next.)