OUR NEW SERIAL Pacific Blue

Waimate Daily Advertiser, Volume XXIV, 3 January 1929, Page 8

OUR NEW SERIAL Pacific Blue

A Story of Sunny Seas and Island Adventures.

By

CARLTON DAWE.

Author of “The Knightsbridge Affair,” “The Jjla.re,” “Desperate Love,” etc.

CHAPTER X—(Continued). The suggestion did not appeal to Michael Muleready: indeed, it seemed to take all the strength out of his legs. Stupid he may have been, but he was not so stupid as not to realise all that this threat meant. Without his glib-tongued mentor to guide him, this man of super-intelligence to direct and sustain his faltering steps, he knew that he woud be a lost sheep in more senses than one. “I’ll go wid ya, Mart/’ he said hastily.

“An’ what’s more son,” continued Martin B. in his most impressive

manner, “there’s only one eap’n in command o' this ship, an’ that’s me, an’ don’t you forget it. For the rest” —here he touched the money

in his pocket—- “ There ain’t no need to cuss or holler While you can raise a single dollar.”

So the two men, casting themselves once more upon the waters, shot out of the lagoon, through the reef, and soon rounded the suit of land to the westward. Whether or not the waters would return them again after many days remains to be seen. Captain Harworth had solemnly warned them both of the consequences jf such an act. Tapu didn't care for strangers, especially those who came from the pearling grounds of the north. Trenton was invited to stay to dinner, nor would Captain Harworth hear of a refusal. After all, they were white men, and as such must stand together in the land of the black. And of a truth the mate did not need much persuading. As he had grown attached to Calpin despite his idiosyncrasies, discovering merit where others found nothing but a cause for reproach, so was he drawn in singular fashion towards the man who had voluntarily chosen this strange life of solitude. If before he had wondered why it had been chosen, he positively marvelled now that he had seen the daughter. What did the old man mean by living here while she was growing up? He must have known what she was like, and that she would need him at the most fateful period of her life; yet he had chosen an existence which not alone disclosed a lack of parental affection, but which must have been melancholy beyond all thinking. During the meal no mention was made of the deportees, a tacit admission that they were best forgotten. Under the genial influence of food and stout liquor, both the old salts expanded. Calpin grew reminiscent, and then rather stupid, receiving sharp reprimands in consequence, all of which he accepted with unfailing good humour. Even Trenton let much of his accustomed reserve slip from him, and indulged in more than one bout at friendly repartee. And Doris was radiant. I'requently Jim Trenton let his eyes linger on her, his thoughts concentrate on her. A natural girl, he told himself, he who had long distrusted ■ all women. And then would steal into that grim, hard face the old grim look. What right had he to think of her in that way? But for all this admonishing of self he continued both to think and to look, and, looking, found the sight pleasant. As before they adjourned to the verandah for coffee, and presently Fred Calpin, lounging back in a long cane chair, began to snore complacently. With a smile Doris rose and deftly placed a cushion under his head. The two men smiled. “ Poor old dear," she said, “he may as well be comfortable.” Her father chuckled. Old Fred with one of her silken cushions under his weather-beaten skull! But it was the woman touch, and doubtless both men appreciated it in their several ways.

Then Harworth, rather adroitly, it must be admitted, led up to the war. He wanted to know exactly what part this man had played in it. Though he may not have realised it, he had rather taken to this stranger. Calpin had spoken well of him, Doris had told him something. He was not an exacting man. One who had led his life would not expect perfection in anything that was human; yet he caught himself wishing -that there was nothing in this man's past which could place him beyond the pale. But Trenton was a dirticu " person to set talking about himself. \Lt his military career being blur.. y approached by Captain Harworth. who cited Doris as his authority, he frankly admitted that he had served overseas, that he had risen to the rank of colonel. and that it was on purely private grounds that he had made a secret of the matter. Possibly there was no reason why he should, though probably they would understand. “Let us forget al! that part,” said the old man. “I know you fellows who served are chary of talk, but I'd like to hear a bit first-hand. You see. Trenton. I'm an Englishman first and last. Sentiment, I suppose, but there it is. I thought it was all knocked out of me; but when that war came along, and the old country was in danger—well, the blood in me was English b.ooi. and that’s the explanation. " Then, sitting there in the entrancing stillness of the night, a wonderful moon shedding a broad pathway of silver upon the water. Trenton told them of what men had done, and the telling of it was like a glorious epic. No mention of himself in it. He was the narrator, the poet, the singer of other

men’s great deeds. Silently the old man smoked on. Doris, tears streaming down her face, could have listened to him for ever. In that solemn hour a strange intimacy was bred between these three. They drew together in a way none of them understood nor made the least attempt to understand. One doesn’t understand such things; one just knows that they exist.

When Jim Trenton at last rose to go the old man caught his hand, held it firmly, and said, “We ought to see mere of each other. I’m obliged to

, This man’s simple relation of great deeds had stirred the old sailor to his profoundest depths, and made his country live again for him in a way he had thought she never could. Of a sudden he seemed no longer lonely, no longer lost in the wide wastes of the Pacific.

Once more Doris walked down to the beach with Trenton, a flimsy wrap of silver gauze flung over her shoulders. She wanted to tell him how greatly bis conversation had interested her, but at every attempt faltered. Instead she made some commonplace remark about the beauty of the night, which annoyed her intensely. Would he think her a fool, or merely one of those light-headed, silly girls who really mean no harm, but who are of no real good to themselves or anyone else. And somehow she didn’t want him to think of her like that. Once it would not have mattered what the mate of the Doris thought, but now the whole situation had undergone a remarkable change. Of a sudden he had grown big, the biggest man she had ever known. And the moon was shining brightly on the water, and the palms were sighing softly on the beach, and her own heart was singing strangely to the night. He, too, was curiously reticent, as though he had run dry of words. Now and again he courageously stole a glance at her. Once, looking up at him, the moon filled her eyes with a most amazing brilliance. Pacific blue, he had called them, likening them to the colour of the ocean; now he thought of them as wells of light, of mysterious fires smouldering in secret places; of, in fact, anything but what they were. If they told him a secret he did not see it, and had he seen it he would have been afraid. "Father likes you,” she said ly“I’m glad.” “So am I.” “And she was gone from him, gone like a flash of white light. Her father met her on the steps of the verandah. “Are you cold?” he asked kindly. “Oh, no!”

Cold! And yet she clung to him as if he were both warmth and shelter. "We ought to be able to do something for him, Doris. A man like that. Why didn’t that old fool”—nodding towards the recumbent Calpin—"tell

“You forget, he didn’t know. No one would have known but for that chance meeting with Mr Haddington at Suva.” “Who's Mr Haddington?” he asked suddenly, almost suspiciously. “I think he has something to do with one of the shipping agencies.” Captain Harworth sat long into the night and thought. Sava brought him more whisky, which he harshly told her to take away. She came closely and laid her hand lightly on his shoulder. Roughly he shook it off. Her dark eyes flashed ominously through the gloom. “You no like me now she come?” “S’sh,” he muttered, “and don't be a fool.” "Me been fool too long, yes?” “Try and be a sensible girl.” “Oh, me sensible girl all right. Now drink whisky; keep out cold.” It is possible that if Sava had not been so attentive her master might have drunk less whisky, but, believing such to be his chief consolation, she had it ever at his elbow. Besides, in this respect all white men were alike. They couldn't sit down to eat, smoke or talk, without the companionship of the bottle. Possibly there was a method in this unremitting attention of hers; possibly not. Always a man full of strange whims, he had grown even more uncertain, and in many ways more exacting, since the arrival of his daughter. Two Eves in Paradise would have destroyed Adam long before his time. But what if a third had come ? “No, though I have been afraid of myself ever since that first day you came aboard at Suva. I ought to have cleared out then—-I meant to —and hadn’t the pluck. I tried to cheat myself by saying that I was in duty bound to stick by the schooner. Do you understand, a little ? I knew it was madness; probably I was always a bit mad. I must have been or I wouldn’t have thought that nothing mattered, when everything matters. Am I forgiven?” “Yes,” she answered in a low tone.

“It’s more than I deserve, and I’m ever so grateful. And please don’t think that I shall embarrass you in any way. I may be down, but I’m not down enough for that. I’ll clear out at the grst opportunity.” Slowly they continued the descent without speaking until the house once more came in sight. Then lightly she laid her hand on his arm. “Why should you go?" she asked. “It's not my wish.” “Nor mine.” “Doris! ” She was smiling now. ’’’Aren't vie rather foolish ? ” (To be continued.)