Felisi

“ TIME passes, even in the Islands. Felisi of Luana had reached the mature age of sixteen.
And things had happened—drastic things that have a habit of changing the whole aspect of life. No longer was she called upon by her father to adventure forth from the family roof-tree and wrest from a grudging world the wherewithal to purchase such luxuries as his advanced tastes demanded. Such excursions were no more, so that for Felisi the curtain was rung down on the thrilling drama of other people's business. Henceforth she must attend to her own. ”

“ Their eyes met, and it was clear to any one of perception that in that brief exchange of formalities each recognized the other as a kindred denizen of another world the world of "over there." Felisi had seen such things happen before and, like the perfect chaperon that she was, stole from the presence to help a distraught cook in his efforts to find an uncracked tea cup.
"It is always so," he wailed; "the guests come when least expected." ”

“ Missus Catoni flitted about the place like a white butterfly, giving a touch here and there. A what-not with ten shelves was placed in a corner, and Felisi longed to ask what it was for, until Missus Catoni told her without asking.
"He is very fond of nice boots," she told Felisi; "you will see the most wonderful boots in the world presently."
"Missi Redgravie, him big fellah?" Felisi inquired, and Missus Catoni went off into peals of laughter.
"Oh, I must tell him that!" she cried. "Felisi, you're a gem! Yes, Missi Redgravie is a big fellah in his own way." ”

“ Felisi obeyed instructions in every respect except speed. Sirjohnnie was capering round the pool like a madman when she returned.
"This is nothing short of a discovery," he told her, in a shaking voice. "What is it, Filisi? But, of course, you don't know." He clucked impatiently.
And that was where he was wrong, Felisi told herself, squatting in the sand, triumphant. She knew—the whole of Luana knew—that it was a vine that grew in the bush, and, when flung into a pool, stupefied fish. What more did anyone want to know? The ignorance of these white chiefs was beyond belief. ”

“ Felisi shook her head and looked sympathetic. Amongst her many other accomplishments she was probably the best listener in the world. Her attitude appeared to encourage the white man.
"Such a time!" he breathed. "First chance I've had of thinking about it or having a look at them," he added, rolling the pearls to and fro under his lean brown fingers. "First of all in the cutter. You get to hate the way a man hangs up his hat if you're alone with him long enough. Heavens, how I came to hate that man! ”

“ Some are better at it than others, but most of us act."
"Act," repeated Felisi, with faithful intonation. It was a new word. She was learning many new words on the Rena River.
"Yes, pretend. I used to pretend a lot at one time, Felisi. It was my living." Missus Catoni lit one of her toy cigarettes and leant back in the chair. She was altogether beautiful, Felisi thought, with her white hands clasped behind her head, the folds of a softly tinted kimono falling about her, and the toy cigarette moving up and down between her lips as she talked. ”

“ So great was their fear that Felisi, who had been squatting on the veranda, sewing, looked about her into the moonlit night to see who was there.
"He's coming!" said Missi Redgravie, in an awestruck voice.
"Who—Paul?" whispered Missus Catoni. Her hand was on his sleeve.
"No, Desmond. I can hear him limping—limping!"
"You're dreaming." She had clutched his arm now, and her face was piteously upturned to his. Felisi longed to go and comfort her. "You must be dreaming. He——"
"No, I am not dreaming." Missi Redgravie pronounced this in a firm voice. ”

“ Felisi nodded her head understandingly. The white man might have been talking to the lady with the gold hair behind the bar in Levuka for all the difference he seemed to find in his audience. Felisi took it as an unconscious compliment, which indeed it was.
"Then came what I'd been expecting. But I'd hidden the dinghy oars, and hadn't given him credit for the pluck of swimming a hundred yards through sharks. He did it. It's wonderful what fifty first-grade pearls will do with a man-woman. ”

“ Missus Catoni laughed outright.
"If you're not the quaintest thing, Felisi!" she said. "And you've hit the nail right on the very head. 'Missi Catoni, him no like pretend'!" She laughed again. "You see," she explained, "people who can't pretend themselves, and don't understand it, are often very nice—the nicest sort of people sometimes, I think—but they don't like others who can pretend—especially their wives—to do it for a living. It—oh, dear, oh, dear, what am I talking to you about, Felisi? ”

“ It was the native girl—alone. The fact smote Strode with the force of a physical blow. For a moment he crouched there, stunned into impotence, then, without word or look, plunged into the pool.
As a dive it was a poor performance, Felisi decided, and it soon became evident that Bunny could not swim, either. For this reason it took them an unconscionable time to get him out; and it seemed still longer before his eyes opened. But the most amazing thing to Felisi was the attitude of the lonely lady. ”

“ If I kill him, another man takes his place, and so on for ever. The law never stops."
"Him big fellah, law," mused Felisi.
"I should just say he is," muttered the white man, leaning limply against the dilo trunk and looking out to sea with melancholy eyes. "He's a bad fellah to bunt up against, too, but sometimes—sometimes he can be given the slip. Look here," he added, with sudden eagerness, "Hanson may have gone on, and he may not; I wouldn't trust him a yard. There's only one way out of this thing. You be fishing in a canoe—a canoe with a sail in it, mind you—off the beach to-night. ”

“ She heard his short laugh as she went down the track, and her white teeth closed with a snap like an ivory trap.
There was now plenty of puzzle to put together, and Felisi entered into the game with a new zest. That evening she hid in a lantana bush, a few yards from the tent, and, as well as witnessing a most interesting shadowgraph on the white canvas wall, heard the following—
"Jim, are you better?"
"Who the devil are you?"
"Your brother Charles. You must remember me. Have you forgotten Watlington—the old days?" ”

“ In the taro patch Felisi often puckers her brow over the problems of an eventful life, but in this particular case she can get no further in her deductions than that "the law" is a "big fellah," and the way of the white man beyond belief. ”

“ They were solar topees, that rapidly evolved themselves into men—white men. One was short and plump and pink, the other tall and dark. Felisi had seen them both before, and knew one to be a well-known Levuka solicitor. The other she had seen coming down the gangway of the steamer the previous day. She remembered him partly because of his vague resemblance to Jimmie, and partly because he had brushed her aside when she offered the imitation pink coral. ”

“ Felisi did not so much as flicker an eyelash.
"Sydney and Melbourne are well enough," she conceded, "but when one has been Overthere they are as naught. In Overthere the tea is served in cups of gold, and——"
"Enough!" cried the baffled cook. "Out of my way, infant!" and he hurried up the crazy steps to the veranda.
It was not so much tea that they needed up there.
Out of her boundless knowledge of human nature Felisi knew that, and left them to it. Besides, the cook had called her an infant, and such things could not be allowed to pass. ”

“ Her father's eyes goggled at her over the typewriter.
"Ambergris!" he repeated in an awed undertone.
"Yes. It is one hundred pounds for a piece no bigger than a pigeon's egg in Suva. I have seen."
And the Chief of Luana knew this to be so. For a while his brow was creased by a myriad wrinkles, which signified that he was trying to think; then he waved Felisi from the presence. ”

“ Sirjohnnie, who seemed to have gone into a trance—he had a knack of doing this, Felisi noticed—turned aside and disappeared into the dim interior. Felisi followed Mandri to the kitchen, and squatted outside, as a woman should. The Tongan naturally treated her as non-existent. Nevertheless, a scullery maid has her uses, and he allowed Felisi to cook the saqa, wrapped in banana leaf, Island fashion. ”

“ Then he dropped the spear and sank into the water, hugging his foot and saying things that Felisi did not quite understand, but which she seemed to remember having heard in Levuka.
She went to him, but he brushed her aside and continued his stalking. "I'm going to do it. I'm going to do it," he kept muttering, as he wallowed round the trap. The determination of the man! "It's the reflection," he told himself aloud, "of course, it's the reflection. When you think a fish is there, it isn't. ”

“ Felisi allowed an agonized pause to ensue. Mandri needed a lesson.
"Stove—him all right," she conceded at last. "By an' by plenty more saqa?"
Sirjohnnie shook his head. "Not for me, I'm afraid. By an' by plenty work."
"Work?"
"Yes. I've got so much work to do, and so little time to do it in, that it almost frightens me."
Felisi found herself on the verge of solving a problem that had always puzzled her.
"Plenty work, plenty time?" she suggested.
"Yes, for you lucky people," sighed Sirjohnnie.
"Why no plenty time for-you-lucky-people?" mimicked Felisi. ”

“ Why? Well, such things play a more prominent part in the elucidation of mysteries than might be supposed. Besides, it was necessary to fill the bamboo with drinking water, and the path to the spring led past her new neighbour's abode, and—and is it not permissible to look as attractive as possible, anyway?
Leaving the sewing-machine in a state of suspended animation, Felisi set out. At the croton hedge she paused for breath, but was allowed to proceed without so much as a glance in her direction. ”

“ CHAPTER VI—THE DERELICT Hillary was impatient during the interminable hours that passed ere he saw Gabrielle again. “Don’t worry me, Mango,” he said, as the pretty native girl stood on the verandah and blew kisses from her coral-red lips.
“He go mad soon; man who no get drunk am no gooder at all!” murmured Mango Pango as she ran off to obey the orders of her mistress.
It was the next night when Hillary was to reach the zenith of his dreams and happiness. Gabrielle had promised to meet him at sunset and go off in a canoe for a paddle round the coral reefs off Felisi beach. ”

“ Forty days they had been wed, when it happened that as Sir Guy lay by a window of his tower, looking out upon the landscape, he fell to musing on his life. He thought, "How many men I have slain, how many battles I have fought, how many lands I have taken and destroyed! All for a woman's love; and not one single deed done for my God!" Then he thought, "I will go a pilgrimage for the sake of the Holy Cross." And when Felice knew what he meditated she wept, and with many bitter tears besought him not to leave her. But he sighed and said, "Not yet one single deed for God above!" ”

“ Why, therefore, Félise, in her daily intercourse with Martin, should insist on her waving the banner of the proprieties over their heads, was more than the good lady could understand. Félise was more royalist than the King, more timid than a nunnery, more white-wax and rose-leaves than her favourite author, Monsieur Réné Bazin, had ever dared to portray as human. If Martin had been six foot of thews and muscles, with conquering moustaches, and bold and alluring eyes, she would not have hesitated to protect Félise with her Frenchwoman’s little plump body and unshakable courage. ”

“ It can't be Felicia, you think. But it is Felicia, who comes into the room, beautifully dressed. Why, she must have got up and dressed, tears and all, the instant you left the room! She comes in gallantly, carrying the powder on her nose with effrontery, denying her eyes, which still show the ravages of tears, by the gay smile on her lips; and as dinner progresses, excellent, and with Felicia all as natural and gay as possible, you wonder more than ever what the devil it was all about anyway. ”

“ Then the hot color came into her face, for Felice was very proud, and did not like to be thought inferior to her husband. When they were alone together she related what she had heard. The Golden Archer looked puzzled, for he thought that she loved him too well to care for such trifles. "We are one because we are dear to each other," he cried, and took her in his arms and cherished her.
Next day came the Mistress of the Inn to set the room in order, and as she bustled about she said, "From what kingdom comes your husband, the Prince?"
"My husband is not a prince," said Felice. ”

“ His glance follows hers across the room to where his young wife stands a little outside the giddy circle of waltzers, leaning on the arm of a handsome, dreamy-looking youth, and despite the jealous pang that thrills him at Felise's artful speech, his heart throbs with a great love and pride at her exceeding beauty.
She looks like a snow-maiden, indeed, as her enemy says. She wears costly white lace over her white silk, and her cheeks and brow, her arms and shoulders are white as her dress. Colonel Carlyle's wedding gift, a magnificent set of diamonds, adorns her royally. ”

“ Félix kept this figure in his blouse pocket, carefully wrapped up in a bit of wool, and he spent all his spare moments striving to give it some fresh beauty; for I will tell you a secret: poor little Félix had a great passion for carving, and the one thing for which he longed above all others was to be allowed to apprentice himself in the workshop of Père Videau, who was the master carver of the village, and whose beautiful work on the portals of the great church was the admiration of Félix's heart. ”