ravity, refused to sell. He was
pressed; he persisted. It was explained we only wanted one: no matter,
two were necessary for the healing of the sick. He was rallied, he was
reasoned with: in vain. He sat there, serious and still, and refused.
All this was only a preliminary skirmish; hitherto no sum of money had
been mentioned; but now the captain brought his great guns to bear. He
named a pound, then two, then three. Out of the maniap's one person
after another came to join the group, some with mere excitement, others
with consternation in their faces. The pretty girl crept to my side; it
was then that--surely with the most artless flattery--she informed me of
my likeness to her father. Tamaiti the infidel sat with hanging head and
every mark of dejection. Terutak' streamed with sweat, his eye was
glazed, his face wore a painful rictus, his chest heaved like that of
one spent with running. The man must have been by nature covetous; and I
doubt if ever I saw moral agony more tragically displayed. His wife by
his side passionately encouraged his resistance.

And now came the charge of the old guard. The captain, making a skip,
named the surprising figure of five pounds. At the word the maniap's
were emptied. The king's sister flung down her cards and came to the
front to listen, a cloud on her brow. The pretty girl beat her breast
and cried with wearisome iteration that if the box were hers I should
have it. Terutak's wife was beside herself with pious fear, her face
discomposed, her voice (which scarce ceased from warning and
encouragement) shrill as a whistle. Even Terutak' lost that image-like
immobility which he had hitherto maintained. He rocked on his mat, threw
up his closed knees alternately, and struck himself on the breast after
the manner of dancers. But he came gold out of the furnace; and with
what voice was left him continued to reject the bribe.

And now came a timely interjection. "Money will not heal the sick,"
observed the king's sister sententiously; and as soon as I heard the
remark translated my eyes were unsealed, and I began to blush for my
employment. Here was a sick child, and I sought, in the view of its
parents, to remove the medicine-box. Here was the priest of a religion,
and I (a heathen millionaire) was corrupting him to sacrilege. Here was
a greedy man, torn in twain betwixt greed and conscience; and I sat by
and relished, and lustfully renewed his torments. _Ave, Caesar_!
Smothered in a