think at us, like boy throw stones at bird what fly away
out of cage. Asika do all that, you know, she not quite human, full of
plenty Bonsa devil, from gen'ration to gen'rations, amen! P'raps she
just find out something what make her mad."

"What could she find out after all this time, Jeekie?"

"Oh, don't know. How I know? Jeekie can't guess. Find out you marry Miss
Barbara, p'raps. Very sick that she lose you for this time, p'raps. Kill
herself that she keep near you, p'raps, while she wait till you come
round again, p'raps. Asika can do all these things if she like, Major."

"Stuff and rubbish," answered Alan uneasily, for Jeekie's suggestions
were most uncomfortable, "I believe in none of your West Coast
superstitions."

"Quite right, Major, nor don't I. Only you 'member, Major, what she show
us there in Treasure-place--Mr. Haswell being buried, eh? Miss Barbara
in tent, eh? t'other job what hasn't come off yet, eh? Oh! my golly!
Major, just you look behind you and say you see nothing, please," and
the eyes of Jeekie grew large as Maltese oranges, while with chattering
teeth he pointed over the bulwark of the vessel.

Alan turned and saw.

This was what he saw or seemed to see: The figure of the Asika in her
robes and breastplate of gold, standing upon the air, just beyond the
ship, as though on it she might set no foot. Her waving black hair hung
about her shoulders, but the sharp wind did not seem to stir it nor did
her white dress flutter, and on her beautiful face was stamped a look
of awful rage and agony, the rage of betrayal, the agony of loss. In
her right hand she held a knife, and from a wound in her breast the
red blood ran down her golden corselet. She pointed to Jeekie with the
knife, she opened her arms to Alan as though in unutterable longing,
then slowly raised them upwards towards the fading glory of the sky
above--and was gone.

Jeekie sat down upon the deck, mopping his brow with a red handkerchief,
while Alan, who felt faint, clung to the bulwarks.

"Tell you, Major, that Asika can do all that kind of thing. Never know
where you find her next. 'Spect she come to live with us in England
and just call in now and again when it dark. Tell you, she very awkward
customer, think p'raps you done better stop there and marry her. Well,
she gone now, thank Heaven! seem to drop in sea and hope she stay
there."

"Jeekie," said Alan, recovering himself, "listen to me; this is all
infernal nons