rns to his island home with his bride!"

"That's capital," said Jack, as he stepped up to the savage and gave him
a hearty shake of the hand. "I wish you joy, my lad;--and you too,
Avatea."

As Jack spoke, Avatea's lover took him by the hand and led him to the
spot where Tararo and the missionary stood, surrounded by most of the
chief men of the tribe. The girl herself followed, and stood on his left
hand while her lover stood on his right, and, commanding silence, made
the following speech, which was translated by the missionary:--

"Young friend, you have seen few years, but your head is old. Your heart
also is large and very brave. I and Avatea are your debtors, and we
wish, in the midst of this assembly, to acknowledge our debt, and to say
that it is one which we can never repay. You have risked your life for
one who was known to you only for a few days. But she was a woman in
distress, and that was enough to secure to her the aid of a Christian
man. We, who live in these islands of the sea, know that the true
Christians always act thus. Their religion is one of love and kindness.
We thank God that so many Christians have been sent here--we hope many
more will come. Remember that I and Avatea will think of you and pray
for you and your brave comrades when you are far away."

To this kind speech Jack returned a short sailor-like reply, in which he
insisted that he had only done for Avatea what he would have done for any
woman under the sun. But Jack's forte did not lie in speech-making, so
he terminated rather abruptly by seizing the chief's hand and shaking it
violently, after which he made a hasty retreat.

"Now, then, Ralph and Peterkin," said Jack, as we mingled with the crowd,
"it seems to me that the object we came here for having been
satisfactorily accomplished, we have nothing more to do but get ready for
sea as fast as we can, and hurrah for dear old England!"

"That's my idea precisely," said Peterkin, endeavouring to wink, but he
had wept so much of late, poor fellow, that he found it difficult;
"however, I'm not going away till I see these fellows burn their gods."

Peterkin had his wish, for, in a few minutes afterwards, fire was put to
the pile, the roaring flames ascended, and, amid the acclamations of the
assembled thousands, the false gods of Mango were reduced to ashes!

CHAPTER XXXV.

Conclusion.

To part is the lot of all mankind. The world is a scene of constant
lea