day, our inquiries resulted in finding out that the stranger
had been on the island about two years; that she came from Sydney;
and was the wife of Mr. Bell (happy dog!), the proprietor of the
sugar plantation to which I have previously referred.

To the sugar plantation we went, the same day.

The country round about was very beautiful: a level basin of verdure,
surrounded by sloping hillsides. The sugar-cane--of which there was
about one hundred acres, in various stages of cultivation--looked
thrifty. A considerable tract of land, however, which seemed to have
been formerly tilled, was now abandoned.

The place where they extracted the saccharine matter was under an
immense shed of bamboos. Here we saw several clumsy pieces of
machinery for breaking the cane; also great kettles for boiling the
sugar. But, at present, nothing was going on. Two or three natives
were lounging in one of the kettles, smoking; the other was occupied
by three sailors from the Leviathan, playing cards.

While we were conversing with these worthies, a stranger approached.
He was a sun-burnt, romantic-looking European, dressed in a loose
suit of nankeen; his fine throat and chest were exposed, and he
sported a Guayaquil hat with a brim like a Chinese umbrella. This was
Mr. Bell. He was very civil; showed us the grounds, and, taking us
into a sort of arbour, to our surprise, offered to treat us to some
wine. People often do the like; but Mr. Bell did more: he produced
the bottle. It was spicy sherry; and we drank out of the halves of
fresh citron melons. Delectable goblets!

The wine was a purchase from, the French in Tahiti.

Now all this was extremely polite in Mr. Bell; still, we came to see
Mrs. Bell. But she proved to be a phantom, indeed; having left the
same morning for Papeetee, on a visit to one of the missionaries'
wives there.

I went home, much chagrined.

To be frank, my curiosity had been wonderfully piqued concerning the
lady. In the first place, she was the most beautiful white woman I
ever saw in Polynesia. But this is saying nothing. She had such eyes,
such moss-roses in her cheeks, such a divine air in the saddle, that,
to my dying day, I shall never forget Mrs. Bell.

The sugar-planter himself was young, robust, and handsome. So, merrily
may the little Bells increase, and multiply, and make music in the
Land of Imeeo.

CHAPTER LXXIX.

TALOO CHAPEL--HOLDING COURT IN POLYNESIA

IN Partoowye is to be seen on