, as Frewen spoke, saw
that the boat was deeply-laden with fruit; and the cackling of fowls
and sudden squeal of a pig convinced him that everything was right. And
then, in a few minutes, Frewen and Raymond clambered up the side and
walked quickly aft to where Ryan stood on the poop.

"How do you do, captain?" said Frewen, holding out his hand. "Where are
you from, sir?"

"Valparaiso to Batavia," was the glib reply, as the mutineer shook
hands with his visitors. "Are you living on shore there?" and he nodded
towards Samatau.

"Yes, this is my partner. We have a cotton plantation there. We have
brought you off a boatload of fresh provisions. Perhaps you can spare
us a cask of salt beef in exchange? Pork is the only meat we have on
shore."

"Very well, I can easily do that," was the reply.

Frewen went to the side and hailed the watchful Cheyne.

"Pass up all that stuff, Randall," he said.

Aided by the Chileno seamen, Cheyne and the four natives soon cleared
the boat of the livestock and fruit, whilst Ryan, who had not yet asked
his visitors below, continued to talk to them on deck, although he
told one of the crew, whom he addressed as "steward," to bring up
refreshments.

"Now, captain," continued Frewen, speaking in the most friendly
manner, "you must set to and tow your ship away from here as quietly
as possible, or you will go ashore if this calm lasts. You can't anchor
anywhere near here, the water is too deep."

"Perhaps you will help me? I am short-handed. Twelve of my crew took
the longboat and deserted from me during the voyage, and I am in a tight
place."

"Oh, well, captain, we must try and help you out of it to the best
of our ability." He raised his glass. "I am glad to have met you,
Captain------," and he paused.

"Ryan is my name. The ship is the _Esmeralda_."

"And a beautiful ship she is, too. You must be proud to command such a
splendid vessel, sir."

"She is a fine ship," was the brief reply. "Now will you please tell me
how you are going to help me?"

CHAPTER VIII

Frewen seemed to think for a moment or two ere he replied; then he
looked at Raymond inquiringly.

"How long would it take to send to Falealili,{*} and ask Tom Morton, the
trader, to come with his two boats and help the captain?" he asked.

* A large native town on the south side of Upolu.

"A day at least--too long altogether with such a strong current setting
the ship towards the reef."

"Ah, yes, I