th his abrupt
cackle.

"There is yet time to get away to sea, brave gentlemen. You can tow
across the lagoon with your whaleboats."

"It's all right, old man," said Darling, the mate of the _Cactus_, a
stalwart youngster of twenty-five. "The blow's to the southward and
passing on. We'll not get a whiff of it."

An air of relief went through the room. Conversations were started, and
the voices became louder. Several of the buyers even went back to the
table to continue the examination of the pearls.

Parlay's shrill cackle rose higher.

"That's right," he encouraged. "If the world was coming to an end you'd
go on buying."

"We'll buy these to-morrow just the same," Isaacs assured him.

"Then you'll be doing your buying in hell."

The chorus of incredulous laughter incensed the old man. He turned
fiercely on Darling.

"Since when have children like you come to the knowledge of storms? And
who is the man who has plotted the hurricane-courses of the Paumotus?
What books will you find it in? I sailed the Paumotus before the oldest
of you drew breath. I know. To the eastward the paths of the hurricanes
are on so wide a circle they make a straight line. To the westward here
they make a sharp curve. Remember your chart. How did it happen the
hurricane of '91 swept Auri and Hiolau? The curve, my brave boy, the
curve! In an hour, or two or three at most, will come the wind. Listen
to that!"

A vast rumbling crash shook the coral foundations of the atoll. The
house quivered to it. The native servants, with bottles of whiskey and
absinthe in their hands, shrank together as if for protection and stared
with fear through the windows at the mighty wash of the wave lapping far
up the beach to the corner of a copra-shed.

Parlay looked at the barometer, giggled, and leered around at his
guests. Captain War-field strode across to see.

"29:75," he read. "She's gone down five more. By God! the old devil's
right. She's a-coming, and it's me, for one, for aboard."

"It's growing dark," Isaacs half whispered.

"Jove! it's like a stage," Mulhall said to Grief, looking at his watch.
"Ten o'clock in the morning, and it's like twilight. Down go the lights
for the tragedy. Where's the slow music!"

In answer, another rumbling crash shook the atoll and the house. Almost
in a panic the company started for the door. In the dim light their
sweaty faces appeared ghastly. Isaacs panted asthmatically in the
suffocating heat.

"What