fuse this chance, that you'll go on doing the
evangelical; you're about through with your stock; and before you know
where you are, you'll be right out on the other side. No, it's either
this for you; or else it's Caledonia. I bet you never were there, and
saw those white, shaved men, in their dust-clothes and straw hats,
prowling around in gangs in the lamplight at Noumea; they look like
wolves, and they look like preachers, and they look like the sick; Huish
is a daisy to the best of them. Well, there's your company. They're
waiting for you, Herrick, and you got to go; and that's a prophecy."

And as the man stood and shook through his great stature, he seemed
indeed like one in whom the spirit of divination worked and might utter
oracles. Herrick looked at him, and looked away; it seemed not decent to
spy upon such agitation; and the young man's courage sank.

"You talk of going home," he objected. "We could never do that."

"_We_ could," said the other. "Captain Brown couldn't, nor Mr. Hay that
shipped mate with him couldn't. But what's that to do with Captain Davis
or Mr. Herrick, you galoot?"

"But Hayes had these wild islands where he used to call," came the next
fainter objection.

"We have the wild islands of Peru," retorted Davis. "They were wild
enough for Stephens, no longer agone than just last year. I guess
they'll be wild enough for us."

"And the crew?"

"All Kanakas. Come, I see you're right, old man. I see you'll stand by."
And the captain once more offered his hand.

"Have it your own way then," said Herrick. "I'll do it: a strange thing
for my father's son. But I'll do it. I'll stand by you, man, for good or
evil."

"God bless you!" cried the captain, and stood silent. "Herrick," he
added with a smile, "I believe I'd have died in my tracks if you'd said
No!"

And Herrick, looking at the man, half believed so also.

"And now we'll go break it to the bummer," said Davis.

"I wonder how he'll take it," said Herrick.

"Him? Jump at it!" was the reply.

CHAPTER IV

THE YELLOW FLAG

The schooner _Farallone_ lay well out in the jaws of the pass, where the
terrified pilot had made haste to bring her to her moorings and escape.
Seen from the beach through the thin line of shipping, two objects stood
conspicuous to seaward: the little isle, on the one hand, with its palms
and the guns and batteries raised forty years before in defence of Queen
Pomare's capital; the outcast _Farallo