face and
hands this morning? Lady always wash every day over yonder in
Queensland."

Muriel nodded assent. It was all so strange to her. But Mali went to the
door and beckoned carelessly to one of the native girls just outside, who
drew near the line at the summons, with a somewhat frightened air,
putting one finger to her mouth in coyly uncertain savage fashion.

"Fetch me water from the spring!" Mali said, authoritatively, in
Polynesian. Without a moment's delay the girl darted off at the top of
her speed, and soon returned with a large calabash full of fresh cool
water, which she lay down respectfully by the taboo line, not daring to
cross it.

"Why didn't you get it yourself?" Muriel asked of her Shadow, rather
relieved than otherwise that Mali hadn't left her. It was something in
these dire straits to have somebody always near who could at least speak
a little English.

Mali started back in surprise. "Oh, that would never do," she answered,
catching a colloquial phrase she had often heard long before in
Queensland. "Me missy's Shadow. That great Taboo. If me go away out of
missy's sight, very big sin--very big danger. Man-a-Boupari catch me and
kill me like Jani, for no me stop and wait all the time on missy."

It was clear that human life was held very cheap on the island of
Boupari.

Muriel made her scanty toilet in the hut as well as she was able, with
the calabash and water, aided by a rough shell comb which Mali had
provided for her. Then she breakfasted, not ill, off eggs and fruit,
which Mali cooked with some rude native skill over the open-air fire
without in the precincts.

After breakfast, Felix came in to inquire how she had passed the night in
her new quarters. Already Muriel felt how odd was the contrast between
the quiet politeness of his manner as an English gentleman and the
strange savage surroundings in which they both now found themselves.
Civilization is an attribute of communities; we necessarily leave it
behind when we find ourselves isolated among barbarians or savages. But
culture is a purely personal and individual possession; we carry it with
us wherever we go; and no circumstances of life can ever deprive us of
it.

As they sat there talking, with a deep and abiding sense of awe at the
change (Muriel more conscious than ever now of how deep was her interest
in Felix Thurstan, who represented for her all that was dearest and best
in England), a curious noise, as of a discordant