of twelve hours' heat, and
misery, and hope deferred.

'Curse that damned bell! There it goes again, though half of the people
are dead, and the other half are dying like rotten sheep! Oh, for a
ship, or rain, or a howling gale--anything but this!'

He dashed his pipe furiously upon the verandah, and then flung himself
into a cane lounge, pressed his hands to his ears, and swore silently at
the jarring clamour of the hated church bell.

Lita's brown hand touched him on the shoulder.

'Wassa th' matter, Tom, wis you?'

'Oh, go away, for God's sake, Lita, there's a good girl. Leave me alone.
Go to church, and tell Ioane I'll give him a couple of dollars not to
ring that damned, infernal bell again to-day. I'm going mad! I'll get
drunk, I think, like Ransom. My God! just think of it, girl! Twelve
months without a ship, and this hateful, God-forsaken island turning
into a pest-house.'

'Wasa is pesta-house, Tom?'

'Place where they put people in to die--lazzaretto, charnel-house,
morgue, living grave! Oh, go away, girl, go to the blarsted church if
you want to, and leave me alone.'

Her slender fingers touched his hand timidly.

'I don' wan' go to church, Tom. I don' wan' leave you here to get mad
an' lon'ly by yourse'f.'

'Very well, old woman, stay here with me. Perhaps a breeze may come
by-and-by and then we can breathe. How many people died yesterday,
Lita?'

''Bout nine, Tom--four men, tree woman, an' some child.'

'Poor devils! I wish I had some medicine for them. But I'm hanged if
I know what it is--some sort of cholera brought here by that infernal
American missionary brig, I believe. Hallo! there's Ioane beginning.'

* * * * *

The white-walled native church was not a stone's throw away, and through
the wide, paneless windows and open doors the deep voice of Ioane, the
Samoan native teacher, sounded clearly and solemnly in the still, heated
morn. Wallis, with his wide straw hat covering his bronzed face, lay
back in the lounge, and, at first, took no heed. Lita, sitting at his
feet, rested her chin on one hand and listened intently.

'Turn ye all, men and women of this afflicted land of Nukutavau, to the
Word of God, which is written in the Book of Isaiah, in the fortieth
chapter and the sixth verse. It was to my mind that we should first
sing to the praise of Jehovah; but, alas! we cannot sing to-day; for my
cheeks are wetted with many tears, and my belly is burs