d; there was only an end of a moon,
and that not due before the small hours. Round the village, what with
the lights and the fires in the open houses, and the torches of many
fishers moving on the reef, it kept as gay as an illumination; but the
sea and the mountains and woods were all clean gone. I suppose it might
be eight o'clock when I took the road, laden like a donkey. First there
was that Bible, a book as big as your head, which I had let myself in
for by my own tomfoolery. Then there was my gun, and knife, and lantern,
and patent matches, all necessary. And then there was the real plant of
the affair in hand, a mortal weight of gunpowder, a pair of dynamite
fishing bombs, and two or three pieces of slow match that I had hauled
out of the tin cases and spliced together the best way I could; for the
match was only trade stuff, and a man would be crazy that trusted it.
Altogether, you see, I had the materials of a pretty good blow-up!
Expense was nothing to me; I wanted that thing done right.

As long as I was in the open, and had the lamp in my house to steer by,
I did well. But when I got to the path, it fell so dark I could make no
headway, walking into trees and swearing there, like a man looking for
the matches in his bedroom. I knew it was risky to light up, for my
lantern would be visible all the way to the point of the cape, and as no
one went there after dark, it would be talked about, and come to Case's
ears. But what was I to do? I had either to give the business over and
lose caste with Maea, or light up, take my chance, and get through the
thing the smartest I was able.

As long as I was on the path I walked hard, but when I came to the black
beach I had to run. For the tide was now nearly flowed; and to get
through with my powder dry between the surf and the steep hill, took all
the quickness I possessed. As it was, even, the wash caught me to the
knees, and I came near falling on a stone. All this time the hurry I was
in, and the free air and smell of the sea, kept my spirits lively; but
when I was once in the bush and began to climb the path I took it
easier. The fearsomeness of the wood had been a good bit rubbed off for
me by Master Case's banjo-strings and graven images, yet I thought it
was a dreary walk, and guessed, when the disciples went up there, they
must be badly scared. The light of the lantern, striking among all these
trunks and forked branches and twisted rope-ends of lianas, made the