morning the cables wished to know whether he had found the crew
of the Haliotis. They were to be found, freed and fed--he was to feed
them--till such time as they could be sent to the nearest English port
in a man-of-war. If you abuse a man long enough in great words flashed
over the sea-beds, things happen. The Governor sent inland swiftly for
his prisoners, who were also soldiers; and never was a militia regiment
more anxious to reduce its strength. No power short of death could make
these mad men wear the uniform of their service. They would not fight,
except with their fellows, and it was for that reason the regiment
had not gone to war, but stayed in a stockade, reasoning with the
new troops. The autumn campaign had been a fiasco, but here were the
Englishmen. All the regiment marched back to guard them, and the hairy
enemy, armed with blow-pipes, rejoiced in the forest. Five of the crew
had died, but there lined up on the Governor's verandah two-and-twenty
men marked about the legs with the scars of leech-bites. A few of them
wore fringes that had once been trousers; the others used loin-cloths of
gay patterns; and they existed beautifully but simply in the Governor's
verandah, and when he came out they sang at him. When you have lost
seventy thousand pounds' worth of pearls, your pay, your ship, and
all your clothes, and have lived in bondage for five months beyond the
faintest pretences of civilisation, you know what true independence
means, for you become the happiest of created things--natural man.

The Governor told the crew that they were evil, and they asked for food.
When he saw how they ate, and when he remembered that none of the pearl
patrol-boats were expected for two months, he sighed. But the crew
of the Haliotis lay down in the verandah, and said that they were
pensioners of the Governor's bounty. A grey-bearded man, fat and
bald-headed, his one garment a green-and-yellow loin-cloth, saw the
Haliotis in the harbour, and bellowed for joy. The men crowded to
the verandah-rail, kicking aside the long cane chairs. They pointed,
gesticulated, and argued freely, without shame. The militia regiment sat
down in the Governor's garden. The Governor retired to his hammock--it
was as easy to be killed lying as standing--and his women squeaked from
the shuttered rooms.

"She sold?" said the grey-bearded man, pointing to the Haliotis. He was
Mr. Wardrop.

"No good," said the Governor, shaking his head. "No one