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Meanwhile, the enemy's artillery was still active, and we suffered. 2nd Lieut. Callard, a most promising junior officer, was killed, and with him C.S.M. F. Johnson of "C" Company. 2nd Lieuts. Russell and Creed were both wounded, and six men killed and several wounded at the same time, nearly all by shells in the communication trenches.
We might have spent many days in wandering about that strange, wild region, but we had seen enough to talk about ever afterwards. We got back safe to the station; and when there, we found that Mr Callard had resolved to remain some time on the island. He begged us, consequently, to take back the schooner to Honolulu, with directions for her to return for him in a fortnight.
"Don't taste bad, spread with Bovril," said Smith, as Johnson and Callard alighted from their carriage. The crowd had grown to immense proportions. Smith said they had been clamouring ever since Johnson had been gone, and he would rather like to know what they said. "Probably discussing whether the Commander of the Faithful won't order you to be flung into the Bosphorus," said Callard.
For some minutes Callard in vain tried to get a word in edgeways; then at last the Councillor, pushing back his fez with an air of weary patience, turned to the newcomers and asked their business. A few words sufficed; the Councillor rang a bell on the table, and when his secretary appeared, ordered him to make out a laissez-passer for Lieutenant Smith for all the Custom Houses of the Empire.
We accompanied the doctor, and knelt down by the side of the wounded man, who was evidently dying. He took the doctor's hand. "You kind to us, but you no help me now," he whispered, with his failing breath. "If you once more see Mr Callard my love to him I die happy. I trust in Him he taught me to cling to. Once I was poor savage. He made me rich." These were the poor Kanaka's last words.
Stone, who was at the helm, looked over his shoulder at the stranger. "Why, none whatever, Mr Frankland," he answered, after a minute's deliberation. "Then I do not see much use in running away," observed Jerry. "If we are to be killed, let us be killed at once, and have it over." "No, sir; as Mr Callard says, it's our duty to strive as long as we can. Our lives are in the hand of God.
Callard knew very well the necessity, in Turkish administrations, of having a friend at court, and was aware, too, that where a high official failed, a servant might succeed. But he was too well acquainted with the customs of the country to attempt to hasten matters unduly.
He began to discuss the weather; he compared the climate of his interlocutor's province with that of the city; he spoke of the approaching Bairam festivities. Then, apparently apropos of nothing, the man said, "I have been at the sheep-market to-day," a remark which Callard took as a broad hint for bakshish: the Turk wanted money to buy a fat sheep for the impending sacrifice.
Callard took no notice of them, but passed on with Johnson into the central hall, where, sitting over a charcoal brazier, they found a group of attendants rolling cigarettes and discussing the merits of the city's new water supply. Among them Callard spotted an acquaintance, who rose and said politely, "Welcome, dragoman bey, seat yourself."
The next morning, Mr Callard, the missionary, who was an old friend of Captain Frankland's, came on board, and invited Jerry and me and Mr McRitchie, and Mr Brand, if he could be spared, to accompany him to the large island of Hawaii, round which he was going to make a visitation tour. Having to wait here for information on some important matters, he gave us the leave we asked.
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