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She cried over the lost Pettibone; over Tansy the cat, that had died from eating a lizard; over Nosey, her pet chicken, that Nantok had killed by mistake one night for supper; cried over papa and mamma, far away in the whaler totaled up all the little sadnesses of her little life, meting out tears to every one.
She went out and prattled with the army where they sprawled under the lee of the kitchen, smoking endless pandanus cigarettes. She helped Nantok prepare lunch a bowl of chocolate made with condensed milk, and hot buttered toast.
After lunch she had a nap with Nantok on the mats, and after that again an exciting talk about the great massacre on Tapatuea, where all Nantok's people had been killed during that Kanaka Saint Bartholomew's. Then out to the army again, and checkers, which the army played amazingly well, beating her so often that even this pastime palled. Then Oh, what a sigh!
Like all only children, living constantly in the society of her parents, and sharing their talk and plans, she was precociously old for her age, and more serious and thoughtful than a little tot ought to be. Though her lower lip trembled, and her eyes flooded with tears, she put on a brave face to it, and protested her willingness to remain with Nantok and be a good little girl.
"And mamma and papa will be back at dusk; and if they are detained, you mustn't be the least bit worried about them; and you'll let Nantok put you to bed at eight; and if you wake up and feel frightened, you are to remember the army outside, guarding you in your sleep like a little princess!" "And Dod, too," added Daisy piously, though inwardly pleased to have the army as well.
We can trust Nantok all right to take good care of her, and then I'll get Peter to send down an armed guard." Kirke acquiesced in silence. He was a tall, thin man, not over-clever, whose fervent Christianity was strangely at variance with a constitutional inclination to see the darker side of things.
He distrusted Nantok, distrusted the king's guard, felt a profound apprehension of that jeering, boisterous mob of sailors, who pigged together in Rick's old boatshed, and were numerous enough to defy every law of the island. It was terrible to him to leave his little girl in such company.
The room had been beautifully swept out, and likewise the porch, and Mr. Bell was in the act of dancing a fascinating clog to Papa Benson's "Soldier's Joy" on the concertina, when Nantok rushed in, shouting that Mr. Kirke was coming.
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