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Updated: May 16, 2025
He spread out his arms like a crucifix; his face shone with the brightness of a seraph's; in his voice, as it rose to the last word, the tears seemed ready. Herrick made a vigorous call upon himself. "Attwater," he said, "you push me beyond bearing. What am I to do? I do not believe. It is living truth to you: to me, upon my conscience, only folk-lore.
First, because they're too valuable to trust out of his hands. Second, because pearls want a lot of handling and matching; and the man who sells his pearls as they come in, one here, one there, instead of hanging back and holding up well, that man's a fool, and it's not Attwater. 'Likely, said Huish, 'that's w'at it is; not proved, but likely. 'It's proved, said Davis bluntly.
"Well, then, I'll tell you what: you three gentlemen come ashore this evening and bring a basket of wine with you; I'll try and find the food," he said. "And by the by, here is a question I should have asked you when I came on board: have you had small-pox?" "Personally, no," said Herrick. "But the schooner had it." "Deaths?" from Attwater. "Two," said Herrick.
'I find it heavenly, said Herrick, breathing deep, with head bared in the shadow. 'Ah, that's because you're new from sea, said Attwater. 'I dare say, too, you can appreciate what one calls it. It's a lovely name. It has a flavour, it has a colour, it has a ring and fall to it; it's like its author it's half Christian!
They're four to two; though there's only one man among them to count, and that's Attwater. Get a bead on Attwater, and the others would cut and run and sing out like frightened poultry and old man Herrick would come round with his hat for a share of the pearls. No, sir! it's how to get hold of Attwater! And we daren't even go ashore; he would shoot us in the boat like dogs."
Herrick was embarrassed; the silken brutality of their visitor made him blush; that he should be accepted as an equal, and the others thus pointedly ignored, pleased him in spite of himself, and then ran through his veins in a recoil of anger. "I don't know," he said. "It's only California; it's good enough, I believe." Attwater seemed to make up his mind.
They sat down to an island dinner, remarkable for its variety and excellence; turtle soup and steak, fish, fowls, a sucking pig, a cocoanut salad, and sprouting cocoanut roasted for dessert. Not a tin had been opened; and save for the oil and vinegar in the salad, and some green spears of onion which Attwater cultivated and plucked with his own hand, not even the condiments were European.
It is 'ard lines, no doubt; it's 'ard lines to have to hown yourself beat; it's 'ard lines to 'ave to come and beg to you for charity." "When, if things had only gone right, the whole place was as good as your own?" suggested Attwater. "I can understand the feeling." "You are judging me, Mr. Attwater," said the clerk, "and God knows how unjustly!
How he would regret it, if he knew you had been here! said Attwater. ''E's on the Trinity 'All, ain't he? asked Huish. 'And if you could tell me where the Trinity 'All was, you would confer a favour, Mr Whish! was the reply. 'I suppose she has a native crew? said Davis. 'Since the secret has been kept ten years, one would suppose she had, replied Attwater. 'Well, now, see 'ere! said Huish.
On the right, whither Attwater pointed and abruptly turned, was the cemetery of the island, a field of broken stones from the bigness of a child's hand to that of his head, diversified by many mounds of the same material, and walled by a rude rectangular enclosure.
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