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She had died alone. I think she made up her mind to relieve the Englishman of her care, and willed to die at once. Dr. Cassiou, with whom I visited her, said: "She ought to have lasted several months. Mais, c'est curieux. I have treated these Polynesians for many years, and I never found one I could keep alive when he wanted to die.
The ol' woman remember she hear little cry in night, an' when a girl live my hotel tell her she saw Pepe diggin' in garden, she talk and talk, an' by 'n' by police come, an' fin' babee under rose-bush. It dead, but Cassiou, he say, been breathe when bury, because have air in lung.
They, too, had a line of gay ribbon from nipple to nipple. These three and the boulevardier, the gay secretary, sat upon the stage beside a stack of gilded red books. The band played "La Croix d'Honneur," and the good Dr. Cassiou read from a manuscript his annual address in a low voice becoming a ministrant at sick-beds.
Now, she's got the con from him, I suppose, and it would be a shabby trick to leave her when she's dying and will be a mother in two months, according to Doctor Cassiou!" He made a wry face and lit his pipe. The girl could not understand a word and sat immovable. "She's Marquesan," he went on.
'E's tired, but 'e gets a lantern, an' sees the kid there, like a bleedin' wreck on the reef. It fair knocks 'im out, an' 'e sits down on the same step, an' when the kanaka comes in the mornin' to sweep up, 'e fin's the two o' them." Landers broke in: "Blow me! I'd 'a' hated to been that poor kanaka! But Doctor Cassiou, the coroner, said it was suicide all right. Llewellyn's in the clear."
Doctor Cassiou, a very old resident, and not at all fierce, asked his confrere against whom would the grapeshot be directed. Would he gather the fishermen from all over Tahiti, and decimate them, the way the Little Corporal purged mutiny out of his regiments? Lontane was sent out again.
It was eight o'clock when the governor entered on the arm of the president of the Alliance, Dr. Cassiou. He was in a white drill uniform, with deep cuffs of gold bullion, and a blazing row of orders on his breast. The république outdoes many monarchies in decorating with these baubles its heroes of politics.
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