said of us in these islands that we are never out of sight of the sea, and to most of us its sound is ever audible; but there is a vale hidden among the hills that wooes us from the shore, for it is within easy walking distance of the capital, and in the heart of it is a deep pool fed by a living stream: it is Ka pena. There, removed from the convocation of political worms, one may angle without bait, taking the flame-flaked goldfish by the handful; or, weary of this dalliance, bask upon beds of mimosa, stripped to the natural buff or old gold or bronze, as the case may be. The sensitive plant is all that recoils at our state, for we are under the shoulders of a high hill, and heights hem us in on every side; moreover, the approach to this famous bath is so delusive that a stranger might easily thread the path in search of the swimming-pool and turn back before he has sighted it; the way is not steep, but it is thorny, and the stream that it follows, which brawls among rocks and rushes, has so many tempting basins that a swimmer might easily fall by the wayside. Moreover, the points of the hills fit in and in, like hands that have been unclasped, and though the diminutive cascades are musical and the gigantic cacti ormidable, and the avenue of lauhala-that weird tree, with its roots in the air and the rail of its leaves like knots of yard-long, ray-green ribbon though the lauhala venue is unique, there is, as you well know, chance of the stranger losing heart at last, nd not placing his foot within the gates of Lapena. I don't claim for it a wide range of color; or has it any feature that is remarkable in rm; it is merely a stream tumbling beteen bowlders into a placid sheet of not urticularly clear water. On one side is a ojecting cliff bearded with shadows; on e other a steep slope carpeted with ferns d creepers. Above the waterfall one tches a glimpse of distant hills, on which e sun seems always to be shining. Below, e view is limited. The descending path fol*s the outlet under one of the rocky ights and soon is lost to view. There is really very little to distinguish the place from any of the thousand and one bathing haunts of the Hawaiians, but its associations are very dear to the people; for the solitary cocoa palm that leans from the bank of Kapena has outlived several amphibious generations, and it will probably look just as it looks today a little ragged and weather-worn and awfully lonesome-for amphibious generations to come. It is when the sun is hottest on a halfholiday that Kapena awakens; soothed by the lullaby of its own waters, it often sleeps; its palm is a slumberous palm at all times, for it no doubt prefers to dream of the days when the nation was heroic and when its heroes came hither to refresh themselves;— did you never lie there a-dreaming in the silence and the summer sunshine, a-dreaming with one eye open, if, peradventure, an angel might trouble the pool? At times, Kapena is filled with swimmers they spend hours in the water and upon the banks; brown, sleek, glossy fellows sunning themselves like seals upon the rocks; running, romping, wrestling, diving to see who shall stay longest under water, or climbing to the top of the cliff and leaping off-an exhibition not only of daring but of exceeding grace. Who of us will forget the seasons we have spent there when the rocks rang with musical laughter? when the shores were peopled by water-nymphs? when the bronze cupids ate madly of rare-ripe watermelon and drank deeply of ginger-pop? when the sages were boys again, and the boys were imps, and Kapena was beaten to a froth with the frantic gambols of the innocents? Why do I remind you of all this if you do not see again, while you read, what I see whenever I get the chance to? if you don't remember that the native modesty of the native nude is so convincing it requires no apology for the absence of everything else? Do you not recall that brilliant tableau of the flower of Hawaii? plump as a mango, graceful as a bamboo-wand, poised upon the dreadful summit of the cliff, ready to plunge like a shooting star into the depths below. He is about to dive through two elements, rosetinted air and amber-tinted water-out of the sunset into the dark! All eyes are upon him, for the beauty of his flight is unparalleled, and, as he poises for a moment upon the extremest verge of the abyss in an attitude that might quicken the soul of a sculp tor, he seems to chant, in the words of the revised Psalmist: "Wash me, and I shall be browner than soap!" VI. HAWAIIAN HOTEL, HONOLULU, H. I. Miserable American: are swarming with tourists, mostly Colonial That the Colonist has little knowledge of us is evident from the first; that he accepts our amiable explanations of the situation. with the generous condescension of one who considers himself a superior being is evident to the last. His hopeless perplexity over the relative value of English and American coinage; the startling ingenuousness of his interrogations; his comic confusion at the bar, where, perhaps, for the first time in his life, he attempts to solve the mystery of mixed drinks, do not drag him down to our level; we are still to be numbered among the milder attractions of the Hawaiian menagerie, and it is for this reason, I suppose, that the old kangaroo in knickerbockers, and the dowager emu on his arm, turn from us disdainfully when we have been ogled to their hearts' content. Do you realize in what low esteem you are held by your Colonial cousin? It is true that he condescends to pass through your great country on his way to the diminutive mother-land; but it may be that the cholera in Egypt or the war in Africa compels this. I would not have you think that there are condescension, and in most cases you will not glorious men who come out of the bush; please regard it as compulsory patronage. grand men having immense individuality; The Colonist at home is doubtless a very philosophers who have plunged into the proper fellow, being one with all things an- waste places of the dark continent and dwelt tipodean; but the Colonist abroad is insulat- there, and who have come back into the ed-the pelican of the wilderness not more world again with a spiritual and mental And while he is still swollen with Aus- growth that ought to atone for the absence tral pride, he touches our shore and humbles of it in so many of their fellows; these stalwart explorers are not for a moment to be confounded with the average specimen, who, so long as he infests the hotel, is miserably divided between an anxiety as to the hour of "tiffin," and an over-willingness to cast his eye upon Government House and hallow SO. us in the dust. Of course you will not comprehend this, for the Colonist as you know him—if indeed you know him at all—is an angular nonentity, tipped with a cork-helmet and with a field-glass on his hip; or he is a perfectly round and well-fed, if not over-fed, person, it. whose face seems to have had all expression He has suffered no sea-change since the scrubbed out of it; on the street he is an in-hour he abandoned the provinces; he stalks terrogation in a puggery, or a satirical, parenthetical comment inclosed in feminine brackets. In the human ebb and flow upon your crowded pavements he is no more than a bubble upon a stream; but with us it is otherwise. We count the day, almost the hour, when the mail-packet is due from Australia; and from the cupola above we can track her passage from the horizon to the dock. No sooner is she comfortably moored than carriages begin to arrive at the hotel, and very shortly the corridors and verandas haughtily through our streets with an air im plying that it is his conviction that Provi dence, mindful of the possible visitation of stray Australian, has therefore touched of a volcano of no mean dimensions to ligh him on his way. The Colonial transit is not without inter est, for the Colonists in transitu descen upon us in full feather, and depart like precipitous flight of cranes-and this is least spectacular! Sic transit gloria coloniarum! VII. HONOLULU, H. I. Reverend dear Father: High mass was over in the cathedral; twin sanctuary boys in scarlet cassocks and starched surplices were reverently extinguishing the tapers upon the altar; the air was still freighted with incense when I withdrew and wended my way to the post-office. The post-office is a shrine to which many pilgrimages are made on Sunday; the business man fulfills this duty religiously; neither wind nor weather prevails against him. The angelus was ringing as I returned; a great throng of worshipers that yet lingered within the Mission gates stood with heads uncovered from Angelus Domini to the last amen. Then I wandered up the valley thinking of you and of the days when you were with us seeking refreshment and rest; a celebrant at that most precious altar; our guide, phiosopher, and friend in suburban explorations und in quiet hours by the sea. But Sunday s no longer a day of rest for you, nor is it ikely that you will ever again know rest till ou have dropped in harness somewhere by he wayside, or in the mart, or the wilderess that has been trodden by your tireless et these many, many years. I wish you might have been with us to ay, sweet saint! You would have seen ow I find a day of rest now and again; I, ho need it so little yet have it, while you, ho are so much in need of it, have it not. owever, I know that you will not begrudge e the avenue of royal palms I threaded, or the lawn, with its breadths of plush, nor e peristyle of roses, beneath which is a ige jade vase, bearing an epic of wonderid in high relief, and beyond which is a t-a kind of dove-cote perdu. Here one is sure of a welcome that just fits into a day of rest and perfects it. Under a canopy of creepers and climbers in bud, blossom, and fruit, there is a lounge with a happy valley in it where one may curl up and purr; there are easy-chairs for cigarettes and tiny tables for black coffee after a dinner of unexampled delicacy and deliciousness. There is a dusky room, full of dainty wares, the silence of which is broken at intervals by a light touch upon the piano-keys-wandering fingers in search of forgotten melodies; and there is a youngster flitting about like a butterfly—a youngster that may have stepped out of the stained glass window of some dim cathedral and been made flesh, for aught I know. If the afternoon light is fierce, we make a tent of jamdari draperies, or hang folds of orange velvet for a screen, upon which shadow leaves are wrought in Japanese style, and we have an afterglow exquisite and exclusive. And ever the flight of time is unheeded; clocks strike-if they care to strike-for the mere fun of it, and not at all in a business way. There are silent interludes; there are pages to be conned or let alone; sometimes we bubble over with mirth, for this also is restful; but nothing is permitted to disturb the repose which we cultivate as chief of the fine arts, not even the sharp showers that drive over us at uncertain intervals, with the clatter of hail, leaving the grass and the flowers powdered with brilliants. It seems that nothing but night and darkness can round off so serenely sensuous an experience, and in the darkness of night we dissolve away, two of us walking side by side. Would we might make it three, ghostly father, but as we may not here's rue for you— "we call it herb-o'-grace o' Sundays"-the grace I wish you and all Christian souls. Selah. Charles Warren Stoddard. CHAPTER XXVI. ANNETTA. THE lamp carried forth was first ravaged of its flame, then shivered, globe and shade. Annetta heard and felt the crash. She heard and felt that long, terrible cry shiver into many menacing shrieks, and whirl away like chaff before a wind-burst. There ensued a moment's palpitating silence. The sounds treading in upon it were deep as the grave and full of its awfulness. The night-air, blowing in through the dark, open door, made for these groans a fit atmosphere. They grew louder, they drew nearer. Whatever indescribable noises indicated an approach, with them mingled no footsteps. "Not here!" wailed Annetta. The shuffling motions continued, the inarticulate agony crowded itself toward speech, but overlapped words and linked them. "Och, Miss Bairtmore! Och, God above! Help! It's a bloody corpse I am." Annetta recognized nothing save a terror -distinct enough and greater, being more abject than aught she could conceive. "What has happened? Who are you?" "Acushla, she doesn't know me. chewed up an' shpat intil me coffin." I'm The appeal now degenerated into ejaculations, hoarsely monotonous. Annetta's flesh crept. "Don't stir!" she commanded. She fumbled blindfold about the room. She found the matches, at last striking one effectually. The gas-jet glared high as if eager to dispel nameless horrors. This horror had a name more terrible than anything Annetta could have outlined. She had seen a brother's blood without shrieking, yet she shrieked now. "Where are your friends-the rest of the men?" she queried behind her hands. "Belike -ochone! the wurrums have hould iv me now!-belike the boys is off af "The man is dead; here is his ghost trying to take refuge in my body. Query: could anything so white come out of a deed so black as murder? This must be one of the souls of truth said to exist in things er roneous. To drag a weary being from his bed and then knock his breath--when did you turn projectile, Miss Bartmore, and who fired you at me?" The quality of tone varied from a puzzied snarl to an enlightened. "How glad I am," said Annetta, givin vent to her quivering relief. But immedi ately, in a different key, remembering wha she had been through, "O, Dr. Portmeath' If under this apostrophe lurked an appea the Doctor apparently remained deaf to i His ears were claimed by Jerry. Thos groans spoke a language his instincts obeye He flew up the office steps, his male com panion following heavily and Annetta dizzi She remained without the door. But sh whipped up her courage to quaver, "Do you need my assistance, sir?" "The assistance of a young woman to tend a brute?" This in great irascibility from within. "Not till I turn brute myself, and the tendance of other brutes is unobtainable. Stop your yelping, you hound! What business had you to thrust your muzzle in here? Up on your hind-legs this minute, and off to your kennel. Yes; you can walk! Up, I say. So! Now, sir, tell me, before I try to patch you together, whether you or the other dog began this work." The groans approached Annetta. She fled, hiding her eyes as if the darkness was not enough. The back gate closing, she darted into the office, supposing it empty. Her disappointment could not be concealed. "Is it so bad as this, Miss Bairtmore?" cried Dan. He was very pale. When he put up a hand as if to ward off any word confirming the recoil he had just witnessed, it shook exceedingly. "I thought myself alone," Annetta exlained. She looked worn and weary, as well she "I only ask wan wurrd," he burst out. The She had reason to be sick unto death of class of people with whom that night Dan d signally connected himself. She was k unto death of him. "I've been mad. I came to speak with 1, to get my cure from you, two hours You wud not let me in." Annetta's lips parted. She closed them. ere need be no explanations on her side lengthen this scene. She tried to impose nce on Dan. He disregarded her gesEverything seemed impossible to him to rush on with increasing self-torment. "I did what human creature can while there was hope. And hope there was all through those long months away. I slept not a moment afther your letther, till I saw you. Then my throuble began. I had climbed the hill toward the star, but the star had been climbing the sky." You re Annetta eyed him aloof, unforgivingly. "You talked of Misther Bell. I asked you if you and he was to marry. member what you answered. An' I believed you, though the boys gossiped and Bell boasted. I believed you, until, inviting me to dinner, your first speech was of him. Then my mind wint back an' forth, blowin' like something pinned to a line in a high wind. My hairt was pinned to your truth; the rest was only my fears. Why did you keep as cold as death? Why did you shut me out to-night? I went back to camp. The boys was wild. News had just come that you and Bell was married on the sly." Annetta's lip curled. Dan quaked now. He had parched for an opportunity to speak with Annetta alone. The fountain had been gained. It was dry. Faith in the potency of certain explanations utterly forsook him. He recalled how resolute, how implacable, this girl could be. This was but the old scene of the rejected letter over again. He had forced her decision then, he had forced it now. Was there no way to start anew with her? Was there no common ground where on to stand with her? He would have given his heart's best blood to be sure of retaining even her friendship; to be permitted to meet her on the old terms: he, a pupil; she, the teacher. This, after all his hopings and dreamings. Annetta's indignation gathered. He saw and endured a moment of controlled yet terrified despair. The wings of his thoughts. whirred in every direction. He fumbled with a hand across his brow. |