Sheldon certainly was not happy. The unconventional state of affairs was
too much for his conservative disposition and training. Berande,
inhabited by one lone white man, was no place for Joan Lackland. Yet he
racked his brain for a way out, and even talked it over with her. In the
first place, the steamer from Australia was not due for three weeks.
"One thing is evident: you don't want me here," she said. "I'll man the
whale-boat to-morrow and go over to Tulagi."
"But as I told you before, that is impossible," he cried. "There is no
one there. The Resident Commissioner is away in Australia. Them is only
one white man, a third assistant understrapper and ex-sailor--a common
sailor. He is in charge of the government of the Solomons, to say
nothing of a hundred or so niggers--prisoners. Besides, he is such a
fool that he would fine you five pounds for not having entered at Tulagi,
which is the port of entry, you know. He is not a nice man, and, I
repeat, it is impossible."
"There is Guvutu," she suggested.
He shook his head.
"There's nothing there but fever and five white men who are drinking
themselves to death. I couldn't permit it."
"Oh thank you," she said quietly. "I guess I'll start to-day.--Viaburi!
You go along Noa Noah, speak 'm come along me.
Pages:
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73