Her very presence stimulated me in a
manner that I could not express, and as I stared out across the
moon-whitened ocean I started nervously at the thought which had sprung
suddenly into my brain. It was an insane thought, and I tried to laugh
it away. Edith Herndon was as far above me as the moon was above the
waves that were silvered by her beams. I pictured myself lying like a
beachcomber upon the pile of pearl shell when the strange chant of the
Maori and the dead Toni concerning "the way to heaven out of Black
Fernando's hell" had come to my ears, and I blessed the new influence
which had come into my life.
"My way to heaven lies in this direction," I soliloquized, and the
quivering yacht went bounding on as I allowed wild dreams to race
unchecked through my brain.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER VI
THE ISLE OF TEARS
A sleepy Samoan in the main cross-trees screamed a message to the deck
while the pink flush of the tropical dawn was still in the sky, and _The
Waif_ plunged through the water toward the island. One after the other
the members of the expedition came on deck.
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