“She was, indeed, a brave girl,” said the Story King, as the Story Lady paused; “and deserved all her good fortune.”
“The next,” went on the Story Lady, smiling, “is the story of a young man and a young woman whose only ambition in life was to help others.”
THE tropical island of Aniwa drowsed in the afternoon sunshine. Long, lazy swells rolling in from the Pacific broke on the outlying reefs, overflowed into the turquoise bay, and gently lapped the stretch of sandy beach. The softest of breezes stirred the palm trees and rustled the banana thickets.
Before the door of a low, thatched hut, nestling under a clump of date-palms, stood a fair-haired young woman anxiously watching a canoe which was making a perilous passage through the surf to the shelter of the bay. When at last it slid into smooth water she breathed a sigh of relief and went slowly down the hill toward the shore.
The craft nosed stealthily up to the beach, where a stalwart, grave-faced white man sprang out; then the boat, propelled by the muscular arms of two kinky-headed blacks, slipped away and vanished around a little promontory.
“I’m glad you’re safe home, John,” the young woman cried, as the big man came swiftly toward her. “Is all well?”
“Very far from that, Margaret,” the newcomer answered, as he reached her side. “I’ve found a great deal of unrest throughout the island.”
“Yes,” he replied, and stood looking down upon her thoughtfully.
She came nearer and slipped her arm through his.
“I can see that you are anxious, John,” she said softly. “Do you fear an uprising?”
[Illustration: BEFORE THE DOOR OF A LOW, THATCHED HUT STOOD A FAIR-HAIRED YOUNG WOMAN]
“Margaret,” he exclaimed, as they turned and began to climb the hill to the hut, “I should not have brought you here!”
“Oh!” she cried. “More than anything else I desired the privilege of helping you in your work. Do you mean that I have failed? That I have proved a burden rather than a help?”
“You know it is not that,” he replied quickly. “You have been wonderful, dear. But I should not have allowed you to leave old Scotland for the hardships and perils of these heathen isles.”
“It has not been easy,” she acknowledged; “but I have never once regretted coming.”