CHAPTER XI

Who that has ever seen it will forget daybreak on a fine morning in Honolulu Harbour? Surely no one. The background of tree-clad island, so dark yet so suggestive of tropical luxuriance; the sky overhead so full of rainbow hues, and the sea so calm and yet possessed of all the colours of the inside of a pearl shell. When one sees it one is forced to the conclusion that there could never be another like it. It is beautiful beyond conception.

The sun had not yet made his appearance above the horizon when Mr. Leversidge and I left the hotel at which we had been residing since our arrival in the island, and made our way down to the small steamer we had chartered, and which had been ordered to be ready to put to sea with us at a moment's notice. Information had been brought to us late the night before that the schooner, whose coming we had been so eagerly awaiting, had been sighted further down the coast, and, in consequence, we were anxious to put off to her as soon as might be.

"The chase is growing exciting," said Mr. Leversidge, as we crossed the gangway and bade the skipper "Good-morning!" "It is to be hoped the reverend gentleman has not left his vessel in the Gilberts and made off in another direction. In that case we shall in all probability have lost sight of him for good and all."

"I'm not afraid of that," I answered. "In the first place he would not be able to get enough for his booty there to make it worth his while to sell, and in the second I have a sort of conviction that he is making for America. Such a pearl as he has with him would command a much better figure in San Francisco than it would be likely to do either here or in the Gilberts, and from what I have seen of the man I should say he was quite smart enough to be aware of that fact."

"I am glad to hear you say so," returned Mr. Leversidge. "Nevertheless, I shall not feel easy in my mind until I have it in my possession once more. I shall not forget the chase this man has given us as long as I live."

"I don't suppose you will," I said. "It has been exciting enough in all conscience. I only hope the finish may be satisfactory."

"I hope it may," he answered quietly. And just then I heard the skipper whistle the engine-room, and presently we cast off our moorings and got under weigh. Throwing a trail of black smoke behind us we left the harbour and passed out to sea, the mate at the wheel, the skipper pacing the bridge, and Leversidge and I straining our eyes in search of the vessel for which we were so anxiously waiting. It was upwards of an hour, however, before we saw her white sails rising above the sea line ahead of us. Half an hour later only five miles or so separated us, and every moment was bringing us closer to each other. When we had come so near that we could even distinguish the people standing on her decks, I approached our commander.

"Now then, captain," I said, "the sooner you lay us on board that boat the better we shall be pleased. I've a letter to deliver to the skipper from his owners, and it must be in his possession with as little delay as possible."

"I'll do my best," he answered, and immediately put his helm over.

The schooner's captain, seeing that we wished to speak him, hove his vessel to, when our skipper sang out that he would send a boat. One was soon alongside, and into her, when her crew had taken their places at the oars, Mr. Leversidge and I bundled. Ten minutes later we had been hauled aboard the schooner, and I was presenting the captain with the