Page:Weird Tales v33n05 (1939-05).djvu/122

known device to ensure the desired oblivion; the mere fact that I was desperately anxious to sleep was sufficient to keep me wide awake. Not to be defeated, I made my bed there that night, having previously (for I had no desire to alarm the ladies of the household by any hint of supernatural happenings) made the unusually hot weather my excuse. But I must have slept too soundly on these occasions, for nothing unusual took place. I had almost resigned myself to George's view of the matter when, without warning, I experienced the sequel to the previous manifestation.

Once more it happened on an afternoon. The weather was oppressively hot, without a breath of wind stirring; the sky was overcast by low clouds and there was a hint of thunder in the air. I had been working at high pressure for the past few days in order to make up for time lost in my former experiments, and sleep came to me unbidden.

It seemed as if I had scarcely closed my eyes before I was aware of the slow, regular motion of a sea-borne ship. Eagerly I looked through the open door. Yes, there was the same low island with its ring of snow-white coral and its fretwork of bronze-green palms outlined against the sky.

Once again I experienced that strange, detached sensation of being an invisible observer of a scene of long ago.

Seated at the table, her brows puckered into a puzzled frown as she bent over an open book, was a young native girl. Her complexion of warm copper-brown, her scarlet, small-lipped mouth and straight nose, the hair which fell in wavy masses over her gently curving breasts, all seemed to indicate that at least some white blood coursed beneath the smooth, satin-like skin.

A shadow fell across the doorway and the young boy whom I knew as Davy entered.

"Hullo, Lèla,” he cried gayly. "Trying your hand at white-man magic? Ah, you'll need a bit of schooling before you'll get that book to talk to you!"

There was a flash of white teeth as her lips parted in a smile of welcome and a deeper tinge crept into her cheeks. But an instant later her lips drooped in a rebellious pout.

"Why um book no speak to Lèla same's you?” she demanded. "Lèla all same white Mary-girl. Um?"

There was something like pity in the boy's eyes as he looked down at the face upturned so eagerly to his.

"Not quite the same, Lèla. But you wouldn't understand the difference if I tried to explain. But don't puzzle your pretty head over that old book. Here's something you can understand better."

He drew a necklace of glittering glass beads from his pocket and threw it over her head.

"Ohè!" She uttered a squeal of childish pleasure, then dashed to the looking-glass at the end of the deckhouse and stood twisting her sinuous body so as to make the sunlight catch the stones. Suddenly, as though seized by a passing fear, she ceased her contortions and returned to the boy, searching his face with troubled eyes.

"Why you give Lèla these?" she asked, lifting the beads and running them through her slender brown fingers.

"Because it's time to up-anchor and sail for home."

"You go away—right away?" Her lips were trembling as she said the words, her young bosom rising and falling swiftly.

"Sure," answered the boy, idly turning the pages of the book on the table. Had he chanced to glance up he could not have mistaken the emotion which his words had caused. "We've got together nearly two thousand virgin pearls—some of 'em whoppers, too! And we've more nacre-shell than we can stow on board. It only remains to fill our water-tanks, escort you back to your father, and we'll be ready for