Then she talked to them respecting what she had already told to Kanoa, telling them also that the men of Karolin were not enemies but friends, that Rantan and the red-bearded man though fair-spoken were indeed devils in disguise, that they had killed many of the men of Karolin, killed Sru and his companions and intended on the morrow to kill Kanoa and the rest. And they sat listening to her as children listen to the tales about ogres—believing, bewildered, terrified, not knowing what to do.
These men were not cowards; under circumstances known and understood they were brave, weather could not frighten them nor war against kindred races, but the white man was a different thing and Rantan they feared even more than Carlin.
They would not move a hand in this matter of striking at them. It would be better to take the boat and land on the reef and trust to the men of Karolin if they were trustworthy as Le Moan had reported.
Poni, the biggest and strongest of them, said this and the others nodded their heads in approval, and Le Moan laughed; she knew them and told them so, told them that as she had saved them by overhearing Rantan’s plans, she would save them now, that they had nothing to do but wait and watch and prepare their minds for friendship with her people when she had finished what she intended to do.
Then she rose up.
As she stood with the moonlight full on her, a voice broke the silence of the night. It came from the saloon hatchway, a voice sudden, chattering2, complaining and ceasing all at once as if cut off by a closed door. They knew what it was, the voice of a man talking in his sleep. Carlin on his back and seized by nightmare had cried out, half awakened3, turned and fallen asleep again.
The group seated on the deck, after a momentary4 movement, resumed their positions. There is something so distinctive5 in the voice of a sleep-talker that the sound, after the first momentary flutter caused by it, brought assurance. Then, prepared at any moment to make a dash for the boat, they sat, the palms of their hands flat on the deck and their eyes following Le Moan, now gliding6 towards the hatch, the spear head in her left hand, her right hand touching7 the port rail as she went.
At the hatch she paused to listen. She could hear the reef, and on its sonorous8 murmur9 like a tiny silver thread of sound the trickle10 of the tide on the planking of the schooner11, and from the dark pit of the stairway leading to the saloon another sound, the breathing of men asleep.
She had never been below. That stairway, even in daylight, had always filled her with fear, the fear of the unknown, the dread12 of a trap, the claustrophobia of one always used to open spaces.
Lit by the day it frightened her, in its black darkness it appalled13 her; yet she had to go down, for the life of Taori lay at the bottom of that pit to be saved by her hands and hers alone.
Kanoa, amongst the others, sat watching. The mind of Kanoa so filled with fear when she told him that his death was imminent14, the mind of Kanoa that had lusted15 for her, the mind of this child of eighteen to whom light and laughter had been life and thought, a thing of the moment, was no longer the same mind.
The great heroism16 he was watching, this attempt to save him and the others, had awakened in him something perhaps of the past, ancestors who had fought, done great deeds and suffered—who knows—but there came to him an elation17 such as he had felt in the movements of the dance and at the sound of music. Rising and evading18 Poni who clutched at his leg to hold him back, he came to the rail, stood for a moment as Le Moan vanished from sight and then swift-footed but silent as a shadow, glided19 to the saloon hatch and stood listening.
Holding the polished banister rail, and moving cautiously, step by step, Le Moan descended20, the spear head in her left hand. As she came, a waft21 from the cabin rose to meet her in the darkness—an odour of humanity and stale tobacco smoke, bunk22-bedding and bilge.
It met her like an evil ghost, it grappled with her and tried to drive her back; used as she was to the fresh sea air, able to scent23 rain on the wind and change of weather, this odour checked her for a moment, repelled24 her, held her and then lost its power; her will had conquered it. She reached the foot of the stairs and before her now lay the open doorway25 of the cabin, a pale oblong beyond which lay a picture.
The table with the swinging lamp above it, the bunks26 on either side where the sleeping men lay, clothes cast on the floor, all lit by the moon-gleams through the skylight and portholes.
From the bunk on the right hung an arm. It was Carlin’s; she knew it by its size. She moved towards it, paused, looked up and stood rigid27.
Above Carlin, now on the ceiling, now on the wall, something moved and danced; a great silver butterfly, now at rest, now in flight, shifting here and there, poising28 with tremulous wings.
It was a water shimmer29 from the moonlit lagoon30 entering through a porthole, a ghost of light; it held her only for a moment, the next she had seized the hand of the sleeper31 and driven the spear point into the arm. Almost on the cry of the stricken man, something sprang across the table of the cabin, seized Le Moan by the throat and flung her on her side. It was Rantan.
Up above Kanoa, standing32 by the opening of the hatch, listening. The reef spoke1 and the water trickled33 on the planking, but from below there came no sound. Moments passed and then, sharp and cutting the silence like a knife came a cry, a shout, and the sound of a furious struggle. Then, fear flown and filled with a fury new as life to the newborn, Kanoa plunged34 down into the darkness, missed his footing, fell, rose half stunned35 and dashed into the cabin.
Carlin, naked, was lying on his face on the floor, dead or dying; Rantan, naked, was at death grips with Le Moan. She had risen by a supreme36 effort, but he had got her against the table, flung her on it and was now holding her down, his knee on her thigh37, his hands on her throat, his head flung back, the flexor muscles of his forearms rigid, crushing her, breaking her, choking the life out of her, till Kanoa sprang.
Sprang like a tiger, lighting38 on the table and then in a flash on to Rantan’s back, breaking his grip with the impact and freeing Le Moan. He had got the throat hold from behind, his knees had seized Rantan’s body and he was riding him like a horse. The attacked man, whooping39 and choking, tried to hit backwards40, flung up his arms, rose straight, tottered41 and crashed, but still the attacker clung, clung as they rolled on the floor, clung till all movement ceased.
It was over.
The silver butterfly still danced merrily on the ceiling and the sound of the reef came through the skylight, slumbrous and indifferent, but other sound or movement there was none till Le Moan, stretched still on the table, turned, raised herself on her elbow and understood. Then she dropped on to the floor. Rantan lay half on top of Carlin and Kanoa lay by Rantan.
Kanoa’s grip had relaxed and he seemed asleep. He roused as the girl touched him; the fury and wild excitement had passed, he seemed dazed; then recovering himself he sat up, then he rose to his feet. As he rose Rantan moved slightly, he was not dead and Le Moan kneeling on the body of Carlin seized the sheet that was hanging from the bunk, dragged it towards her and handed it to Kanoa.
“Bind him,” said Le Moan, “he is not dead, let him be for my people to deal with him as they deal with the dog-fish.”
As they bound him from the shoulders to the hands a voice came from above. It was the voice of Poni who had come to listen and who heard Le Moan’s voice and words.
“Kanoa,” cried Poni, “what is going on below there?”
“Coward!” cried Le Moan, “come and see. Come and help now that the work is done.”
“Ay,” said Kanoa the valorous, “come and help now that the work is done.”
Then, kneeling by the bound figure of Rantan, he gazed on the girl, consuming her with his eyes, rapturous, and unknowing that the work had been done for Taori.
Taori, beside whom, for Le Moan, all other men were shadows, moving yet lifeless as the moon-born butterfly still dancing above the corpse42 of Carlin.
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1
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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2
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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3
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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4
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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distinctive
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| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
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6
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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7
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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8
sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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9
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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10
trickle
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| vi.淌，滴，流出，慢慢移动，逐渐消散 | |
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11
schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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12
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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13
appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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14
imminent
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| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
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15
lusted
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| 贪求（lust的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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16
heroism
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| n.大无畏精神，英勇 | |
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17
elation
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| n.兴高采烈，洋洋得意 | |
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18
evading
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| 逃避( evade的现在分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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19
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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20
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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21
waft
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| v.飘浮，飘荡；n.一股；一阵微风；飘荡 | |
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22
bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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23
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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24
repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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25
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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26
bunks
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| n.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的名词复数 )；空话，废话v.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的第三人称单数 )；空话，废话 | |
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27
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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28
poising
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| 使平衡( poise的现在分词 )； 保持（某种姿势）； 抓紧； 使稳定 | |
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29
shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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30
lagoon
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| n.泻湖，咸水湖 | |
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31
sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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32
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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33
trickled
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| v.滴( trickle的过去式和过去分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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34
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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35
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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36
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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37
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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38
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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39
whooping
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| 发嗬嗬声的，发咳声的 | |
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40
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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41
tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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42
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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