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“I am only a Tongan,” he said, deprecatorily, shame halting his tongue, “and I live yonder where you see that nameless-animal rooting in the slough–though to God a Tongan is every bit as good as a Samoan, and the only chiefs are those who are strong in faith.”

Evanitalina hastened to agree with him, though she was very disappointed just the same, for he was so handsome, and had such pleasant manners, and an air so noble and winning that she had never doubted he was of rank. She herself was of the exalted I’i family, of Safotulafai, and her grandfather was Tu’imaleali’ifano, and her great-grandfather had been Tu-ia’ana. Yet as she went on, the memory of O’olo stayed with her like the scent of frangipani, and for all he was a Tongan and without land or position, she felt a great tenderness for him; and taking the crimson flower she pressed it to her bosom, trembling with joy as she did so, and saying to herself: “I love thee, I love thee, I love thee!”

The next day they met again, and the next after that, and soon the village gossips were all of a chatter, though not a word of it reached the Reverend Samuelu nor his wife. But if Evanitalina dared not tell her parents of O’olo, in her conduct at least she was as good as gold, and every time she held a tryst with her sweetheart, she took her little brother with her as convention demands; and Polo, bribed with sugar cane, sucked and chewed at the pieces O’olo peeled for him, his shaven head untroubled by the woes of his elders. They, alas, were very wretched, for O’olo had saved up two dollars, which was what to get married costs, and was urging Evanitalina to run away with him to Atua; while she, with superior wisdom called his proposal that of a delirious person, for how were they to live afterwards except slavelike on the bounty of others? When he answered they could return to Siosi and the swamp, her lip curled scornfully, and she reminded him she was of the renowned I’i family, accustomed to dignity and ease, to whom the settlement of out-islanders was hardly better than a wallow of nameless-animals.

Now, however true this might be, it was hurtful to O’olo’s pride, and he was often goaded into sharp retorts which invited others even sharper, so that their passion might be compared to a mountain, up one side of which they climbed in joy and gladness, to descend on the other in alienation. Not that they loved each other any less; that, indeed, was the most cruel part of it; and when at last they separated it was with breaking hearts.

The days that followed were heavy with sorrow, for each strove ardently to pain the other, and with every stab thus inflicted there were two wounds, one in the giver and one in the stricken person. O’olo spent his two dollars in riot and debauchery, and when released from prison fell into greater evil, so that his communion-ticket was withdrawn, and those who missed taro, or chickens, or run-wild daughters used to say darkeningly: “Lo, it is that Taufusi Tongan,” and sought to waylay him with an ax.

Evanitalina, in her turn, encouraged the wooing of Viliamu, a highly-connected young man, whose father was a Member of Parliament, and who earned a dollar and a half a day in the explosion-water manufactory. In this profession he was wondrous skilful, and could be seen daily under a shed, directing the apparatus, and giving orders to his helpers like a white man. A bottle of explosion-water held no more than half a coconut, yet it was sold for ten cents, and it was a perplexity that anybody liked it, for it shot up your nose like the rush of a bat, and made you choke and sneeze, as Evanitalina discovered when once Viliamu brought her some. But it was a fine thing to be able to make it, and earn a dollar and a half a day, and dress magnificently, and give costly presents; and though Evanitalina did not love Viliamu she admired him, and accepted his gifts, and thought wickedly how it must afflict O’olo to see her and Viliamu seated on the same mat, or with their heads side by side on the same bamboo pillow.