Guy was speechless at the bold suggestion. He expected Fernay Corday to rise in his wrath and slay his loathsome guest on the spot, but the effect of the words was far different from his anticipation. Fernay Corday straightened up in his chair "and blinked his eyes several times, as though by so doing he could sober somewhat. Finally he spoke.
"Did you say gallons or quarts?" he asked.
"I said gallons," responded Jolly Cauldron. "You see there is nothing close about me. When I purchase jewels I am quite agreeable to offer a fortune in exchange."
Fernay Corday hesitated for a moment only, then he said craftily, "Make it twelve gallons."
Jolly Cauldron laughed shortly. "Twelve it is, then," he agreed.
In this simple fashion was the sale of Kum-Kum consummated. Jolly Cauldron intended to marry her legally, it is true, but nevertheless the affair was one of the most despicable barter. To pass judgment on the action of Fernay Corday one would have to be intimately acquainted with South Sea standards. There the art of love is looked upon as being as natural as a Gauguin painting. Gauguin himself was rather promiscuous in his wooings. The average Marquesan is an ephemeral lover. His amours are seldom lasting. When a couple have married and later parted it is looked upon philosophically. There is little weeping. Sorrows seldom last throughout a day. Morality is measured by an extremely flexible standard.
Although Fernay Corday was guilty of a questionable act in selling Kum-Kum, there is one thing to be said in his favor. He had a genuine liking for Jolly Cauldron. He considered him an excellent mate for Kum-Kum. According to his views, as a lover Jolly Cauldron left nothing to be desired. He was pleased with the outcome of their meeting. When he thought of the twelve gallons of good Scotch he was doubly pleased.
That night Guy went to his room immediately after dinner. He wished to be alone. His mind was a surging, restless flood. The thought of Jolly Cauldron possessing Kum-Kum nauseated him. All the primitive passions of earth were gripping his soul. If only Kum-Kum had understood English he could have discussed the matter with her. One thing was certain. She must escape from such slavery, even though it was called marriage.
He paced up and down the room as he always did when he was greatly distressed. He felt as though his brain were afire, as though his mind were consumed by the heat of his fury. In the end he decided that he would steal Kum-Kum. Jolly Cauldron had purchased Kum-Kum from Fernay Corday. Now he would steal her from Jolly Cauldron. He decided that he would make off with her in the dead of the night. They would leave the island in one of her father's canoes.
As a solution loomed up before him, his anger abated somewhat. He walked to the open window. The breeze struck warmly, drowsily against his face. A yellow-golden moon hung low in the sky like an enormous Chinese lantern. Its soft-toned radiance quite dwarfed the few lamps which hung from spikes driven into the palms. Soft music, haunting, wistful, sad, floated upon the air.
Fernay Corday reclined at full length in a hammock. His hands hung listlessly over the sides as though he were stupefied with kava. He was a great misshapen shadow rendering discordant the sweet notes of the music. As usual Jolly Cauldron crouched ape-like in the sand, as immobile as a carved Buddha. And Kum-Kum danced. Her slim loveliness wove a
