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〃Did you ever hear of Lucy Mokunui？〃 he asked。
〃Lucy Mokunui？〃 I repeated； haunted by some familiar association。 I
shook my head。 〃It seems to me I've heard the name； but I've
forgotten it。〃
〃Never heard of Lucy Mokunui！ The Hawaiian nightingale！ I beg your
pardon。 Of course you are a malahini； ｛1｝ and could not be expected
to know。 Well； Lucy Mokunui was the best beloved of Honoluluof
all Hawaii； for that matter。〃
〃You say WAS；〃 I interrupted。
〃And I mean it。 She is finished。〃 He shrugged his shoulders
pityingly。 〃A dozen haolesI beg your pardon； white menhave lost
their hearts to her at one time or another。 And I'm not counting in
the ruck。 The dozen I refer to were haoles of position and
prominence。〃
〃She could have married the son of the Chief Justice if she'd wanted
to。 You think she's beautiful； eh？ But you should hear her sing。
Finest native woman singer in Hawaii Nei。 Her throat is pure silver
and melted sunshine。 We adored her。 She toured America first with
the Royal Hawaiian Band。 After that she made two more trips on her
ownconcert work。〃
〃Oh！〃 I cried。 〃I remember now。 I heard her two years ago at the
Boston Symphony。 So that is she。 I recognize her now。〃
I was oppressed by a heavy sadness。 Life was a futile thing at
best。 A short two years and this magnificent creature； at the
summit of her magnificent success； was one of the leper squad
awaiting deportation to Molokai。 Henley's lines came into my mind：…
〃The poor old tramp explains his poor old ulcers；
Life is； I think； a blunder and a shame。〃
I recoiled from my own future。 If this awful fate fell to Lucy
Mokunui； what might my lot not be？or anybody's lot？ I was
thoroughly aware that in life we are in the midst of deathbut to
be in the midst of living death； to die and not be dead； to be one
of that draft of creatures that once were men； aye； and women； like
Lucy Mokunui； the epitome of all Polynesian charms； an artist as
well； and well beloved of men …。 I am afraid I must have betrayed
my perturbation； for Doctor Georges hastened to assure me that they
were very happy down in the settlement。
It was all too inconceivably monstrous。 I could not bear to look at
her。 A short distance away； behind a stretched rope guarded by a
policeman； were the lepers' relatives and friends。 They were not
allowed to come near。 There were no last embraces； no kisses of
farewell。 They called back and forth to one anotherlast messages；
last words of love； last reiterated instructions。 And those behind
the rope looked with terrible intensity。 It was the last time they
would behold the faces of their loved ones； for they were the living
dead； being carted away in the funeral ship to the graveyard of
Molokai。
Doctor Georges gave the command； and the unhappy wretches dragged
themselves to their feet and under their burdens of luggage began to
stagger across the lighter and aboard the steamer。 It was the
funeral procession。 At once the wailing started from those behind
the rope。 It was blood…curdling； it was heart…rending。 I never
heard such woe； and I hope never to again。 Kersdale and McVeigh
were still at the other end of the wharf； talking earnestly
politics； of course； for both were head…over…heels in that
particular game。 When Lucy Mokunui passed me； I stole a look at
her。 She WAS beautiful。 She was beautiful by our standards； as
wellone of those rare blossoms that occur but once in generations。
And she； of all women； was doomed to Molokai。 She straight on
board； and aft on the open deck where the lepers huddled by the
rail； wailing now； to their dear ones on shore。
The lines were cast off； and the Noeau began to move away from the
wharf。 The wailing increased。 Such grief and despair！ I was just
resolving that never again would I be a witness to the sailing of
the Noeau； when McVeigh and Kersdale returned。 The latter's eyes
were sparkling； and his lips could not quite hide the smile of
delight that was his。 Evidently the politics they had talked had
been satisfactory。 The rope had been flung aside； and the lamenting
relatives now crowded the stringer piece on either side of us。
〃That's her mother；〃 Doctor Georges whispered； indicating an old
woman next to me； who was rocking back and forth and gazing at the
steamer rail out of tear…blinded eyes。 I noticed that Lucy Mokunui
was also wailing。 She stopped abruptly and gazed at Kersdale。 Then
she stretched forth her arms in that adorable； sensuous way that
Olga Nethersole has of embracing an audience。 And with arms
outspread； she cried：
〃Good…bye； Jack！ Good…bye！〃
He heard the cry； and looked。 Never was a man overtaken by more
crushing fear。 He reeled on the stringer piece； his face went white
to the roots of his hair； and he seemed to shrink and wither away
inside his clothes。 He threw up his hands and groaned； 〃My God！ My
God！〃 Then he controlled himself by a great effort。
〃Good…bye； Lucy！ Good…bye！〃 he called。
And he stood there on the wharf； waving his hands to her till the
Noeau was clear away and the faces lining her after…rail were vague
and indistinct。
〃I thought you knew；〃 said McVeigh； who had been regarding him
curiously。 〃You； of all men； should have known。 I thought that was
why you were here。〃
〃I know now；〃 Kersdale answered with immense gravity。 〃Where's the
carriage？〃
He walked rapidlyhalf…ranto it。 I had to half…run myself to
keep up with him。
〃Drive to Doctor Hervey's；〃 he told the driver。 〃Drive as fast as
you can。〃
He sank down in a seat； panting and gasping。 The pallor of his face
had increased。 His lips were compressed and the sweat was standing
out on his forehead and upper lip。 He seemed in some horrible
agony。
〃For God's sake； Martin； make those horses go！〃 he broke out
suddenly。 〃Lay the whip into them！do you hear？lay the whip into
them！〃
〃They'll break； sir；〃 the driver remonstrated。
〃Let them break；〃 Kersdale answered。 〃I'll pay your fine and square
you with the police。 Put it to them。 That's right。 Faster！
Faster！〃
〃And I never knew； I never knew；〃 he muttered； sinking back in the
seat and with trembling hands wiping the sweat away。
The carriage was bouncing； swaying and lurching around corners at
such a wild pace as to make conversation impossible。 Besides； there
was nothing to say。 But I could hear him muttering over and over；
〃And I never knew。 I never knew。〃
ALOHA OE
Never are there such departures as from the dock at Honolulu。 The
great transport lay with steam up； ready to pull out。 A thousand
persons were on her decks； five thousand stood on the wharf。 Up and
down the long gangway passed native princes and princesses； sugar
kings and the high officials of the Territory。 Beyond； in long
lines； kept in order by the native police； were the carriages and
motor…cars of the Honolulu aristocracy。 On the wharf the Royal
Hawaiian Band played 〃Aloha Oe；〃 and when it finished； a stringed
orchestra of native musicians on board the transport took up the
same sobbing strains； the native woman singer's voice rising
birdlike above the instruments and the hubbub of departure。 It was
a silver reed； sounding its clear； unmistakable note in the great
diapason of farewell。
Forward； on the lower deck； the rail was lined six deep with khaki…
clad young boys； whose bronzed faces told of three years'
campaigning under the sun。 But the farewell was not for them。 Nor
was it for the white…clad captain on the lofty bridge； remote as the
stars； gazing down upon the tumult beneath him。 Nor was the
farewell for the young officers farther aft； returning from the
Philippines； nor for the white…faced； climate…ravaged women by their
sides。 Just aft the gangway； on the promenade deck； stood a score
of United States Senators with their wives and daughtersthe
Senatorial junketing party that for a month had been dined and
wined； surfeited with statistics and dragged up volcanic hill and
down lava dale to behold the glories and resources of Hawaii。 It
was for the junketing party that the transport had called in at
Honolulu； and it was to the junketing party that Honolulu was saying
good…bye。
The Senators were garlanded and bedecked with flowers。 Senator
Jeremy Sambrooke's stout neck and portly bosom were burdened with a
dozen wreaths。 Out of this mass of bloom and blossom projected his
head and the greater portion of his freshly sunburned and perspiring
face。 He thought the flowers an abomination； and as he looked out
over the multitude on the wharf it was with a statistical eye that
saw none of the beauty； but that peered into the labour power； the
factories； the r