The night was very dark. There was service in the church, and the building glimmered through all its crevices like a dim Kirk Allowa’. I saw few other lights, but was indistinctly aware of many people stirring in the darkness, and a hum and sputter of low talk that sounded stealthy. I believe (in the old phrase) my beard was sometimes on my shoulder as I went. Muller’s was but partly lighted, and quite silent, and the gate was fastened. I could by no means manage to undo the latch. No wonder, since I found it afterwards to be four or five feet long – a fortification in itself. As I still fumbled, a dog came on the inside and sniffed suspiciously at my hands, so that I was reduced to calling ‘House ahoy!’ Mr. Muller came down and put his chin across the paling in the dark. ‘Who is that?’ said he, like one who has no mind to welcome strangers.
‘My name is Stevenson,’ said I.
‘O, Mr. Stevens! I didn’t know you. Come inside.’ We stepped into the dark store, when I leaned upon the counter and he against the wall. All the light came from the sleeping-room, where I saw his family being put to bed; it struck full in my face, but Mr. Muller stood in shadow. No doubt he expected what was Coming, and sought the advantage of position; but for a man who wished to persuade and had nothing to conceal, mine was the preferable.
‘Look here,’ I began, ‘I hear you are selling to the natives.’
‘Others have done that before me,’ he returned pointedly.
‘No doubt,’ said I, ‘and I have nothing to do with the past, but the future. I want you to promise you will handle these spirits carefully.’
‘Now what is your motive in this?’ he asked, and then, with a sneer, ‘Are you afraid of your life?’
‘That is nothing to the purpose,’ I replied. ‘I know, and you know, these spirits ought not to be used at all.’
‘Tom and Mr. Rick have sold them before.’
‘I have nothing to do with Tom and Mr. Rick. All I know is I have heard them both refuse.’
‘No, I suppose you have nothing to do with them. Then you are just afraid of your life.’
‘Come now,’ I cried, being perhaps a little stung, ‘you know in your heart I am asking a reasonable thing. I don’t ask you to lose your profit – though I would prefer to see no spirits brought here, as you would – ‘
‘I don’t say I wouldn’t. I didn’t begin this,’ he interjected.
‘No, I don’t suppose you did,’ said I. ‘And I don’t ask you to lose; I ask you to give me your word, man to man, that you will make no native drunk.’
Up to now Mr. Muller had maintained an attitude very trying to my temper; but he had maintained it with difficulty, his sentiment being all upon my side; and here he changed ground for the worse. ‘It isn’t me that sells,’ said he.
‘No, it’s that nigger,’ I agreed. ‘But he’s yours to buy and sell; you have your hand on the nape of his neck; and I ask you – I have my wife here – to use the authority you have.’
He hastily returned to his old ward. ‘I don’t deny I could if I wanted,’ said he. ‘But there’s no danger, the natives are all quiet. You’re just afraid of your life.’
I do not like to be called a coward, even by implication; and here I lost my temper and propounded an untimely ultimatum. ‘You had better put it plain,’ I cried. ‘Do you mean to refuse me what I ask?’
‘I don’t want either to refuse it or grant it,’ he replied.
‘You’ll find you have to do the one thing or the other, and right now!’ I cried, and then, striking into a happier vein, ‘Come,’ said I, ‘you’re a better sort than that. I see what’s wrong with you – you think I came from the opposite camp. I see the sort of man you are, and you know that what I ask is right.’
Again he changed ground. ‘If the natives get any drink, it isn’t safe to stop them,’ he objected.
‘I’ll be answerable for the bar,’ I said. ‘We are three men and four revolvers; we’ll come at a word, and hold the place against the village.’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about; it’s too dangerous!’ he cried.
‘Look here,’ said I, ‘I don’t mind much about losing that life you talk so much of; but I mean to lose it the way I want to, and that is, putting a stop to all this beastliness.’
He talked a while about his duty to the firm; I minded not at all, I was secure of victory. He was but waiting to capitulate, and looked about for any potent to relieve the strain. In the gush of light from the bedroom door I spied a cigar-holder on the desk. ‘That is well coloured,’ said I.
‘Will you take a cigar?’ said he.
I took it and held it up unlighted. ‘Now,’ said I, ‘you promise me.’
‘I promise you you won’t have any trouble from natives that have drunk at my place,’ he replied.
‘That is all I ask,’ said I, and showed it was not by immediately offering to try his stock.
So far as it was anyway critical our interview here ended. Mr. Muller had thenceforth ceased to regard me as an emissary from his rivals, dropped his defensive attitude, and spoke as he believed. I could make out that he would already, had he dared, have stopped the sale himself. Not quite daring, it may be imagined how he resented the idea of interference from those who had (by his own statement) first led him on, then deserted him in the breach, and now (sitting themselves in safety) egged him on to a new peril, which was all gain to them, all loss to him! I asked him what he thought of the danger from the feast.
‘I think worse of it than any of you,’ he answered. ‘They were shooting around here last night, and I heard the balls too. I said to myself, “That’s bad.” What gets me is why you should be making this row up at your end. I should be the first to go.’
It was a thoughtless wonder. The consolation of being second is not great; the fact, not the order of going – there was our concern.
Scott talks moderately of looking forward to a time of fighting ‘with a feeling that resembled pleasure.’ The resemblance seems rather an identity. In modern life, contact is ended; man grows impatient of endless manoeuvres; and to approach the fact, to find ourselves where we can push an advantage home, and stand a fair risk, and see at last what we are made of, stirs the blood. It was so at least with all my family, who bubbled with delight at the approach of trouble; and we sat deep into the night like a pack of schoolboys, preparing the revolvers and arranging plans against the morrow. It promised certainly to be a busy and eventful day. The Old Men were to be summoned to confront me on the question of the tapu; Muller might call us at any moment to garrison his bar; and suppose Muller to fail, we decided in a family council to take that matter into our own hands, The Land We Live In at the pistol’s mouth, and with the polysyllabic Williams, dance to a new tune. As I recall our humour I think it would have gone hard with the mulatto.
Wednesday, July 24. – It was as well, and yet it was disappointing that these thunder-clouds rolled off in silence. Whether the Old Men recoiled from an interview with Queen Victoria’s son, whether Muller had secretly intervened, or whether the step flowed naturally from the fears of the king and the nearness of the feast, the tapu was early that morning re-enforced; not a day too soon, from the manner the boats began to arrive thickly, and the town was filled with the big rowdy vassals of Karaiti.
The effect lingered for some time on the minds of the traders; it was with the approval of all present that I helped to draw up a petition to the United States, praying for a law against the liquor trade in the Gilberts; and it was at this request that I added, under my own name, a brief testimony of what had passed; – useless pains; since the whole reposes, probably unread and possibly unopened, in a pigeon-hole at Washington.
Sunday, July 28. – This day we had the afterpiece of the debauch. The king and queen, in European clothes, and followed by armed guards, attended church for the first time, and sat perched aloft in a precarious dignity under the barrel-hoops. Before sermon his majesty clambered from the dais, stood lopsidedly upon the gravel floor, and in a few words abjured drinking. The queen followed suit with a yet briefer allocution. All the men in church were next addressed in turn; each held up his right hand, and the affair was over – throne and church were reconciled.