"Yes," cried one, "something to eat." Upon this he promised to send us
some fresh wheat bread, of his own baking; a great luxury in Tahiti.

We all felicitated Pat upon picking up such a friend, and told him his
fortune was made.

The next morning, a French servant of the priest's made his appearance
with a small bundle of clothing for our young Hibernian; and the
promised bread for the party. Pat being out at the knees and elbows,
and, like the rest of us, not full inside, the present was acceptable
all round.

In the afternoon, Father Murphy himself came along; and, in addition
to his previous gifts, gave Pat a good deal of advice: said he was
sorry to see him in limbo, and that he would have a talk with the
consul about having him set free.

We saw nothing more of him for two or three days; at the end of which
time he paid us another call, telling Pat that Wilson was inexorable,
having refused to set him at liberty, unless to go aboard the ship.
This, the priest now besought him to do forthwith; and so escape the
punishment which, it seems, Wilson had been hinting at to his
intercessor. Pat, however, was staunch against entreaties; and, with
all the ardour of a sophomorean sailor, protested his intention to
hold out to the last. With none of the meekness of a good little boy
about him, the blunt youngster stormed away at such a rate that it
was hard to pacify him; and the priest said no more.

How it came to pass--whether from Murphy's speaking to the consul, or