IV

It was long before Rezanov slept that night. The
usual chill had come in from the Pacific as the sun
went down, and the distinguished visitor had inti-
mated to his hosts that he should like to exercise
on shore until ready for his detested quarters; but
Arguello dared not, in the absence of his father, in-
vite the foreigner even to sleep in the house so
lavishly offered in the morning; although he had
sent such an abundance of provisions to the ship
that the poor sailors were deep in sleep, gorged like
boa-constrictors; and he could safely promise that
while the Juno remained in port her larder should
never be empty. He shared the evening bowl of
punch in the cabin, then went his way lamenting
that he could not take his new friends with him.

Rezanov paced the little deck of the Juno to keep
his blood in stir. There was no moon. The islands
and promontories on the great sheet of water were
black save for the occasional glow of an Indian
camp-fire. There was not a sound but the lapping
of the waves, the roar of distant breakers. The
great silver stars and the little green stars looked
down upon a solitude that was almost primeval, yet
mysteriously disturbed by the restless currents in
the brain of a man who had little in common with
primal forces.