“Look,” Alice cried out joyfully; “the sailors are coming to her rescue.” Phil saw a mass of white suddenly encircle the cringing dancers and then face outward toward the crowd. He recognized O’Neil as their leader, and wondered what would happen next. Klinger was talking excitedly to the count. The latter had ceased to smile. A dark frown was in his face. Then Phil noticed him raise his hand to quell the disturbance. A loud voice of a chief at his side warned all to silence. Slowly the babel died away. CHAPTER XV THE “DE FACTO” GOVERNMENT “Bring the girl to me,” the count commanded. The angry natives made way for the proud Tapau as she advanced toward the governor. Phil read in their savage glances that this brave girl, if she were left to their mercy, was in great danger. In front of the count and Commander Tazewell, Avao stopped. Her eyes were cast down, but she held her head high; then making a low bow she bent her knee in sign of submission. “Will you not sing for King Kataafa?” the count asked kindly. Phil listened eagerly for her answer. The tumult about them was hushed. “Alii,” Avao answered, “I have sung for the king of Kapua. Panu-Mafili has been declared our king by the chief justice.” Count Rosen’s face paled, and he bit his lips to suppress his great annoyance and mortification. Klinger’s rough voice behind him was distinctly audible. “Throw her out. We can get another Tapau leader.” “Will you not sing Kataafa’s praise?” the count asked, not heeding Klinger’s interruption. Avao gave her answer readily and distinctly. “I will lead the song for Kataafa as a great chief, loved and honored by his people.” “Don’t bother with the cantankerous girl,” Klinger recommended brutally. Commander Tazewell recognized the awkwardness of the situation. His admiration was for the girl who had drawn down upon her head the anger of most of her own race. Her loyalty to her father, Tuamana, and the rightful king could not be shaken. He turned to the count, a smile on his face. “We are all greatly indebted,” he said, “for this delightful evening. I thank you for myself, officers and men.” Then after wringing the count’s hand, he turned gallantly to the silent Tapau. “Will you take my arm?” he said. To the surprise of everybody and the chagrin of the governor and Klinger, Avao passed her arm through the American commander’s and together they marched determinedly toward the gate. Phil, Sydney, and Alice fell in behind, while the sailors, seeing that the other dancers were not to be menaced by the crowd, the entire blame being placed on the shoulders of their leader, the Tapau, quietly dispersed, and withdrew from the grounds. Having gained the road, Commander Tazewell relinquished his charge into Alice’s keeping. “You must come home with me,” the young girl declared. “Oh, Avao! I could hug you, if it weren’t for all that smelly oil you have rubbed on yourself.” The midshipmen joined in praise of the heroine.