But Phil’s gallantry was to receive its reward. A third graceful Kapuan girl, her high caste face beaming upon them, glided through the tapa screen. Bowing low before Commander Tazewell, she took the vacant place at Phil’s side. Commander Tazewell made a jesting remark in Kapuan, which caused every one to laugh except the two midshipmen. “This is Tuamana’s daughter Avao,” the commander said. “I told her she’d have a difficult time making a choice between my two handsome aides; but I see she has made up her mind already.” Avao had taken the fan from Phil’s hand and was now efficiently fanning him. A half hour later as they were standing, bidding good-bye to their hosts, Commander Tazewell announced to Phil that the chief’s daughter had paid him a signal honor. “She wants you to be her felinge,”[6] he said, his grave eyes sparkling. “It’s a Tapau’s[7] privilege to choose. Your obligation is to present her with soap, tooth powder, in fact, anything she fancies that you can get in the ship’s store. For this you are privileged to drink as many cocoanuts and eat as much fruit as you desire at her father’s house. She will even send you presents of fruit, tapa and fans. If I were Mr. Monroe, I’d envy you your luck, for Avao is the belle of Ukula.” Avao blushed under her bronze and playfully struck the commander with her fan. “Leonga Alii!”[8] she exclaimed abashed. “She understands and speaks English as well as I do,” he said, laughing at the girl’s sudden shyness. “Once I thought she’d make me her felinge, but I suppose youth takes rank.” Once more on the road Commander Tazewell became again serious. “That affair yesterday is taking on a darker aspect,” he confided. “Tuamana says that every one knows among the natives that if Judge Lindsay decides for Panu-Mafili then Kataafa has been persuaded by the Herzovinians to make war. “Tuamana, of course,” he added, “is a loyal man. He is on Panu’s side, but will be loyal to whom Judge Lindsay decides is really the king.” In front of the big wooden store in the Matafeli district of the town, Commander Tazewell stopped. Many natives were gathered there. The porch was crowded, while within the store there seemed to be only standing room. “What mischief is going on here?” he exclaimed, a perplexed frown on his face. Suddenly Klinger and the stranger of yesterday darkened the doorway. The stranger gazed coldly upon the Americans but gave no sign of recognition. He and Klinger continued to talk in their guttural Herzovinian tongues. Phil suddenly observed that the air of friendliness they had noted earlier was now lacking. The natives no longer greeted them. Instead in the native eye was a sheepish, sullen look. “That was Count Rosen,” Commander Tazewell said as they again moved onward. “Klinger, of course, is active and sides with Kataafa. Klinger’s wife is a native, you know, a close relative of the high chief. I suppose he’d like to have royalty in the family.”