'Curious if the guards have been withdrawn on this night of all others,' he mused. 'If I don't encounter our men in another minute, I'll shout and rouse the ship. Better Bigham's wrath than the slaughter which is sure to follow this senseless provocation of a friendly foe.' Fearful of delay and its bitter consequences, he drew in his breath for a shout, when, sudden as a lightning flash, a column of fire shot into the air, illumining the black recesses of the brig. And, as it flared, the quiet night was shaken by an appalling yell, shouts and oaths, the tramp and shuffle of naked feet, the sound of shots and heavy blows, all horribly mixed with screams of rage and hate. 'It is all up!' muttered George, filled with resentment against the stupid mate. 'The rising is none of my doing; but parole or no parole, I can't stand by and see white men done to death by Maori criminals.' He raised his voice to a shout. 'Bigham! Call to me!' No answer! Then out of the gloom a tall figure leaped at him with uplifted arm and smote strongly downwards. George had neither heard nor seen the Maori's approach, though he actually turned at that moment as if to face the threatening danger. The first thing of which he was really conscious was the sound of a blow and the jarring shock which ran from his fingers to his shoulder. Then to his amazement a stalwart Maori fell with a thud and lay dead or badly wounded at his feet. Experience has shown that, during the excitement bred of extreme peril, one may perform many actions by instinct, or, at least, that one's conscious intelligence does not appear to be fully at work. And now so stupefied was George at the sequence of events, that he stood staring down at the body of the Maori without the slightest comprehension of what had happened. The light of the fire flared towards him, illumining the thing he held in his hand. It was a greenstone club--his own; for he could distinctly see the odd markings upon it. How was this? he asked himself. Was it possible that Te Kaihuia's story--Oh, nonsense! ... Still, how came the _mere_ to his hand? He had locked it away in his sea-chest.... He had never thought of it when he rushed on deck at the heels of Bigham.... What could it mean? Thoughts are lightning quick, and but little time passed, as George stood fixed and immovable beside the prostrate Maori, before another tall form loomed suddenly out of the dark, and a familiar voice said in Maori: 'Salutations, O friend! The fight is begun. Let the wise look on while the fools strive with one another.' 'Come and help me stop the conflict,' began George, when Te Karearea, catching sight of the still form, interrupted sternly: 'What is this, Hortoni? Had I not your promise? Wherefore have you slain my young man?'