"Dartmoor, you inhuman devil," I answered with what restraint I could, "would you condemn a civilized young woman to companionship with that brute?" "In the interest of science, yes. My wife will work with me." "She won't come," I answered explosively. "In justice and fairness I shall warn her of what is ahead. She won't come, depend upon it." "She will. I will write her a letter which you can deliver to her." I acceded--I do not know why. I had sworn to drown him in the lagoon before I would lend a hand toward his marrying that girl. I only came back to myself when three days out, homeward bound. I was obeying his orders; yet, as the days went on, I found my will power and determination growing. If I took that girl out, I vowed she would go as my wife. Nothing of the sort happened. When she read his letter she insisted upon going, and her weak old mother fell in line. In vain did I beg and storm. Nothing I could say availed against that letter. I could not recognize Dartmoor's right to that girl over my own, though I was compelled to yield to his greater power. On that run out to sea I did all I could to sway her. I prayed to her and argued with her, representing as strongly as I could her life with a heartless, bloodless scientist and a man-baby--a repulsive, incongruous parody on the human race; but I finally had to give up in despair. As we sailed into the lagoon I observed through the glass the whole colony, Dartmoor, the missionary, and the gang of coolies mustered on the beach. And with them was the baby. They had taught him to walk. Clumsy and huge, he lumbered around among them, and occasionally dropped to all-fours. Even at the distance I could hear his thundering "Da, da da!" "Nice prospect for Ella," I thought gloomily. "Heaven help the poor girl!" I lowered the quarter-boat and sent mother and daughter ashore, for I was determined not to witness Dartmoor's meeting with the girl I loved. Yet the jealous devils in my soul were too strong for my determination. I looked through the glass at Dartmoor assisting Ella ashore, and swore dismally as he took her in his arms, kissed her on the cheek, and turned away from her to the mother. A scream, either from Ella or her mother, interrupted the second greeting, and I shifted my glass. There was the brute baby, with his huge arms around Ella, attempting to follow the example of Dartmoor. The missionary shouted, and the coolies danced around at a safe distance. Dartmoor acted. With a bound he had the brute by the throat and pulled him clear. Then I saw them clench, and at this I dropped the glass and sprang into the dingey. I took only one look behind as I pulled furiously on the oars. They were on the ground in a mad struggle, the brute uppermost. Ella had fainted and her mother was bending over her, while the missionary and the coolies were well up the hill. As I grounded and sprang out with an oar, the brute slowly rose erect, looking at Dartmoor.