It was at this time that both the OROHENA and theHira， running in close to the shore， began firing guns andsignalling frantically. The three men stepped outside intime to see the two schooners go hastily about and headoff shore， dropping mainsails and flying jibs on the run inthe teeth of the squall that heeled them far over on thewhitened water. Then the rain blotted them out.
“They’ll be back after it’s over，” said Toriki. “We’d betterbe getting out of here.”
“I reckon the glass has fallen some more，” said CaptainLynch.
He was a white-bearded sea-captain， too old for service，who had learned that the only way to live on comfortableterms with his asthma was on Hikueru. He went inside tolook at the barometer.
“Great God！” they heard him exclaim， and rushed in tojoin him at staring at a dial， which marked twenty-ninetwenty.
Again they came out， this time anxiously to consultsea and sky. The squall had cleared away， but the skyremained overcast. The two schooners， under all sail andjoined by a third， could be seen making back. A veer in thewind induced them to slack off sheets， and five minutesafterward a sudden veer from the opposite quarter caughtall three schooners aback， and those on shore couldsee the boom-tackles being slacked away or cast off onthe jump. The sound of the surf was loud， hollow， andmenacing， and a heavy swell was setting in. A terrible sheetof lightning burst before their eyes， illuminating the darkday， and the thunder rolled wildly about them.
Toriki and Levy broke into a run for their boats， thelatter ambling along like a panic-stricken hippopotamus.
As their two boats swept out the entrance， they passedthe boat of the Aorai coming in. In the stern sheets，encouraging the rowers， was Raoul. Unable to shake thevision of the pearl from his mind， he was returning toaccept Mapuhi’s price of a house.
He landed on the beach in the midst of a driving thundersquall that was so dense that he collided with Huru-Hurubefore he saw him.
“Too late，” yelled Huru-Huru. “Mapuhi sold it to Torikifor fourteen hundred Chili， and Toriki sold it to Levy fortwenty-five thousand francs. And Levy will sell it in Francefor a hundred thousand francs. Have you any tobacco？”
Raoul felt relieved. His troubles about the pearl wereover. He need not worry any more， even if he had notgot the pearl. But he did not believe Huru-Huru. Mapuhimight well have sold it for fourteen hundred Chili， butthat Levy， who knew pearls， should have paid twenty-fivethousand francs was too wide a stretch. Raoul decidedto interview Captain Lynch on the subject， but when hearrived at that ancient mariner’s house， he found himlooking wide-eyed at the barometer.
“What do you read it？” Captain Lynch asked anxiously，rubbing his spectables and staring again at the instrument.
“Twenty-nine-ten，” said Raoul. “I have never seen it solow before.”
“I should say not！” snorted the captain. “Fifty years boyand man on all the seas， and I’ve never seen it go down tothat. Listen！”
They stood for a moment， while the surf rumbled andshook the house. Then they went outside. The squall hadpassed. They could see the Aorai lying becalmed a mileaway and pitching and tossing madly in the tremendousseas that rolled in stately procession down out of thenortheast and flung themselves furiously upon the coralshore. One of the sailors from the boat pointed at themouth of the passage and shook his head. Raoul lookedand saw a white anarchy of foam and surge.
“I guess I’ll stay with you tonight， Captain，” he said；then turned to the sailor and told him to haul the boat outand to find shelter for himself and fellows.
“Twenty-nine flat，” Captain Lynch reported， coming outfrom another look at the barometer， a chair in his hand.
He sat down and stared at the spectacle of the sea. Thesun came out， increasing the sultriness of the day， whilethe dead calm still held. The seas continued to increase inmagnitude.
“What makes that sea is what gets me，” Raoul mutteredpetulantly.
“There is no wind， yet look at it， look at that fellowthere！”
Miles in length， carrying tens of thousands of tons inweight， its impact shook the frail atoll like an earthquake.
Captain Lynch was startled.
“Gracious！” he bellowed， half rising from his chair， thensinking back.
“But there is no wind，” Raoul persisted. “I couldunderstand it if there was wind along with it.”
“You’ll get the wind soon enough without worryin’ forit，” was the grim reply.
The two men sat on in silence. The sweat stood outon their skin in myriads of tiny drops that ran together，forming blotches of moisture， which， in turn， coalescedinto rivulets that dripped to the ground. They panted forbreath， the old man’s efforts being especially painful. Asea swept up the beach， licking around the trunks of thecocoanuts and subsiding almost at their feet.
“Way past high water mark，” Captain Lynch remarked；“and I’ve been here eleven years.” He looked at his watch.
“It is three o’clock.”
A man and woman， at their heels a motley followingof brats and curs， trailed disconsolately by. They cameto a halt beyond the house， and， after much irresolution，sat down in the sand. A few minutes later another familytrailed in from the opposite direction， the men and womencarrying a heterogeneous assortment of possessions. Andsoon several hundred persons of all ages and sexes werecongregated about the captain’s dwelling. He called to onenew arrival， a woman with a nursing babe in her arms， andin answer received the information that her house had justbeen swept into the lagoon.
This was the highest spot of land in miles， and already，in many places on either hand， the great seas were makinga clean breach of the slender ring of the atoll and surginginto the lagoon. Twenty miles around stretched the ringof the atoll， and in no place was it more than fifty fathomswide. It was the height of the diving season， and from allthe islands around， even as far as Tahiti， the natives hadgathered.
