The handful of whites have everything; the natives walk in a foreign town.

A year ago, on a knoll behind a bar-room, he might have observed a native house guarded by sentries and flown over by the standard of Samoa.

He would then have been told it was the seat of government, driven (as I have to relate) over the Mulivai and from beyond the German town into the Anglo-Saxon.

To-day, he will learn it has been carted back again to its old quarters.

And he will think it significant that the king of the islands should be thus shuttled to and fro in his chief city at the nod of aliens.