Laupepa had fallen in ill-blood with one of them; his only idea of defence had been to throw himself in the arms of another; his name, his rank, and his great following had not been able to preserve him; and he had vanished from the eyes of men--as the Samoan thinks of it, beyond the sky.

Asi, Maunga, Tuiletu-funga, had followed him in that new path of doom.

We have seen how carefully Mataafa still walked, how he dared not set foot on the neutral territory till assured it was no longer sacred, how he withdrew from it again as soon as its sacredness had been restored, and at the bare word of a consul (however gilded with ambiguous promises) paused in his course of victory and left his rival unassailed in Mulinuu.

And now it was the rival's turn.
Hitherto happy in the continued support of one of the white Powers, he now found himself--or thought himself--threatened with war by no less than two others.
Tamasese boats as they passed Matautu were in the habit of firing on the shore, as like as not without particular aim, and more in high spirits than hostility.

One of these shots pierced the house of a British subject near the consulate; the consul reported to Admiral Fairfax; and, on the morning of the 10th, the admiral despatched Captain Kane of the _Calliope_ to Mulinuu.