Both his face and voice were as stern as judgment, but Kokua was too troubled to observe.
"You do well to use your own, my husband," said she, and her words trembled.
"Oh, I do well in all things," said Keawe, and he went straight to the chest and took out money. But he looked besides in the comer where they kept the bottle, and there was no bottle there.
At that the chest heaved upon the floor like a sea-billow, and the house span about him like a wreath of smoke, for he saw she was lost now, and there was no escape. "It is what I feared," he thought. "It is she who has bought it."
And then he came to himself a little and rose up; but the sweat streamed on his face as thick as the rain and as cold as the well-water.
"Kokua," said he, "I said to you to-day what ill became me. Now I return to house with my jolly companions," and at that he laughed a little quietly. "I will take more pleasure in the cup if you forgive me."
She clasped his knees in a moment; she kissed his knees with flowing tears.
"Oh," she cried, "I asked but a kind word!
"Let us never one think hardly of the other," said Keawe, and was gone out of the house.
Now, the money that Keawe had taken was
