sir!" cried the hermit on observing this, but the man paid
no attention to the warning.

Another instant and the crust on which he stood gave way and he sank
into a horrible gulf from which issued a gust of sulphurous vapour and
steam. The horror which almost overwhelmed Nigel did not prevent him
bounding forward to the rescue. Well was it for him at that time that a
cooler head than his own was near. The strong hand of the hermit seized
his collar on the instant, and he was dragged backward out of danger,
while an appalling shriek from the stranger as he disappeared told that
the attempt to succour him would have been too late.

A terrible event of this kind has usually the effect of totally
changing, at least for a time, the feelings of those who witness it, so
as to almost incapacitate them from appreciating ordinary events or
things. For some days after witnessing the sudden and awful fate of this
unknown man, Nigel travelled as if in a dream, taking little notice of,
or interest in, anything, and replying to questions in mere
monosyllables. His companions seemed to be similarly affected, for they
spoke very little. Even the volatile spirit of Moses appeared to be
subdued, and it was not till they had reached nearly the end of their
journey that their usual flow of spirits returned.

Arriving one night at a village not very far from the southern shores
of Sumatra they learned that the hermit's presentiments were justified,
and that the volcano which was causing so much disturbance in the
islands of the archipelago was, indeed, the long extinct one of
Krakatoa.

"I've heard a good deal about it from one of the chief men here," said
the hermit as he returned to his friends that night about supper-time.
"He tells me that it has been more or less in moderate eruption ever
since we left the island, but adds that nobody takes much notice of it,
as they don't expect it to increase much in violence. I don't agree with
them in that," he added gravely.

"Why not?" asked Nigel.

"Partly because of the length of time that has elapsed since its last
eruption in 1680; partly from the fact that that eruption--judging from
appearances--must have been a very tremendous one, and partly because my
knowledge of volcanic action leads me to expect it; but I could not
easily explain the reason for my conclusions on the latter point. I have
just been to the brow of a ridge not far off whence I have seen the glow
in the sky of the Krakatoa fires. They do not, however, appear to be
very fierce at the present moment."

As he spoke there was felt by the travellers a blow, as if of an
explosion under the house in which they sat. It was a strong vertical
bump which nearly tossed them all off their chairs. Van der Kemp and his
man, after an exclamation or two, continued supper like men who were
used to such interruptions, merely remarking that it was an earthquake.
But Nigel, to whom it was not quite so familiar, stood up for a few
seconds with a look of anxious uncertainty, as if undecided as to the
path of duty and prudence in the circumstances. Moses relieved him.

"Sot down, Massa Nadgel," said that sable worthy, as he stuffed his
mouth full of rice; "it's easier to sot dan to stand w'en its
eart'quakin'."

Nigel sat down with a tendency to laugh, for at that moment he chanced
to glance at the rafters above, where he saw a small anxious-faced
monkey gazing down at him.

He was commenting on this creature when another prolonged shock of
earthquake came. It was not a bump like the previous one, but a severe
vibration which only served to shake the men in their chairs, but it
shook the small monkey off the rafter, and the miserable little thing
fell with a shriek and a flop into the rice-dish!

"Git out o' dat--you scoundril!" exclaimed Moses, but the order was
needless, for the monkey bounced out of it like indiarubber and sought
to hide its confusion in the thatch, while Moses helped himself to some
more of the rice, which, he said; was none the worse for being
monkeyfied!

At last our travellers found themselves in the town of Telok Betong,
where, being within forty-five miles of Krakatoa, the hermit could both
see and hear that his island-home was in violent agitation; tremendous
explosions occurring frequently, while dense masses of smoke were
ascending from its craters.

"I'm happy to find," said the hermit, soon after their arrival in the
town, "that the peak of Rakata, on the southern part of the island where
my cave lies, is still quiet and has shown no sign of breaking out. And
now I shall go and see after my canoe."

"Do you think it safe to venture to visit your cave?" asked Nigel.

"Well, not absolutely safe," returned the hermit with a peculiar smile,
"but, of course, if you think it unwise to run the risk of--"

"I asked a simple question, Van der Kemp, without any thought of
myself," interrupted the youth, as he flushed deeply.

"Forgive me, Nigel," returned the hermit quickly and gravely, "it is but
my duty to point out that we cannot go there without running _some_
risk."

"And it is _my_ duty to point out," retorted his hurt friend, "that when
any man, worthy of the name, agrees to follow another, he agrees to
accept all risks."

To this the hermit vouchsafed no further reply than a slight smile and
nod of intelligence. Thereafter he went off alone to inquire about his
canoe, which, it will be remembered, his friend, the captain of the
steamer, had promised to leave for him at this place.

Telok Betong, which was one of the severest sufferers by the eruption of
1883, is a small town at the head of Lampong Bay, opposite to the island
of Krakatoa, from which it is between forty and fifty miles distant. It
is built on a narrow strip of land at the base of a steep mountain, but
little above the sea, and is the chief town of the Lampong Residency,
which forms the most southerly province of Sumatra. At the time we write
of, the only European residents of the place were connected with
Government. The rest of the population was composed of a heterogeneous
mass of natives mingled with a number of Chinese, a few Arabs, and a
large fluctuating population of traders from Borneo, Celebes, New
Guinea, Siam, and the other innumerable isles of the archipelago. These
were more or less connected with praus laden with the rich and varied
merchandise of the eastern seas. As each man in the town had been
permitted to build his house according to his own fancy, picturesque
irregularity was the agreeable result. It may be added that, as each
man spoke his own language in his own tones, Babel and noise were the
consequence.

In a small hut by the waterside the hermit found the friend--a Malay--to
whom his canoe had been consigned, and, in a long low shed close by, he
found the canoe itself with the faithful Spinkie in charge.

"Don't go near the canoe till you've made friends with the monkey," said
the Malay in his own tongue, as he was about to put the key in the door.

"Why not?" asked the hermit.

"Because it is the savagest brute I ever came across," said the man. "It
won't let a soul come near the canoe. I would have killed it long ago if
the captain of the steamer had not told me you wished it to be taken
great care of. There, look out! The vixen is not tied up."

He flung open the shed-door and revealed Spinkie seated in his old
place, much deteriorated in appearance and scowling malevolently.

The instant the poor creature heard its master's voice and saw his
form--for his features must have been invisible against the strong
light--the scowl vanished from its little visage. With a shriek of joy
it sprang like an acrobat from a spring-board and plunged into the
hermit's bosom--to the alarm of the Malay, who thought this was a
furious attack. We need not say that Van der Kemp received his faithful
little servant kindly, and it was quite touching to observe the monkey's
intense affection for him. It could not indeed wag its tail like a dog,
but it put its arms round its master's neck with a wondrously human air,
and rubbed its little head in his beard and whiskers, drawing itself
back now and then, putting its black paws on his cheeks, turning his
face round to the light and opening its round eyes wide--as well as its
round little mouth--as if to make sure of his identity--then plunging
into the whiskers again, and sometimes, when unable to contain its joy,
finding a safety-valve in a little shriek.

When the meeting and greeting were over, Van der Kemp explained that he
would require his canoe by daybreak the following morning, ordered a few
provisions to be got ready, and turned to leave.

"You must get down, Spinkie, and watch the canoe for one night more,"
said the hermit, quietly.

But Spinkie did not seem to perceive the necessity, for he clung closer
to his master with a remonstrative croak.

"Get down, Spinkie," said the hermit firmly, "and watch the canoe."

The poor beast had apparently learned that Medo-Persic law was not more
unchangeable than Van der Kemp's commands! At all events it crept down
his arm and leg, waddled slowly over the floor of the shed with bent
back and wrinkled brow, like a man of ninety, and took up its old
position on the deck, the very personification of superannuated woe.

The hermit patted its head gently, however, thus relieving its feelings,
and probably introducing hope into its little heart before leaving. Then
he returned to his friends and bade them prepare for immediate
departure.

It was the night of the 24th of August, and as the eruptions of the
volcano appeared to be getting more and more violent, Van der Kemp's
anxiety to reach his cave became visibly greater.

"I have been told," said the hermit to Nigel, as they went down with
Moses to the place where the canoe had been left, "the history of
Krakatoa since we left. A friend informs me that a short time after our
departure the eruptions subsided a little, and the people here had
ceased to pay much attention to them, but about the middle of June the
volcanic activity became more violent, and on the 19th, in particular,
it was observed that the vapour column and the force of the explosions
were decidedly on the increase."

"At Katimbang, from which place the island can be seen, it was noticed
that a second column of vapour was ascending from the centre of the
island, and that the appearance of Perboewatan had entirely changed,
its conspicuous summit having apparently been blown away. In July there
were some explosions of exceptional violence, and I have now no doubt
that it was these we heard in the interior of this island when we were
travelling hither, quite lately. On the 11th of this month, I believe,
the island was visited in a boat by a government officer, but he did not
land, owing to the heavy masses of vapour and dust driven about by the
wind, which also prevented him from making a careful examination, but he
could see that the forests of nearly the whole island have been
destroyed--only a few trunks of blighted trees being left standing above
the thick covering of pumice and dust. He reported that the dust near
the shore was found to be twenty inches thick."

"If so," said Nigel, "I fear that the island will be no longer fit to
inhabit."

"I know not," returned the hermit sadly, in a musing tone. "The officer
reported that there is no sign of eruption at Rakata, so that my house
is yet safe, for no showers of pumice, however deep, can injure the
cave."

Nigel was on the point of asking his friend why he was so anxious to
revisit the island at such a time, but, recollecting his recent tiff on
that subject, refrained. Afterwards, however, when Van der Kemp was
settling accounts with the Malay, he put the question to Moses.

"I can't help wondering," he said, "that Van der Kemp should be so
anxious to get back to his cave just now. If he were going in a big boat
to save some of his goods and chattels I could understand it, but the
canoe, you know, could carry little more than her ordinary lading."

"Well, Massa Nadgel," said Moses, "it's my opinion dat he wants to go
back 'cause he's got an uncommon affekshnit heart."

"How? Surely you don't mean that his love of the mere place is so strong
that--"

"No, no, Massa Nadgel--'s not dat. But he was awrful fond ob his wife
an' darter, an' I know he's got a photogruff ob 'em bof togidder, an' I
t'ink he'd sooner lose his head dan lose dat, for I've seed him look at
'em for hours, an' kiss 'em sometimes w'en he t'ought I was asleep."

The return of the hermit here abruptly stopped the conversation. The
canoe was carried down and put into the water, watched with profound
interest by hundreds of natives and traders, who were all more or less
acquainted with the hermit of Rakata.

It was still