meerschaum, while Moses glared at his master with absorbed interest, and
pulled at the cigarette with such oblivious vigour that he drew it into
his mouth at last, spat it out, and prepared another. Nigel sat quite
silent and waited for more.

"As to trade," continued Van der Kemp, resuming his discourse in a lower
tone, "why, of gold--the great representative of wealth--we export from
Sumatra alone over 26,000 ounces annually, and among other gold regions
we have a Mount Ophir in the Malay Peninsula from which there is a
considerable annual export."

Continuing his discourse, Van der Kemp told a great deal more about the
products of these prolific islands with considerable enthusiasm--as one
who somewhat resented the underrating of his native land.

"Were you born in this region, Van der Kemp?" asked Nigel, during a
brief pause.

"I was--in Java. My father, as my name tells, was of Dutch descent. My
mother was Irish. Both are dead."

He stopped. The fire that had been aroused seemed to die down, and he
continued to smoke with the sad absent look which was peculiar to him.

"And what about large game?" asked Nigel, anxious to stir up his
friend's enthusiasm again, but the hermit had sunk back into his usual
condition of gentle dreaminess, and made no answer till the question had
been repeated.

"Pardon me," he said, "I was dreaming of the days that are gone. Ah!