"The nearest island is a good way off," returned the hermit, "and we
might miss it in the dark, for daylight won't help us yet awhile. No, we
will continue our course and accept what God sends."

This remark seemed to our hero to savour of unreasoning contempt of
danger, for the facing of a tropical squall in such an eggshell appeared
to him the height of folly. He ventured to reply, therefore, in a tone
of remonstrance--

"God sends us the capacity to appreciate danger, Van der Kemp, and the
power to take precautions."

"He does, Nigel--therefore I intend to use both the capacity and the
power."

There was a tone of finality in this speech which effectually sealed
Nigel's lips, and, in truth, his ever-increasing trust in the wisdom,
power, and resource of his friend indisposed him to further remark.

The night had by this time become intensely dark, for a bank of black
cloud had crept slowly over the sky and blotted out the moon. This cloud
extended itself slowly, obliterating, ere long, most of the stars also,
so that it was scarcely possible to distinguish any object more than a
yard or two in advance of them. The dead calm, however, continued
unbroken, and the few of heaven's lights which still glimmered through
the obscurity above were clearly reflected in the great black mirror
below. Only the faint gleam of Krakatoa's threatening fires was visible
on the horizon, while the occasional boom of its artillery sounded in
their ears.