"Indeed! what's his name, and what does he do? How does he live?"

The negro shook his head. "Da's more'n I dar tell till I ax his leave,
sar. I kin only say de peepil around calls 'im the hermit ob Rakata,
'cause he libs by his self (wid me, ob course, but _I_ counts for
nuffin), close under de ole volcano ob Krakatoa. Dey tink--some ob de
foolish peepil--dat he hab sold his-self to de dibil, but I knows
better. He's a good man, and you'd hab great fun if you stop wid him.
Now, what I's a-gwine to advise you is, come wid me an' see de hermit.
If he lets you stop, good. If not, I fetch you ober to de main
land--whar you please--an' you kin come back here or go whar you
choose. Its wort' your while to take your chance, anyhow."

The negro said this with such an earnest look that Nigel made up his
mind on the spot to accept this curious invitation.

"I'll go!" he exclaimed with sudden energy. "When do you start?"

"To-morrer at daybreak, sar."

"Well, I shall have to talk it over first with my father, but I'm sure
he won't object, so you may look out for me here at daybreak. Shall I
have to fetch any provisions with me for the voyage?"

"No, nuffin'. Boat's crammed wi' grub. But you'd better bring a gun o'
some sort an' a 'volver, an' a big knife, an' a mortal big appetite, for
a man's no good widout dat."

"I always carry that about with me," said the youth, "whatever else I