Mr. Edgecombe vanished, but not for long. Then, showing a
light, formed of fat and twisted wick in a hollowed bit of
hardwood, he begged his rescuers to enter.

No second invitation was needed, for even the professor felt a
powerful curiosity to learn what method had been followed by this
enforced exile; how he had managed to live for so many weary
years.

With only that smoky lamp to shed light around the place,
critical investigation was a matter of time and painstaking,
although a general idea of the cavern was readily formed.

High overhead arched the rocky roof, blackened by smoke, and
looking more gloomy than nature had intended. The side walls
were likewise irregular, now showing tiny niches and nooks, then
jutting out to form awkward points and elbows, which were but
partially disguised by such articles of wear and daily use as the
exile had collected during the years gone by, or since his
occupancy first began.

So much the professor took in with his initial glances, but then
he left Waldo and his brother to look more closely, himself
giving thought to the being whom they had so happily saved from
the whirlpool.

"Professor Edgecombe!" he again exclaimed, grasping those
roughened hands to press them cordially. "I ought to have
recognised you at sight, no doubt, since I have watched your