The room in which he sat—­or rather the hut, for there was but one room in it—­was destitute of all furniture, except that already mentioned, besides one or two roughly-formed stools; but the walls were completely covered with strange-looking implements and trophies of the chase; and in a corner lay a confused pile of books, some of which were, from their appearance, extremely ancient.  All this the benighted wanderers observed as they continued to approach cautiously on tiptoe.  So cautious did they become as they drew near, and came within the light of the lamp, that Barney at length attempted to step over his own shadow for fear of making a noise; and, in doing so, tripped and fell with considerable noise through a hedge of prickly shrubs that encircled the strange man’s dwelling.

The hermit—­for such he appeared to be—­betrayed no symptom of surprise or fear at the sudden sound; but, rising quietly though quickly from his seat, took down a musket that hung on the wall, and, stepping to the open door, demanded sternly, in the Portuguese language, “Who goes there?”

“Arrah, then, if ye’d help a fellow-cratur to rise, instead o’ talkin’ gibberish like that, it would be more to your credit!” exclaimed the Irishman, as he scrambled to his feet and presented himself, along with Martin, at the hermit’s door.

A peculiar smile lighted up the man’s features as he retreated into the hut, and invited the strangers to enter.

“Come in,” said he, in good English, although with a slightly foreign accent.  “I am most happy to see you.  You are English.  I know the voice and the language very well.  Lived among them once, but long time past now—­very long.  Have not seen one of you for many years.”

With many such speeches, and much expression of good-will, the hospitable hermit invited Martin and his companion to sit down at his rude table, on which he quickly spread several plates of ripe and dried fruits, a few cakes, and a jar of excellent honey, with a stone bottle of cool water.  When they were busily engaged with these viands, he began to make inquiries as to where his visitors had come from.

“We’ve comed from the sae,” replied Barney, as he devoted himself to a magnificent pineapple.  “Och but yer victuals is mighty good, Mister—­what’s yer name?—­’ticklerly to them that’s a’most starvin’.”

“The fact is,” said Martin, “our ship has been taken by pirates, and we two swam ashore, and lost ourselves in the woods; and now we have stumbled upon your dwelling, friend, which is a great comfort.”

“Hoigh, an’ that’s true,” sighed Barney, as he finished the last slice of the pineapple.

They now explained to their entertainer all the circumstances attending the capture of the Firefly, and their subsequent adventures and vicissitudes in the forest; all of which Barney detailed in a most graphic manner, and to all of which their new friend listened with grave attention and unbroken silence.  When they had concluded he said,—­