“I am not a genuine hermit,” remarked his host gravely.  “Men do indeed call me the Hermit of Rakata, because I dwell alone here under the shadow of this particular cone of Krakatoa, but I do not ape the austere life of the conventional hermit, as you see, either in my domestic arrangements or food.  Come, your breakfast is ready.  From my outlook I saw your boat approaching some hours ago, and knew that it was mine, so I made ready for your arrival, though I did not guess that Moses was bringing me a guest instead of a servant!”

So saying, he led the way through a short natural passage to an inner cave, the entrance to which, like the outer one, was boarded.  On opening a small door, Nigel was again greeted as before with brilliant rays of sunshine, and, in addition, with a gush of odours that were exceedingly grateful to a hungry man.  A low “Ho! ho!” behind him told that his black companion was equally gratified.

The inner cave or mess-room, as the host styled it, combined dining-room and kitchen, for while in one corner stood a deal table with plates, cups, etc., but no tablecloth, in another stood a small stove, heated by an oil lamp, from which issued puffing and sputtering sounds, and the savoury odours above referred to.

Nigel now perceived that although his strange host necessarily spoke a good deal while welcoming him and offering him the hospitalities of his abode, he was by no means communicative.  On the contrary, it was evident that he was naturally reserved and reticent, and that although polite and gentle in the extreme, there was a quiet grave dignity about him which discouraged familiarity.  It must not be supposed, however, that he was in any degree morosely silent.  He was simply quiet and undemonstrative, said little except when asked questions, and spoke, alike to Nigel and Moses, in the soft, low, kindly tones with which one might address very young people.

Going to the stove he took a coffee-pot therefrom and set it on the table.  At the same time, Moses, without requiring to be told, opened the oven and brought forth fried fish, meat of some kind, and cakes of he knew not what, but cared little, for their excellence was unquestionable.

During the meal that followed, Nigel ventured as far as politeness permitted—­indeed a little further, if truth must be told—­to inquire into the circumstances and motives of his entertainer in taking up his abode in such a strange place, but he soon found that his eccentric friend was not one who could be “pumped.”  Without a touch of rudeness, and in the sweetest of voices, he simply assumed an absent manner and changed the subject of discourse, when he did not choose to reply, by drawing attention to some irrelevant matter, or by putting a counter question which led away from the subject.  Nigel also found that his host never laughed and rarely smiled, though, when he did so the smile was so slight as merely to indicate a general feeling of urbanity and goodwill, and it was followed instantly by a look of gravity, if not sadness.  Altogether the guest was much perplexed about the host at first, and somewhat constrained in consequence, but gradually he began to feel at ease.  Another discovery that he soon made was, that the hermit treated Moses not as a servant, but as if he were in all respects an equal and a comrade.