“You must have studied the subject of volcanoes a good deal, I suppose, from what you say,” observed Nigel.

“Naturally; living as I do almost on the top of one.  My library, which I will show you presently, contains many interesting works on the subject.  But come, if you have finished we will ascend the Peak of Rakata and I will introduce you to my sunshine.”

He rose and led his guest back to the outer cavern, leaving Moses still busy with knife and fork, apparently meditating on the pleasure of breakfasting with the prospect of a possible and immediate explosion.

In passing through the first chamber, Nigel observed, in a natural recess, the library just referred to.  He also noted that, besides stuffed birds and other specimens and sea-shells, there were chisels, saws, hammers, and other tools, besides something like a forge and carpenter’s bench in a side-chamber opening out of the large one, which he had not at first seen—­from all which he concluded that the hermit was imbued with mechanical as well as scientific and literary tastes.

At the further and darker end of the outer cave there was a staircase, partly natural, and partly improved by art, which led upward into profound darkness.

“Let me take your hand here,” said the hermit, looking down upon his guest with his slight but winning smile; “it is a rough and dark staircase.  You will be apt to stumble.”

Nigel placed his hand in that of his host with perfect confidence, and with a curious feeling—­aroused, probably, by the action—­of having returned to the days of childhood.

The stair was indeed rugged as well as winding, and so pitchy dark that the youth could not have advanced at all without stumbling, unless his host had held him all the way.  At last a glimmer of light was seen in the distance.  It seemed to increase suddenly, and in a few moments the two emerged from total darkness into dazzling sunshine.

When Nigel looked round him he saw that they had gained a plateau, high up on the very summit of the mountain, which appeared to be absolutely inaccessible by any means save that by which they had reached it.

“This is what I call my observatory,” said the hermit, turning to his guest.  “We have passed right through the peak of Rakata, and reached its northern side, which commands, as you see, a view of all the northern part of the island.  I come here often in the night to study the face of the heavens, the moon, and stars, and meditate on their mysterious Maker, whose ways are indeed wonderful and past finding out; but all which must, in the nature of things, be right.”

As this was the first mention that the hermit had made of the Creator, and the reference was one requiring more thought than Nigel had yet bestowed on it, he made no rejoinder.

“Have you studied astronomy, Mr. Roy?”

“No—­at least not more of it than was needful for navigation.  But pray, sir, do not call me Mr. Roy,” said the youth, with a somewhat embarrassed air.  “If I am to be your assistant and familiar companion for two or three months, I hope that you will agree to call me Nigel.  Your man has done so already without asking leave!”