“Not of much value in the way of trade!” he repeated—­“forgive me, if I express surprise that you seem to know so little about us—­but, after all, the world is large, and one cannot become deeply versed in everything.”

Having uttered this truism, the hermit resumed his meerschaum and continued to gaze thoughtfully at the embers of the fire.  He remained so long silent that Nigel began to despair, but thought he would try him once again on the same lines.

“I suppose,” he said in a careless way, “that none of the islands are big enough to contain many of the larger wild animals.”

“My friend,” returned Van der Kemp, with a smile of urbanity, as he refilled his pipe, “it is evident that you do not know much about our archipelago.  Borneo, to the woods and wild animals of which I hope ere long to introduce you, is so large that if you were to put your British islands, including Ireland, down on it they would be engulphed and surrounded by a sea of forests.  New Guinea is, perhaps, larger than Borneo.  Sumatra is only a little smaller.  France is not so large as some of our islands.  Java, Luzon, and Celebes are each about equal in size to Ireland.  Eighteen more islands are, on the average, as large as Jamaica, more than a hundred are as large as the Isle of Wight, and the smaller isles and islets are innumerable.  In short, our archipelago is comparable with any of the primary divisions of the globe, being full 4000 miles in length from east to west and about 1,300 in breadth from north to south, and would in extent more than cover the whole of Europe.”

It was evident to Nigel that he had at length succeeded in opening the floodgates.  The hermit paused for a few moments and puffed at the meerschaum, while Moses glared at his master with absorbed interest, and pulled at the cigarette with such oblivious vigour that he drew it into his mouth at last, spat it out, and prepared another.  Nigel sat quite silent and waited for more.

“As to trade,” continued Van der Kemp, resuming his discourse in a lower tone, “why, of gold—­the great representative of wealth—­we export from Sumatra alone over 26,000 ounces annually, and among other gold regions we have a Mount Ophir in the Malay Peninsula from which there is a considerable annual export.”

Continuing his discourse, Van der Kemp told a great deal more about the products of these prolific islands with considerable enthusiasm—­as one who somewhat resented the underrating of his native land.

“Were you born in this region, Van der Kemp?” asked Nigel, during a brief pause.

“I was—­in Java.  My father, as my name tells, was of Dutch descent.  My mother was Irish.  Both are dead.”

He stopped.  The fire that had been aroused seemed to die down, and he continued to smoke with the sad absent look which was peculiar to him.

“And what about large game?” asked Nigel, anxious to stir up his friend’s enthusiasm again, but the hermit had sunk back into his usual condition of gentle dreaminess, and made no answer till the question had been repeated.