Nigel glanced at Van der Kemp and was startled by the change that had come over him.  The moonbeams, which had by that time risen above some intervening shrubs, shone full on him and showed that his usually quiet gentle countenance was deadly pale and transformed by a frown of almost tiger-like ferocity.  So strange and unaccountable did this seem to our hero that he lay quite still, as if spell-bound.  Nor did his companions move until the strangers, having finished their talk, turned to retrace their steps and finally disappeared.

Then Van der Kemp rose with a sigh of relief.  The negro and Nigel also sprang up.

“What’s wrong, massa?” asked Moses, in much anxiety.

“Nothing, nothing,” said the hermit hurriedly.  “I must cross over to see these fellows.”

“All right, massa.  I go wid you.”

“No, I go alone.”

“Not widout arms?” exclaimed the negro, laying his hand on his master’s shoulder.

“Yes, without arms!” As he spoke he drew the long knife that usually hung at his girdle and flung it down.  “Now attend, both of you,” he added, with sudden and almost threatening earnestness.

“Do not on any account follow me.  I am quite able to take care of myself.”

Next moment he glided into the bushes and was gone.

“Can you guess what is the matter with him?” asked Nigel, turning to his companion with a perplexed look.

“Not more nor de man ob de moon.  I nebber saw’d ’im like dat before.  I t’ink he’s go mad!  I tell you what—­I’ll foller him wid a rifle an’ knife and two revolvers.”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” said Nigel, laying hold of the negro’s wrist with a grip of iron; “when a man like Van der Kemp gives an order it’s the duty of inferior men like you and me strictly to obey.”

“Well—­p’raps you’re right, Nadgel,” returned Moses calmly.  “If you wasn’t, I’d knock you into de middle ob nixt week for takin’ a grip o’ me like dat.”

“You’ll wish yourself into the middle of next fortnight if you disobey orders,” returned our hero, tightening the grip.

Moses threw back his head, opened his cavern, and laughed silently; at the same time he twisted his arm free with a sudden wrench.

“You’s awrful strong, Nadgel, but you don’t quite come up to niggers!  Howse’ber, you’s right.  I’ll obey orders; neberdeless I’ll get ready for action.”

So saying, the negro extracted from the canoe several revolvers, two of which he handed to Nigel, two he thrust into his own belt, and two he laid handy for “massa” when he should return.

“Now, if you’re smart at arit’metic, you’ll see dat six time six am t’irty-six, and two double guns das forty—­forty dead men’s more ’n enuff—­besides de knives.”

Moses had barely finished these deadly preparations when Van der Kemp returned as quietly as he had gone.  His face was still fierce and haggard, and his manner hurried though quite decided.