e 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!"

"I will, on one condition."

"And that is--?"

"That you also dispense with the 'Mr.' and 'sir,' and call me Van der
Kemp."

"Agreed," said Nigel, "though it does not seem so appropriate in me as
in you, considering the difference of our years."

"Look here," said the hermit, turning abruptly to a small wooden shed
which had hitherto escaped the youth's observation, so covered was it
with overhanging boughs and tropical creeping plants, "these are my
astronomical instruments."

He pointed to a table in the hut on which stood several telescopes--and
microscopes as well--one of the former being a large instrument,
certainly not less than six feet long, with a diameter of apparently six
or eight inches.

"Here, you see, I have the means of investigating the wonders of Nature
in her grandest as well as her minutest scales. And there," he added,
pointing to a couple of large reflecting mirrors in strong wooden
frames, erected on joints in such a way that they could be turned in any
direction,--"there you have the secret of my sunshine. One of these
mirrors catches the sunshine direct and reflects it on the other, which,
as you see, is so arranged that it transmits the rays down the natural
funnel or chimney into the cave. By means of chains connected with the
mechanism, and extending below, I can change the direction of the
mirrors as the sun changes its place in the sky, without requiring to
come up here."

"Very ingenious!" said Nigel; "but how do you manage when the mountain
comes between you and the sun, as I see it cannot fail to do during some
part of the day?"

"Simply enough," returned the hermit, pointing to a distant projecting
cliff or peak. "On yon summit I have fixed four mirrors similar to
these. When the sun can no longer be reflected from this pair, the first
of the distant mirrors takes it up and shoots a beam of light over here.
When the sun passes from that, the second m