f
the lamp caused him to look if possible even blacker than ever, and the
blackness was so uniform that his entire profile became strongly
pronounced, thus rendering every motion distinct, and the varied pouting
of his huge lips remarkably obvious. The extended left hand, too, with
the frequent thrusting of the index finger of the other into the palm,
was suggestive of argument, and of much reasoning effort--if not power.

After about half-an-hour of conversation, Moses arose, shook his master
by the hand, appeared to say "Good-night" very obviously, yawned, and
retired to the kitchen, whence, in five minutes or so, there issued
sounds which betokened felicitous repose.

Meanwhile his master sat motionless for some time, gazing at the floor
as if in meditation. Then he rose, went to his book-case and took down a
large thick volume, which he proceeded to read.

Nigel had by that time dropped into a drowsy condition, yet his interest
in the doings of his strange entertainer was so great that he struggled
hard to keep awake, and partially succeeded.

"I wonder," he muttered, in sleepy tones, "if that's a f--fam--'ly Bible
he's reading--or--or--a vol'm o' the En--Encyclopida Brit--"

He dropped off at this point, but, feeling that he had given way to some
sort of weakness, he struggled back again into wakefulness, and saw that
the hermit was bending over the large book with his massive brow resting
on the palms of both hands, and his fingers thrust into his iron-grey
hair. It was evident, however, that he was not reading the book at that
moment, for on its pages was lying what seemed to be a miniature or
photograph case, at which he gazed intently. Nigel roused himself to
consider this, and in doing so again dropped off--not yet soundly,
however, for curiosity induced one more violent struggle, and he became
aware of the fact that the hermit was on his knees with his face buried
in his hands.

The youth's thoughts must have become inextricably confused at this
point, yet their general drift was indicated by the muttered words:
"I--I'm glad o' that--a good sign--an'--an' it's _not_ th'
Encyclop----." Here Morpheus finally conquered, and he sank into
dreamless repose.

How long this condition lasted he could not tell, but he was awakened
violently by sensations and feelings of dread, which were entirely new
to him. The bed on which he rested seemed to heave under him, and his
ears were filled by sharp rattling sounds,