n a long low shed close by, he
found the canoe itself with the faithful Spinkie in charge.

"Don't go near the canoe till you've made friends with the monkey," said
the Malay in his own tongue, as he was about to put the key in the door.

"Why not?" asked the hermit.

"Because it is the savagest brute I ever came across," said the man. "It
won't let a soul come near the canoe. I would have killed it long ago if
the captain of the steamer had not told me you wished it to be taken
great care of. There, look out! The vixen is not tied up."

He flung open the shed-door and revealed Spinkie seated in his old
place, much deteriorated in appearance and scowling malevolently.

The instant the poor creature heard its master's voice and saw his
form--for his features must have been invisible against the strong
light--the scowl vanished from its little visage. With a shriek of joy
it sprang like an acrobat from a spring-board and plunged into the
hermit's bosom--to the alarm of the Malay, who thought this was a
furious attack. We need not say that Van der Kemp received his faithful
little servant kindly, and it was quite touching to observe the monkey's
intense affection for him. It could not indeed wag its tail like a dog,
but it put its arms round its master's neck with a wondrously human air,
and rubbed its little head in his beard and whiskers, drawing itself
back now and then, putting its black paws on his cheeks, turning his
face round to the light and opening its round eyes wide--as well as its
round little mouth--as if to make sure of his identity--then plunging
into the whiskers again, and sometimes, when unable to contain its joy,
finding a safety-valve in a little shriek.

When the meeting and greeting were over, Van der Kemp explained that he
would require his canoe by daybreak the following morning, ordered a few
provisions to be got ready, and turned to leave.

"You must get down, Spinkie, and watch the canoe for one night more,"
said the hermit, quietly.

But Spinkie did not seem to perceive the necessity, for he clung closer
to his master with a remonstrative croak.

"Get down, Spinkie," said the hermit firmly, "and watch the canoe."

The poor beast had apparently learned that Medo-Persic law was not more
unchangeable than Van der Kemp's commands! At all events it crept down
his arm and leg, waddled slowly over the floor of the shed with bent
back and wrinkled brow, like a man of ninety, and took up its o