“Your sarvint, massa,” interrupted the negro humbly.  “I’s proud to be call your frind, but I’s only your sarvint, massa.”

“Truly you have been my faithful servant, Moses,” said Van der Kemp, “but not the less have you been my trusted friend.  He nursed me through a long and severe illness, Winnie.  How long, I am not quite sure.  After a time I nearly lost hope.  Then there came a very dark period, when I was forced to believe that you must be dead.  Yet, strange to say, even during this dark time I did not cease to pray and to wander about in search of you.  I suppose it was the force of habit, for hope seemed to have died.  Then, at last, Nigel found you.  God used him as His instrument.  And now, praise to His name, we are reunited—­for ever!”

“Darling father!” were the only words that Winnie could utter as she laid her head on the hermit’s shoulder and wept for joy.

Two ideas, which had not occurred to him before, struck Nigel with great force at that moment.  The one was that whatever or wherever his future household should be established, if Winnie was to be its chief ornament, her father must of necessity become a member of it.  The other idea was that he was destined to possess a negro servant with a consequent and unavoidable monkey attendant!  How strange the links of which the chain of human destiny is formed, and how wonderful the powers of thought by which that chain is occasionally forecast!  How to convey all these possessions to England and get them comfortably settled there was a problem which he did not care to tackle just then.

“See, Winnie,” said Van der Kemp, pointing with interest to a mark on the side of Rakata, “yonder is the mouth of my cave.  I never saw it so clearly before because of the trees and bushes, but everything seems now to have been burnt up.”

“Das so, massa, an’ what hasn’t bin bu’nt up has bin blow’d up!” remarked the negro.

“Looks very like it, Moses, unless that is a haze which enshrouds the rest of the island,” rejoined the other, shading his eyes with his hands.

It was no haze, however; for they found, on drawing nearer, that the greater part of Krakatoa had, as we have already said, actually disappeared from the face of the earth.

When the boat finally rounded the point which hid the northern part of the island from view, a sight was presented which it is not often given to human eyes to look upon.  The whole mountain named the Peak of Rakata (2623 feet high) had been split from top to bottom, and about one-half of it, with all that part of the island lying to the northward, had been blown away, leaving a wall or almost sheer precipice which presented a grand section of the volcano.

Pushing their boat into a creek at the base of this precipice, the party landed and tried to reach a position from which a commanding view might be obtained.  This was not an easy matter, for there was not a spot for a foot to rest on which was not covered deeply with pumice-dust and ashes.  By dint of perseverance, however, they gained a ledge whence the surrounding district could be observed, and then it was clearly seen how wide-spread and stupendous the effects of the explosion had been.