s, stepping forward, asserted his rights.

"It's _my_ business," he said, "to carry t'ings w'en dey's got to be
carried. M'r'over, as I's bin obleeged to leabe Spinkie in charge ob de
boat, I feels okard widout somet'ing to carry, an' you ain't much
heavier dan Spinkie, Miss Winnie--so, come along."

He stooped with the intention of grasping Winnie as if she were a little
child, but with a light laugh the girl sprang away and left Moses
behind.

"'S'my opinion," said Moses, looking after her with a grin, "dat if de
purfesser was here he 'd net her in mistook for a bufferfly. Dar!--she's
down!" he shouted, springing forward, but Nigel was before him.

Winnie had tripped and fallen.

"Are you hurt, dear--child?" asked Nigel, raising her gently.

"Oh no! only a little shaken," answered Winnie, with a little laugh that
was half hysterical. "I am strong enough to go on presently."

"Nay, my child, you _must_ suffer yourself to be carried at this part,"
said Van der Kemp. "Take her up, Nigel, you are stronger than I am
_now_. I would not have asked you to do it before my accident!"

Our hero did not need a second bidding. Grasping Winnie in his strong
arms he raised her as if she had been a feather, and strode away at a
pace so rapid that he soon left Van der Kemp and Moses far behind.

"Put me down, now," said Winnie, after a little while, in a low voice.
"I'm quite recovered now and can walk."

"Nay, Winnie, you are mistaken. The path is very rough yet, and the dust
gets deeper as we ascend. _Do_ give me the pleasure of helping you a
little longer."

Whatever Winnie may have felt or thought she said nothing, and Nigel,
taking silence for consent, bore her swiftly onward and upward,--with an
"Excelsior" spirit that would have thrown the Alpine youth with the
banner and the strange device considerably into the shade,--until he
placed her at the yawning black mouth of the hermit's cave.

But what a change was there! The trees and flowering shrubs and ferns
were all gone, lava, pumice, and ashes lay thick on everything around,
and only a few blackened and twisted stumps of the larger trees
remained to tell that an umbrageous forest had once flourished there.
The whole scene might be fittingly described in the two words--grey
desolation.

"That is the entrance to your father's old home," said Nigel, as he set
his fair burden down and pointed to the entrance.

"What a dreadful place!" said Winnie, peering into the