Professor Featherwit called out a few curt directions, which were promptly obeyed by his nephews, and after a few minutes' well-directed work consciousness was restored, and the stranger feebly strove to give them thanks. In vain these were set aside. He seemed like one half-insane from joy, and none who saw and heard could think that all this emotion arose from the simple rescue from the whirlpool. Nor did it. Wildly, far from coherently, the poor fellow spoke, yet something of the awful truth was to be gleaned even from those broken, disjointed sentences. For ten years an exile in these horrible wilds. For ten years not a single glimpse of white face or figure. For ten ages no intelligible voice, save his own; and that, through long disuse, had threatened to desert him! “Ten years!” echoed Waldo, in amazement. “Why didn't you rack out o' this, then? I know I would; even if the woods were full of--'sour-us' and the like o' that! Yes, SIR!” A low, husky laugh came through those heavily bearded lips, and the stranger flung out his hands in a sweeping gesture, sunken eyes glowing with an almost savage light as he spoke with more coherence: “Why is it, young gentleman? Why did I not leave, do you ask? Look! All about you it stretches: a cell,--a death-cell, from which escape is impossible! Here I have fought for what is ever more precious than bare life: for liberty; but though ten awful years have rolled by, here I remain, in worse than prison! Escape? Ah, how often have I attempted to escape, only to fail, because escape from these wilds is beyond the power of any person not gifted with wings!” “Ten years, you say, good friend? And all that time you have lived here alone?” asked the professor, curiously. “Ten years,--ten thousand years, I could almost swear, only for keeping the record so carefully, so religiously. And--pitiful Lord! How gladly would I have given my good right arm, just for one faraway glimpse of civilisation! How often--but I am wearying you, gentlemen, and you may--pray don't think that I am crazy; you will not?” Both the professor and Bruno assured him to the contrary, but Waldo was less affected, and his curiosity could no longer be kept within bounds. Gently tapping one hairy arm, he spoke: “I say, friend, what were you doing out yonder in the big suck? Didn't you know the fun was hardly equal to the risk, sir?” “Easy, lad,” reproved the professor; but with a a smile, which strangely softened that haggard, weather-worn visage, the stranger spoke: “Nay, kind sir, do not check the young gentleman. If you could only realise how sweet it is to my poor ears,--the sound of a friendly voice! For so many weary years I have never heard one word from human lips which I could understand or make answer to. And now,--what is it you wish to know, my dear boy?” “Well, since you've lived here so long, surely you hadn't ought to get caught in such a nasty pickle; unless it was through accident?”