“I belong to a religious order. I am a recluse.”
“Roman Catholic, I presume?” said the Professor, glancing at the crucifix.
“Your meaning is not wholly clear to me,” replied the Hermit.
“What are your views? Do you lean to Calvinism, or do you think the Arminians, upon the whole, have the best of the argument?”
“The gentleman does not understand you, pa,” said Miss Baffin.
“Never mind, then; we will not press it. But I should like very much if you would tell us something about this place; this country around here,” said the Professor, waving his hand towards the door.
“Let me ask first of the misadventure which cast you unwillingly upon our shores?” said the Hermit.
“Well, you see, I sailed from New York on the twenty-third of last month, with my daughter here, to fulfil an engagement to deliver a course of lectures in England.”
“In England!” exclaimed the Hermit, with an appearance of eager interest.
“Yes, in England. I am a professor, you know, in an American university. When we were about half way across, the ship sprang a leak, from some cause now unknown. My daughter and I got off with our baggage upon a life-raft, which I most fortunately had with me. The rest of the passengers and the crew escaped in the boats. I became separated from them, and drifted here. That is the whole story.”