"It is not that danger threatens you so much as your friend the Rajah," returned the hermit. "But if he falls, all under his protection fall along with him. I happen to have heard of a conspiracy against him, on so large a scale that certain destruction would follow if he were taken by surprise, so I have come on in advance of the conspirators to warn him in time. You know I have received much kindness from the Rajah, so I could do no less than warn him of impending danger, and then the fact that you were with him made me doubly anxious to reach you in time."
While the hermit was saying this, the naturalist removed his blue glasses, and slowly wiped them with a corner of his coat-tails. Replacing them, he gazed intently into the grave countenance of his friend till he had finished speaking.
"Are zee raskils near?" he asked, sternly.
"No. We have come on many days ahead of them. But we found a party at the river's mouth awaiting their arrival."
"Ant zey cannot arrife, you say, for several veeks?"
"Probably not—even though they had fair and steady winds."
A sigh of satisfaction broke through the naturalist's moustache on hearing this.
"Zen I vill—ve vill, you and I, Mister Roy,—go after ze booterflies to-morrow!"
"But we must push on," remonstrated Van der Kemp, "for preparations to resist an attack cannot be commenced too soon."
"You may push on, mine frond; go ahead if you vill, but I vill not leave zee booterflies. You know veil zat I vill die—if need be—for zee Rajah. Ve must all die vonce, at least, and I should like to die—if I must die—in a goot cause. What cause better zan frondship? But you say joost now zere is no dancher. Vell, I vill go ant see zee booterflies to-morrow. After zat, I will go ant die—if it must be—vith zee Rajah."