The stranger laughed aloud at this, then seemed surprised that aught of mirth could be awakened where grief and despair had so long reigned supreme.
"You will come with me to--to my den, gentlemen?" he asked, still nervous, and plainly loath to do aught which indicated a return to his recent dreary method of living.
"Is the distance great?" asked Professor Featherwit, with a glance towards the aeromotor, then flashing his gaze further, as though to guard against possible harm coming to that valuable piece of property.
More than ever to be guarded now, since the words spoken by this exile. Better death in yonder mighty whirlpool than a half-score years' imprisonment here!
Not so very far, he was assured, while it would be comparatively easy to float the air-ship above the trees, there of no extraordinary growth.
At the same time this assurance was given, the stranger could not mask his uneasiness of mind, and it was really pitiful to see one so strong in body and limb, so weak otherwise.
But uncle Phaeton was a fairly keen judge of human nature, and possessed no small degree of tact. Divining the real cause of that dread, he took the easiest method of allaying it, speaking briskly as he moved across to the aerostat.
"Bear the gentleman company, my lads, while I manage the ship.
You will know what signals to make, and I can contrive the rest."Again the recluse laughed, but now it was through pure joy, such as he had not experienced for long years gone by. He was not to be deserted by his rescuers from the whirlpool, and that was comfort enough for the moment.
Thanks to that guidance, but little time was cut to waste, Professor Featherwit taking the flying-machine away from the shore of the lake, floating slowly above the tree-tops, guiding his movements by those below, finally effecting a safe landing in a miniature glade, at no great distance from the "den" alluded to by their new-found friend.
"It will be perfectly safe here," the exile hastened to give assurance, as that landing was made. "Then, too, this is the only spot nigh at hand from which a hasty ascent could well be made, even with such an admirable machine as yours. Ah, me!"with a long breath which lacked but little of being a sigh, as he keenly, eagerly examined the aerostat. "A marvel! Who would have dared predict such another, only a dozen years ago? Ithought we had drawn very close to perfection while I was in the profession, but this,--marvellous!"Both words and manner gave the keen-witted professor a clew to one mystery, and he quickly spoke:
"Then you were familiar with aerostatics, sir? Your name is--""Edgecombe,--Cooper Edgecombe."
"What?" with undisguised surprise in face as in voice.
"Professor Edgecombe, the celebrated balloonist who was lost so long ago?""Ay! lost here in this thrice accursed wilderness!" passionately cried the exile; then, as though abashed by his own outburst, he turned away, pausing again only when at the entrance to his dreary refuge of many years.
"Give the poor fellow his own way until he has had time to rally, boys," muttered uncle Phaeton, in lowered tones, before following that lead. "I can understand it better, now, and this is--still is the terra incognita of which I have dreamed so long!"That refuge proved to be a large, fairly dry cavern, the entrance to which was admirably masked by vines and creepers, while the stony soil just there retained no trace of footprints to tell dangerous tales.
Mr. Edgecombe vanished, but not for long. Then, showing a light, formed of fat and twisted wick in a hollowed bit of hardwood, he begged his rescuers to enter.
No second invitation was needed, for even the professor felt a powerful curiosity to learn what method had been followed by this enforced exile; how he had managed to live for so many weary years.
With only that smoky lamp to shed light around the place, critical investigation was a matter of time and painstaking, although a general idea of the cavern was readily formed.
High overhead arched the rocky roof, blackened by smoke, and looking more gloomy than nature had intended. The side walls were likewise irregular, now showing tiny niches and nooks, then jutting out to form awkward points and elbows, which were but partially disguised by such articles of wear and daily use as the exile had collected during the years gone by, or since his occupancy first began.
So much the professor took in with his initial glances, but then he left Waldo and his brother to look more closely, himself giving thought to the being whom they had so happily saved from the whirlpool.