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“I am awfully hungry,” said Miss Baffin.

The Hermit produced a piece of meat, and hanging it upon a turnspit he gathered a few sticks and placed them beneath it. The Professor watched him closely; and when the holy man took in his hands a flint and steel with which to ignite the wood, the Professor exclaimed,—

“One moment! Let me start that fire for you?”

Taking from his pocket an old newspaper, he put it beneath the sticks; then from his match-box he took a match, and striking it there was a blaze in a moment.

The Hermit crossed himself and muttered a prayer at this performance.

“No cause for alarm, I assure you,” said the Professor.

“You must be a wizard,” said the Hermit.

“No; I did that with what we call a match; like this one. There is stuff on the end which catches fire when you rub it,” and the Professor again ignited a match.

“I never could have dreamed that such a thing could be,” exclaimed the recluse. “You will be regarded by our people as the most marvellous magician that ever lived.”