At this the people seemed a little appeased.

"His heart is not quite so bad as we thought," they murmured among themselves; "but if he didn't want them, what did he mean?
Why did he beat down our huts and our plantations ?" Then Felix tried to explain to them--a somewhat dangerous task--that neither he nor Muriel were really responsible for last night's storm; but at that the people, with one accord, raised a great loud shout of unmixed derision.

"He is a god," they cried, "and yet he is ashamed of his own acts and deeds, afraid of what we, mere men, will do to him! Ha! ha! Take care! These are lies that he tells.

Listen to him! Hear him!" Meanwhile, more and more natives kept coming up with windfalls of fruit, or with objects they had vowed in their terror to dedicate during the night; and Felix all the time kept explaining at the top of his voice, to all as they came, that he wanted nothing, and that they could take all back again.

This curiously inconsistent action seemed to puzzle the wondering natives strangely.