They had shown him how to drive away the ruffians.

His inspiration had not been his own, it had come from them and he thankfully acknowledged it.
He told himself now as he went about his island that he heard the good spirits singing among the leaves and he told it to himself so often that he ended by believing it.

It was such a pleasant and consoling belief too.

He listened to hear them say that he would leave the island when the time was ripe and his imagination was now so extraordinarily vivid that what he expected to hear he heard.

The spirits assured him that when the time came to go he would go.