And then came a slight noise. Some one was surely fumbling at the door. In the stillness Robert could hear his heart beat. It seemed as though seconds were prolonged into hours. Soon Robert was conscious that the door leading out into the hall was being slowly opened and softly closed. And then in the dim moonlight, he saw two dark figures like phantoms, making no sound, approach the desk where he knew the examination questions of the coming week were kept. With painful intensity of mind, and with a suffocating feeling, he saw them pause before the desk and heard a faint jingle, as of keys on a ring. Then the room was suddenly flooded with light. Robert never afterward liked to think, far less to speak, of the feelings he experienced in the next few seconds. They brought him more agony, more desolate grief, than he had ever felt before, or, it is hoped, will ever come again to him. [Illustration: _HE SAW TWO DARK FIGURES_] With startled, frightened glances the two jumped up. One was in civilian garb, a brown slouch hat was down over his forehead, a heavy dark moustache and beard covered his face; he wore a tightly buttoned up coat. The other was in midshipman uniform, and five golden stripes adorned each sleeve. "Oh!" gasped Robert, in anguish; "oh, Stonewell." Robert himself, unseen under the table, was almost overcome with grief and dismay. The bearded man jumped as if he had been shot, and then his companion exclaimed in a low voice: "Run, Harry, we're caught." As he said this both bolted from the room, and the last Robert saw of them was the electric light flashing on the golden stripes, which for a year had been Robert's joy, and the pride of every midshipman, but were now so dishonored and disgraced. The shock was too unexpected, too sudden for Robert. So his beloved friend, his idol of manhood and honor, the ideal all-around midshipman of his time, had proved to be but a low, contemptible dastard-- Robert's head sank on his knees and unrestrained convulsive sobs burst from his lips. He was suddenly robbed of that which was dearest to him; and blank hopeless desolation took possession of him. CHAPTER XXIII ROBERT RESIGNS "Didn't I tole yo' so, suh? That other man was Mistah Harry Blunt, suh; didn't yo' hear Mistah Stonewell call him Harry, suh? An' suppose dis ole niggah had done tole the commandan' that Mistah Stonewell, the fines' gemman in the 'Cademy, and Mistah Harry Blunt, the son of Capt'in Blunt, were stealin' zamnations, what would have happened ter ole Grice? He'd been 'cused of lyin', yo' knows dat, Mistah Drake. I known fer seberal months dat Mistah Harry Blunt been goin' about town in cibilians' close, but I ben feared to tole any one. Ain't I right, Mistah Drake? We done catched 'em, suh, an' yo' is evidence that ole Grice done tole de truf."