"With the Consul, eh?" he laughed. "Well, they're a decent lot, as a rule. We don't get much trouble with 'em if we deposit our papers in order." "But if I demanded your arrest for illegal imprisonment?" "I don't fancy you'd do that, mister," he responded with sarcasm. "It might be a bit of a bother for me in England, but the foreign police are a bit chary of touching a British capt'n." There was, I knew, some truth in that. Yet I did not intend to remain cooped up there, a prisoner, for the remainder of the voyage. "Well, now, look here," I said, in a more conciliatory tone. "Why are you not frank with me?" "Because you ain't responsible for your actions." "And that's why you won't allow me on deck?" He nodded. "Then I suppose when I was handed over to your tender charge they told you I was a lunatic?" "Well, they said you'd better be kept under restraint. I was told that you'd had a bad touch of the blues, it seems." "And yet you took me aboard while I was unconscious," I said. "That was scarcely a wise proceeding was it?" "You were here when I returned; I've told you I found you here." "Then you mean to tell me that you don't know who paid you to take me on this pleasure trip?" "No, I don't. I've only received orders, and just observed them." "Orders from whom?" "From my owners." "Your owners! What possible interest could your owners have in shipping me aboard while I was unconscious? Who are they?" "Hanways, of Newcastle." "And what ship is this?" "The _Petrel_, of Newcastle." "Bound for where?" "No," he replied. "I've strict orders to keep you confined in the cabin, to treat you as well as your behaviour will allow, and to tell you nothing." "Well, captain, you're a sensible man, and surely you'll listen to reason." "What reason? I've got my orders. That's enough for me." "But I tell you that by this action you are aiding in the concealment of a terrible crime--the dastardly murder of a lady in London," I burst forth. "Of course. That's the yarn they said you'd spin. Well, you can stow that for the present. I'll come down and hear it over a pipe, when I want a bit of relaxation. For the time being, just you sniff the ozone, and fancy yourself in a drawin'-room." Then, without more ado, the burly fellow made his exit, slammed the heavy door and bolted it, leaving me still a prisoner within that tiny cabin. CHAPTER SIX. CAPTAIN BANFIELD EXPLAINS. The hours passed but slowly. The man who had first answered my summons brought me some food but to all my arguments he remained obdurate. "The cap'n says you're to stay 'ere," he responded, "and if I let you out he'd put me in irons. Old Banfield ain't a skipper to be trifled with, I can tell yer." So I remained there, filled with gloomy thoughts, and wondering where I was being taken, and what possible interest Messrs. Hanway, the owners of the _Petrel_, could have in my forcible abduction.