“There wouldn’t be anything to do, of course, if all that happened. Nevertheless, all you say is mere surmise, but if the worst came to the worst they couldn’t touch us. We’re doing nothing illegal. I tell you old Schwartzbrod assured me he would get from the new owners a legal document covering everything he ordered done.” “But suppose he didn’t get that document?” “‘We’re both blooming prisoners, that’s what we are!’” “Oh, trust him! Of course he’s got it, but even if he hadn’t, we are doing nothing illegal. Here you are with your fortune made if you run three trips to Lisbon and back. You are quite safe, whatever comes, for you are bound to obey the orders of those who chartered the vessel. But apart from all that, we are out of British jurisdiction here, and you will be out of British jurisdiction at Lisbon. You’ve done nothing, and can do nothing, so long as you obey orders, that will render you liable to British law.” “I don’t like the job a bit, Mr. Frowningshield; I tell you that straight.” “Nonsense, man. If any one is in danger, it’s me, and I’m not afraid. You’re protected by your ship’s papers. You are under orders, and you must obey them. If anything is wrong, it is other people who must stand the brunt. It isn’t criminal to sail a ship from Southampton to the West African coast, and it isn’t criminal to make voyages to Lisbon and back. You are all right, who-ever’s hurt, so don’t get into a panic, captain, merely because a rich fool and his yacht appears to have discovered the Paramakaboo River.” The captain, sorely troubled, but somewhat comforted by the confident tone of his comrade, was absentmindedly turning the picture pages of the _Sphere_, which he had taken from the wicker table at his elbow. Suddenly something caught his eye. “By the Lord, Frowningshield, look at the date of the _Sphere!_ 24th of May, it says, and we sailed on the 13th--a mighty unlucky day I call it. He bought this paper more than a week after we left! I tell you, Frowningshield, we’re done for. We’re blooming prisoners, that’s what we are!” [Illustration: 0175] CHAPTER VI--AN ATTACK ON THE HIGH SEAS Mr. manager frowningshield took up the copy of the _Sphere_ in his hand, and gazed with troubled brow at this conclusive evidence of the date. “Yes,” he said at last, “he was in England a week later than we were, and must have come direct to this spot, passing us somewhere on the way; during the night, probably.” The captain was now standing up, his fists clenched. “What do you propose to do?” inquired the manager. “I should like to know first whether we are here as his guests or his prisoners. We were fools to have accepted his invitation without giving ourselves time to think and consult.”