“If you don’t know your commander, I can introduce you to him so far as his character is concerned, for I know him well. John Scoble was a deserter from the British army, and he is a robber, a swindler, an embezzler. There are warrants out for his arrest in New York and New Jersey at the present moment,” said Louis with a good deal of vim. “That’s an excellent character you give him,” replied Frinks, shrugging his shoulders. “My mother and my two friends in the hold would tell you the same story, if you wish to examine them.” “It’s none of my affair, and I shall not trouble myself to look into the matter. I only obey orders, and it makes no difference to me what the captain’s name is.” “I am not to believe that this schooner is the Oxford, I suppose?” continued the victim. “Not unless you insist upon it. I took care not to let you see the name on her stern,” replied Frinks. “She is the Maud, I have no doubt.” “You are a Yankee, and you guessed right the first time.” “I have been on board of her before. She has been painted white since I saw her.” “Three coats,” laughed the wheelman. “If John Scoble is the captain, what are you, devoted lover of the truth?” “I am the mate.” “If you are bound to England, do you intend to take my two male friends with you, Mr. Frinks?” asked Louis, who had learned to “mister” the mate on board of the Blanche. “I must refer you to the captain for an answer to that question, my dear Louis, for I don’t know what will be done with them. We did not expect them, and did not provide for their accommodation beforehand.” “I am very much obliged to you for the information you have given me, Mr. Frinks. So far as I can see, what you have told me gives me no advantage if I should desire to make any change in the present situation,” said Louis as he moved away from the wheel. “If I had supposed it would, I should not have given it you; for I am employed by Captain Farrongate, and it is my duty to be loyal to him,” returned the mate. “But, my little lark, must I remind you that you are on the broad Atlantic, where you can’t swim ashore? You are caught in the captain’s fly-trap, and you can’t do a thing to help yourself. As your true and faithful friend, I advise you not to attempt to squeeze milk out of a paving-stone, for it can’t be done.” “Certainly it cannot; but the exercise might strengthen the muscles of the hand and arm,” replied the victim as he moved forward. He looked in at the galley as he passed it, rather to measure the size of the cook than to observe his culinary operations. He was not of large stature, and did not look at all formidable, for his expression was mild and meeching. The victim continued his walk forward, where he found the two seamen seated on the forecastle. They were men of medium size, who might be serviceable in an affray, but Louis did not regard them as invincible.