“I do not think you are to blame, my son, for you could not possibly have known that this Fobbington was an agent of Scoble,” replied the poor woman, removing her hands from her face and trying to smile upon her boy to assure him she did not blame him. “Of course I did not intend to get you into this trouble, and I had no possible reason for supposing that Frinks, for this is his real name, was in the service of Scoble. He heard me talking to the professor, and spoke to me. I had not heard from the jockey for so long that I had almost forgotten he ever existed. Besides, Frinks is a scholar, and I took him for a gentleman, as his manners indicated that he was.” “I do not blame you in the least degree, my dear boy,” she added, taking his hand and tenderly pressing it. “We must all have our light afflictions in this world, and this is one of ours; and I trust the Lord will give us strength to bear up under whatever trials are before us.” “That’s it precisely, dear mother,” said Louis, encouraged by the view of the situation she appeared to be taking. “You must be as firm as the immovable rocks on which the mountain rests, with no change or shadow of turning. It is for your salvation in this world and the next, as well as mine, that you are to battle, and any shrinking may be the ruin of us both. For my sake, as well as for your own, do not yield a hair to this villain, however softly and smoothly he may address you.” “I will not, Louis!” she exclaimed in a louder voice than it was prudent to speak. In the face of danger he had never seen her so strong and determined, and he felt more hopeful of the situation. It was not the annoyance, not the suffering, that might be in store for them, which troubled the young millionaire; it was the fear that his hitherto nervous and timid parent would yield to the fascinations of Scoble, and renew her matrimonial relations with him. If his mother would only be firm and resolute in her purpose never again to join her existence to that of the man who had kidnapped them, Louis cared little for anything else. He could defend himself and her from violence if any were attempted; and he was better prepared for such an event than his mother suspected; and certainly his enemies were equally ignorant of his resources in this direction. Mrs. Belgrave was recovering from her sickness, though it was still prudent for her to remain in her berth; and Louis found her in a vastly better condition, morally and mentally, than he had dared to hope for. He had more to say to her; but he was afraid Scoble might be listening to the conversation, and he went out into the cabin to survey his surroundings. When he felt sure of his mother’s strength of mind in her trying situation, he would be ready to do something for the release of his companions.