“You need not have the slightest fear of me, Louis,” replied Mrs. Belgrave very earnestly. “I know I have been weak and faltering, and I have given you reason to distrust my firmness; but Heaven will give me strength this time to be true to you and to myself;” and she drew him towards her and kissed him on his brow. “I am satisfied, mother; and as long as you continue resolute in your present purpose, I shall not care what happens to me.” “But I shall care what happens to you, my son,” she interposed. “I hope you will not rashly undertake any wild scheme; I trust you will not try to be a knight-errant.” “We are in a bad scrape, and you surely do not expect me to fold my arms and do nothing, do you, mother?” demanded Louis, with something like indignation in his tones, as nearly like it as it could be in speaking to his mother. “What can you do, Louis?” “For one thing I can make an attempt to release Captain Ringgold and Felix from their dungeon in the hold of the schooner. They are my friends, and they are having the worst of it.” “Perhaps Scoble will release them if you ask him to do so.” “I shall not ask him. I know better than to do that,” replied Louis decidedly, as he heard a tremendous racket in the cabin, with a voice speaking in a loud tone. Louis hastened out into the cabin to ascertain the cause of the disturbance. The first person he saw was Frinks, who was standing near the pantry door, pounding with his fist upon the panels near him. “It is blowing half a gale, and it looks as though we were going to have a tough north-easter,” shouted he in a loud tone, as Louis stopped at the stateroom door. “Did you speak to me, Mr. Frinks? If you did, I beg to suggest that I am not deaf,” said the passenger when he saw the mate. “No; I did not speak to you, for you are nothing but a landlubber,” replied the mate, who did not seem to be in as good humor as when he was on deck. “Where is the captain? He is the man I want to see just now, before the blow takes the masts out of the vessel. Where is he?” “I have no idea where he is, and I can’t say that I care. I saw him when I first came into the cabin, but not since.” The mate cared more about the matter, and, crossing to the pantry, he pounded on the door of it loud enough to wake the dead, if any had been within hearing distance. “Below there! Captain Scoble!” yelled the mate at the top of his lungs. “In the cabin!” replied a voice, which Louis recognized as that of Captain Scoble; and it appeared to come from the bowels of the vessel, forward of the cabin. “What’s the row now?” “Row enough!” replied Frinks, entering the pantry, and trying the door leading to the steerage, which was fastened. “You had better show yourself on deck, Captain Scoble, if you don’t want the masts taken out of the schooner.”