“But I do object,” growled the captain, though it was plain that he had been startled by the reply of the rebellious passenger. “All right; I will hear your objections next summer,” said Louis, as he came to his mother’s side. “I am afraid you will get hurt, my son,” pleaded Mrs. Belgrave, as she took his hand. “I am a hundred times more afraid that you will get hurt than that I shall,” continued Louis, as he led her back into the stateroom. “Don’t be at all alarmed about me; I can take care of myself. Go in, mother; lock the door, and do not come out.” “That is my stateroom, and I shall not give it up to any person, and especially not to one who treats me as that woman does,” interposed the captain with a fierce scowl on his brow. “I say, I shall not give up my room!” “Yes, you will, my dear captain, for you were always the most gallant man in the world, and you are not going to belie your record on this happy occasion,” replied Louis, as he came out of the room, closing the door behind him, which his mother immediately locked. “I would give it up to a lady,” said Scoble with the most withering sneer he could paint on his handsome face, or it would have been handsome if he had not made it ugly at this moment. “Thank you, captain; I knew you would give it up to a lady.” “Do you call that woman a lady?” demanded the captain, looking as ugly as sin itself, however personified. “A word, Captain John Scoble,” said Louis, stepping towards him, with the lower end of his stick raised from the floor. “You may call me anything you please, and I shall enjoy it as much as you do; but if you say an insolent or disrespectful word to or of my mother, I shall have immediate occasion to use this stick.” “This is mutiny!” roared the captain, dancing about the cabin floor in his wrath like a jumping-jack. “I dare say it is; if it be mutiny to protect my mother from insult, I shall be a mutineer to your heart’s content,” returned Louis, as his mother opened the door again, and stepped out. Her son hastened to her, and keeping one eye on the miscreant, gently crowded her back into the room. “Now, my dear mother, do not be alarmed at anything you may hear. I am abundantly able to take care of this man without the help of our friends. I am going to bring them into this cabin, and I hope this circus will come to an end before night,” said he to her. “But don’t be rash, my dear boy,” she replied, drawing him hastily to her breast, and kissing him on his brow. “I am terribly frightened.” “There isn’t anything to frighten you, dear mother. I shall be with you again in a minute or two,” he added, as he disengaged himself from her arms. He turned suddenly and discovered Scoble near the door, ready to make a plunge at him while his back was turned, or at least to go into the room. The moment he saw the face of the young defender of his mother, he retreated a few steps, still yielding a respectful homage to the stick.