“Come ashore at once! If you don’t I will fire upon you!” yelled the captain, as he drew one of the large revolvers from his pocket. “Fire away!” returned Frinks in tones of derision, mingled with a chuckling laugh that fully indicated the treason of the mate. Captain Ringgold got the direction of the boat as well as he could from the sounds that came from it, and then discharged his revolver, which he had loaded in the steerage when the pair of weapons were given to him. “Good!” shouted the mate contemptuously. The shipmaster, using all the care the situation permitted, fired again; but it was very much like shooting at the moon, so far as the chances of hitting were concerned. The darkness was impenetrable, and the shipmaster had nothing to guide his aim but the sounds from the boat. “Good again!” returned Frinks derisively, and the sound of his voice grew less distinct as he increased his distance from the shore. “No use to fire at him any more, captain,” replied Louis in a tone of utter despondency, as he realized that the battle, according to present appearances, was utterly lost. But the captain continued to fire until he had discharged all the barrels in his two pistols. The mate could hear the reports, and he responded to every one of them in tones of the utmost contempt, as though he was enjoying the chagrin of the young millionaire and his stalwart companion. He had certainly won the victory again over the young Parkite, and he appeared from his tones to be enjoying it heartily. “There is a light off there now, and it must be on board of the Maud,” said the captain, as he peered through the gloom in the direction from which they had come in the boat. “All I have to say, Louis, is that we have been euchred!” “So it appears,” added the young man bitterly. “And my mother is on board of that craft still, with no one to protect her from the wiles of that villain. I am afraid I have been stupid in trusting to appearances. We had Scoble bound hand and foot, and we brought the mate off with us. I ought not to have believed a word that oily-tongued rascal uttered.” “It is no use to groan over it, my boy; we must act,” added the shipmaster, evidently ashamed that he had permitted himself to be overreached, but not so utterly cast down as his young companion, as he had less reason to be. “What can we do?” demanded Louis, suddenly rousing himself from his despondency.