Both of these weapons were loaded, and he was well supplied with ammunition for each of them. But he remembered the solemn admonitions of Uncle Moses and Louis, in which he had been prohibited in the most positive manner from using the weapons he carried, unless it were to save his own life, or that of Louis or his mother. The worthy squire would not for some time assent to the carrying of these weapons, and the possibility of an attack on the part of Scoble had alone changed his refusal into a reluctant permission. Felix was not a little startled when he saw the door of the captain’s wooden cell slowly and cautiously opened. He had assisted in fastening the arms of the prisoner behind him with a pair of handcuffs, and had seen him made fast, with his ankles securely bound, to the front of the berth. He had looked at Captain Ringgold when he locked the door of the stateroom, and put the key in his pocket. He had observed the embarkation of the exploring party, and was fully aware that Frinks had been one of the four who went off into the darkness in the boat. Under these circumstances if a ghost had accosted Felix as he made his round in the cabin, he could hardly have been more startled and mystified than he was when he saw the door of the starboard stateroom opened. If he inherited any superstitions he had long since got rid of them, under the instruction and raillery of the jovial lawyer with whom he had lived from his earliest years. It did not occur to him, therefore, that the door had been opened by any other than human agency. He drew the smaller revolver from his pocket, and retreated to one side of the cabin, where the curtains of one of the berths afforded him an opportunity to conceal himself. He did not know who had opened the door. Of the ship’s company the mate and the cook had gone with the expedition to the shore, and only the two seamen remained on board, with the prisoner in the stateroom. Felix felt his responsibility, and he wished to be wise in his action if possible. Behind the curtain of the berth he watched for further proceedings on the part of the person who had opened the door. A lamp suspended from a deck-beam over the table gave him abundant light. He was not compelled to wait long for further developments, for presently he saw a head thrust out at the door. It did not require more than a glance to assure him that the head belonged to John Scoble, whom he had formerly known for a couple of years under the name of Wade Farrongate.