“Get out of my way, Paddy, or I shall pulverize that empty head of yours,” added the mate, moving towards him with the evident intention of laying hands on him. “Hould your hoult where ye air!” said Felix, elevating the revolver, and pointing it at the head of his assailant. “That’s it, is it Paddy? Two of us can play at that game, and perhaps one of us will get beaten at it,” replied Frinks, as he retreated across the cabin and went into the stateroom he had formerly occupied. Felix had intended to behave like a Milesian simpleton, assuming to be witless and stupid; but the proposed plan to disturb Mrs. Belgrave seemed to leave him no alternative but to stand up in her defence, though he was sorry the occasion required him to take this step. The mate was absent some time, and had lighted the gimbal-lamp in his room. Felix kept his place in front of the door; but he fully understood the object of Frinks in going to his stateroom, and he was satisfied no shooting would be done in the cabin that night, however it might be at some future time. The mate spent at least a quarter of an hour in his room, and appeared to be rummaging everything there; but he came out at last, and went to the table where the captain was still seated. “Have you a revolver, Captain Scoble?” he asked in a more subdued tone. “I have two of them; but they are in a drawer in my stateroom,” replied Scoble. “I don’t know where mine is. I left it in one of the drawers, and that and the box of cartridges are gone,” added Frinks, very much discontented at the situation. “I don’t see that you can do anything about it just now, Mr. Frinks,” said the captain; and Felix thought he was pleased rather than disconcerted at the inability of the mate to meet him on equal terms. “It is time for us to go on deck and look out for the vessel.” Both of them left the cabin, and mounted the companion-way. Restoring his weapon to his pocket, Felix followed as far as the slide. He could see the light-house and the light-ship from the position he had taken. The sheets were started again, and the vessel was headed to the southward. “Whether we are bound to England or Bermuda, we may be overhauled before daylight,” the listener heard the captain say. “I have studied up this coast enough to know all about it; by daylight we shall be out of sight of any craft that floats in these waters. When we come to anchor we will put that young cub ashore.” At this moment the listener heard a voice in the cabin, and looking down discovered Mrs. Belgrave at her door. He did not like the task of telling her that Louis and Captain Ringgold were no longer on board of the schooner, and explaining the nature of the plot of which her friends were the victims. But he could not shirk his duty, and he hastened to the lady, who was calling her son by name. “I am very sorry to say, Mrs. Belgrave, that Louis is not here,” said he in tones of condolence.