A key turned in the lock, the door was flung open, and the skipper, dazed and blinking with the sudden light, stumbled into the room.

“Father’s gone,” said Miss Pilbeam.

The skipper made no answer.  He was administering first aid to a right leg which had temporarily forgotten how to perform its duties, varied with slaps and pinches at a left which had gone to sleep.  At intervals he turned a red-rimmed and reproachful eye on Miss Pilbeam.

[Illustration:  “He was administering first aid to a right leg.”]

“You want a wash and some breakfast,” she said, softly, “especially a wash.  There’s water and a towel, and while you’re making yourself tidy I’ll be getting breakfast.”

The skipper hobbled to the wash-stand, and, dipping his head in a basin of cool water, began to feel himself again.  By the time he had done his hair in the sergeant’s glass and twisted his moustache into shape he felt better still, and he went downstairs almost blithely.

“I’m very sorry it was your father,” he said, as he took a seat at the table.  “Very.”

“That’s why you laughed, I suppose?” said the girl, tossing her head.

“Well, I’ve had the worst of it,” said the other.  “I’d sooner be upset a hundred times than spend a night in that cupboard.  However, all’s well that ends well.”

“Ah!” said Miss Pilbeam, dolefully, “but is it the end?”

Captain Bligh put down his knife and fork and eyed her uneasily.

“What do you mean?” he said.

“Never mind; don’t spoil your breakfast,” said the girl.  “I’ll tell you afterwards.  It’s horrid to think, after all my trouble, of your doing two months as well as a night in the cupboard.”

“Beastly,” said the unfortunate, eying her in great concern.  “But what’s the matter?”

“One can’t think of everything,” said Miss Pilbeam, “but, of course, we ought to have thought of the mate getting uneasy when you didn’t turn up last night, and going to the police-station with a description of you.”

The skipper started and smote the table with his fist.

“Father’s gone down to watch the ship now,” said Miss Pilbeam.  “Of course, it’s the exact description of the man that assaulted him.  Providential he called it.”

“That’s the worst of having a fool for a mate,” said the skipper, bitterly.  “What business was it of his, I should like to know?  What’s it got to do with him whether I turn up or not?  What does he want to interfere for?”

“It’s no good blaming him,” said Miss Pilbeam, thinking deeply, with her chin on her finger.  “The thing is, what is to be done?  Once father gets his hand on you——­”

She shuddered; so did the skipper.

“I might get off with a fine; I didn’t hurt him,” he remarked.

Miss Pilbeam shook her head.  “They’re very strict in Woodhatch,” she said.

“I was a fool to touch him at all,” said the repentant skipper.  “High spirits, that’s what it was.  High spirits, and being spoken to as if I was a child.”