early as it is, the people may
have retired."

She stepped boldly forward, and placed her hand on the knob of the door.

"Why," she whispered, excitedly. "It is unlocked; see, I can open it.
Perhaps something is wrong here. What shall we do?"

"Knock first; then if there is no response, we can feel our way about
inside. My matches are all wet."

She rapped sharply on the wood; waited for some reply, and then called
out. Not a sound reached them from within. The situation was strange,
nerve-racking, and she shrank back as though frightened before the black
silence confronting her. West, his teeth clinched, stepped in through the
open door, determined to learn the secret of that mysterious interior.
With hands outstretched he felt his way forward, by sense of touch alone
assuring himself that he traversed a hall, carpeted, his extended arms
barely reaching from wall to wall. He encountered no furniture, and must
have advanced some two yards, before his groping disclosed the presence
of a closed door on the left. He had located the knob, when the outer
door suddenly closed, as though blown shut by a draught of wind, and, at
the same instant, his eyes were blinded by a dazzling outburst of light.

This came with such startling, unexpected brilliancy that West staggered
back as though struck. For the instant he was positively blind; then he
dimly perceived a man standing before him--a man who, little by little,
became more clearly defined, recognizable, suddenly exhibiting the
features of Jim Hobart, sarcastically grinning into his face.

"You are evidently a cat of nine lives, West," he said sneeringly. "But
this ought to be the last of them."

CHAPTER XXX

HOBART FORGETS AND TALKS

For a moment West lost all control over himself. He was too completely
dazed for either words or action; could only stare into that mocking
countenance confronting him, endeavouring to sense what had really
occurred. He was undoubtedly trapped again, but how had the trick been
accomplished? What devilish freak of ill luck had thus thrown them once
more into the merciless hands of this ruffian? How could it have happened
so perfectly? The boat on the sand in the cove yonder; perhaps that was
the key to the situation. Those fellows who had left the _Seminole_ to
sink behind them, knew where they were when they deserted the yacht; they
landed at the nearest point along shore, where they had a rendezvous
already arranged for. Then