He stood stock-still, with wildly beating heart. Apparently the crazy student had made him a prisoner and was putting the launch in motion, with the intention of running it out of the harbor.
“Well, he can’t hold me in here!” was Frank’s fierce declaration. “And I can’t risk any delay in getting out.”
He again shouted Inza’s name, and heard only the exhaust of the pipe.
“That was not the cabman who leaped on deck,” was his conclusion. “It was Belton, who came round there to shut me in. I hope the cabman will lose no time in giving the alarm!”
Realizing that he was quivering with excitement, and that he needed a cool mind now if ever, Frank stood still in the darkness, gathering together the tangled thread of conjecture and evidence.
Then he coolly took a match from his pocket, struck it, and looked about the room. It was very small, with a door leading toward the stern of the launch.
“Perhaps Inza is beyond that door!” was his thought as the match flamed up and then burned out.
He stepped to the door, rapped heavily on it, and called Inza’s name. As before, there was no answer. The launch seemed to be tearing through the water at a rapid rate, presumably moving down the harbor.
Frank struck another match, took a good look at the door, and kicked on it heavily. It sprung inward with quivering timbers, but withstood the assault. Again and again he kicked on the door, throwing himself also against it with his shoulders. He was becoming desperate now, for his prison walls were stronger than he had at first supposed.
No better results came from an attack on the other door; and, returning to the one he had first tried to force, he flung himself at it with so mighty a leap and so irresistible an impetus that it yielded.