meanour which excluded all thought of merriment, and
Fleetword felt his limbs tremble beneath him when he reflected on the
desperate character of the man with whom he had to deal. "The Lord can
make a way for safety even from this den," he muttered, "yea, even from
this fastness, which, of a truth, is most curiously fashioned, and of
evil intention, doubtless." The little light that was admitted into the
cell came through an aperture in the cliff at so great a height from the
floor that it could hardly be observed, even if it had been left
unprotected by a ledge of stone that projected a considerable distance
under the opening, which was scarcely large enough to permit the
entrance of a sufficient quantity of air. The atmosphere was therefore
dense and heavy, and the preacher drew his breath with difficulty. The
chamber, we should observe, was directly over that in which we have
heretofore encountered the Buccaneer; for the interior of the cliff was
excavated in various parts, so as more nearly to resemble the formation
of a bee-hive than any other structure. It was filled, as we have
stated, with a variety of matters, for which either there was no
immediate demand, or that time had rendered useless. Of these, Fleetword
piled a quantity one over the other, and standing tiptoe on the topmost
parcel, succeeded in peeping through the aperture, but could perceive
nothing except the broad sea stretching away in the distance until it
was bounded by the horizon. As he was about to descend, one of the
packages rolled from under the rest, and the hapless preacher came to
the ground amidst a multitude of bales of cloth, logs of ebony, cramps,
and spoiled martin-skins, and found himself half in and half out of a
box of mildewed oranges, into which he had plumped, and which repaid the
intrusion by splashing him all over with their pulpy and unpleasant
remains. It was some time before he could extricate himself from this
disagreeable mass, and still longer before he could cleanse off the
filthy fragments from his garments. When he had done so, however, his
next care was to bestow the papers he had rescued from Burrell into some
safe place. "The Lord," he thought, "hath, at his own good pleasure,
given Satan or his high priest dominion over me, and it may be that I
shall be offered up upon the altar of Baal or Dagon as a sacrifice; but
it shall be one of sweet-smelling savour, untainted by falsehood or
dissimulation. Verily, he may des