nswered in a hesitating way, saying a few words, and then
sharply one in a questioning tone, as if he had not understood.

The harsh, croaking voice was heard again, speaking angrily, and there
were several interchanges of question and answer, as if between two men
who did not quite understand each other's dialect.

And now Mark's eyes had become so accustomed to the darkness that he
could dimly see that the place was full of a steamy mist, through which
horrible-looking, ill-defined figures were moving, wild-eyed and
strange. Some were tossing their arms about, others were stretching out
their hands supplicatingly toward the water pannikins, which the two
blacks kept dipping full and handing to those who pressed toward them;
but there was no scuffling or fighting for the water, as might have been
expected under the circumstances. The wretched prisoners seemed gentle
and tolerant to each other, drinking and making way for companion
sufferers.

As this went on, and Mark was able to search the horrible gloom more and
more, he shuddered; and, suffering as he was from the effects of the
deadly mephitic air, the whole scene preyed upon his mind until he could
hardly believe that he was gazing at reality, the whole tragedy before
him resembling the dream accompanying some fever, and it was only by an
effort that he could master the intense desire to struggle up the ladder
and escape into the light and the free fresh air.

The buckets were nearly empty, and he felt that it would be better for
what was left in one to be poured into the other, so that the supplying
might still go on while more was fetched, when it suddenly struck him
that there was something wrong. In the darkness he could dimly make out
two or three tall blacks pressing forward toward where the white-clothed
sailors were dispensing the precious fluid, and it struck him that their
aspect was threatening. The next moment he set the idea down as being
imaginative, and the result of the unreal-looking, dreamy scene before
him. For it was impossible, he argued, for the slaves to be about to
resent the treatment they were receiving.

"It's my head all in a whirl," he said to himself; "and it's just like I
used to feel when I was ill and half dead in the boat."

But the next minute he felt that the first idea was correct; something
was wrong, and it struck him that the prisoners were going to make an
attack. But he could not be sure; the darkness was too th