ntact with a mug filled with
a liquid that exhales an inviting odor. I raise it to my lips, which,
are burning, for I am suffering such an agony of thirst that I would
even drink brackish water.

It is ale--an ale of excellent quality--which refreshes and comforts
me, and I drain the pint to the last drop.

But if they have not condemned me to die of thirst, neither have they
condemned me to die of hunger, I suppose?

No, for in one of the corners I find a basket, and this basket
contains some bread and cold meat.

I fall to, eating greedily, and my strength little by little returns.

Decidedly, I am not so abandoned as I thought I was. Some one entered
this obscure hole, and the open door admitted a little of the oxygen
from the outside, without which I should have been suffocated. Then
the wherewithal to quench my thirst and appease the pangs of hunger
was placed within my reach.

How much longer will this incarceration last? Days? Months? I cannot
estimate the hours that have elapsed since I fell asleep, nor have I
any idea as to what time of the day or night it may be. I was careful
to wind up my watch, though, and perhaps by feeling the hands--Yes, I
think the little hand marks eight o'clock--in the morning, no doubt.
What I do know, however, is that the ship is not in motion. There is
not the slightest quiver.

Hours and hours, weary, interminable hours go by, and I wonder whether
they are again waiting till night comes on to renew my stock of
air and provisions. Yes, they are waiting to take advantage of my
slumbers. But this time I am resolved to resist. I will feign to be
asleep--and I shall know how to force an answer from whoever enters!

CHAPTER VI.

ON DECK.

Here I am in the open air, breathing freely once more. I have at last
been hauled out of that stifling box and taken on deck. I gaze around
me in every direction and see no sign of land. On every hand is that
circular line which defines earth and sky. No, there is not even a
speck of land to be seen to the west, where the coast of North America
extends for thousands of miles.

The setting sun now throws but slanting rays upon the bosom of the
ocean. It must be about six o'clock in the evening. I take out my
watch and it marks thirteen minutes past six.

As I have already mentioned, I waited for the door of my prison to
open, thoroughly resolved not to fall asleep again, but to spring upon
the first person who entered and force h