Chapter 6

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 him to answer my questions. I
was not aware then that it was day, but it was, and hour after hour
passed and no one came. I began to suffer again from hunger and
thirst, for I had not preserved either bite or sup.

As soon as I awoke I felt that the ship was in motion again, after
having, I calculated, remained stationary since the previous day--no
doubt in some lonely creek, since I had not heard or felt her come to
anchor.

A few minutes ago--it must therefore have been six o'clock--I again
heard footsteps on the other side of the iron wall of my compartment.
Was anybody coming to my cell? Yes, for I heard the creaking of the
bolts as they were drawn back, and then the door opened, and the
darkness in which I had been plunged since the first hour of my
captivity was illumined by the light of a lantern.

Two men, whom I had no time to look at, entered and seized me by the
arms. A thick cloth was thrown over my head, which was enveloped in
such a manner that I could see absolutely nothing.

What did it all mean? What were they going to do with me? I struggled,
but they held me in an iron grasp. I questioned them, but they made
no reply. The men spoke to each other in a language that I could not
understand, and had never heard before.

They stood upon no ceremony with me. It is true I was only a madhouse
warder, and they probably did not consider it necessary to do so; but
I question very much whether Simon Hart, the engineer, would have
received any more courtesy at their hands.

This time, however, no attempt was made to gag me nor to bind either
my arms or legs. I was simply restrained by main force from breaking
away from them.

In a moment I was dragged out of the compartment and pushed along a
narrow passage. Next, the steps of a metallic stairway resounded under
our feet. Then the fresh air blew in my face and I inhaled it with
avidity.

Finally they took their hands from off me, and I found myself free.