orders being given and a confused murmur of voices that lasts for
about five minutes, but I cannot distinguish a word that is said.

The only thought that occurs to me now is that they will hoist me on
board and lower me to the bottom of the hold and keep me there till
the vessel is far out at sea. Obviously they will not allow either
Thomas Roch or his keeper to appear on deck as long as she remains in
Pamlico Sound.

My conjecture is correct. Still gagged and bound I am at last lifted
by the legs and shoulders. My impression, however, is that I am not
being raised over a ship's bulwark, but on the contrary am being
lowered. Are they going to drop me overboard to drown like a rat, so
as to get rid of a dangerous witness? This thought flashes into my
brain, and a quiver of anguish passes through my body from head to
foot. Instinctively I draw a long breath, and my lungs are filled with
the precious air they will speedily lack.

No, there is no immediate cause for alarm. I am laid with comparative
gentleness upon a hard floor, which gives me the sensation of metallic
coldness. I am lying at full length. To my extreme surprise, I find
that the ropes with which I was bound have been untied and loosened.
The tramping about around me has ceased. The next instant I hear a
door closed with a bang.

Where am I? And, in the first place, am I alone? I tear the gag from
my mouth, and the bandages from my head.

It is dark--pitch dark. Not a ray of light, not even the vague
perception of light that the eyes preserve when the lids are tightly