"It is hot, my dear, terribly hot, but we must make the best of it; and I hope, in a few days, you will join your mamma on board ship. That will be pleasant, won't it?"
"Where is papa?" the girl wailed.
"I don't know where he is now, my child. At any rate, we must feel very glad that he's not shut up here, with us. Now take your bonnet off, and your shawl, and undo the hooks of your dress, and loosen everything you can. We must be as quiet and cheerful as possible. I'm afraid, Ada, we have a bad time before us tonight. But try to keep cheerful and quiet; and above all, dear, pray God to give you strength to carry you through it, and to restore you safe to your mamma, in a few days."
As time went on, the scene in the dungeon became terrible. Shouts, oaths, cries of all kinds, rose in the air. Round the window men fought like wild beasts, tearing each other down, or clinging to the bars for dear life, for a breath of the air without. Panting, struggling, crying, men sank exhausted upon the floor, and the last remnants of life were trodden out of them, by those who surged forward to get near the window.
In vain, Mr. Holwell implored them to keep quiet, for their own sakes. His voice was lost in the terrible din. Men, a few hours ago rich and respected merchants, now fought like maddened beasts for a breath of fresh air. In vain, those at the window screamed to the guards without, imploring them to bring water. Their prayers and entreaties were replied to only with brutal scoffs.
Several times Charlie and Tim, standing together against the wall behind, where there was now room to move, lifted Ada between them, and sat her on their shoulders in order that, raised above the crowd, she might breathe more freely. Each time, after sitting there for a while, the poor girl begged to come down again; the sight of the terrible struggle, ever going on at the window, being too much for her; and when released, leaning against Charlie, supported by his arm, with her head against his shoulder, and her hands over her ears to shut out the dreadful sounds which filled the cell.
Hour passed after hour. There was more room now, for already half the inmates of the place had succumbed. The noises, too, had lessened, for no longer could the parched lips and throats utter articulate sounds. Charlie and Tim, strong men as they were, leaned utterly exhausted against the wall, bathed in perspiration, gasping for air.
"Half the night must be gone, Tim," Charlie said, "and I think, with God's help, we shall live through it. The numbers are lessening fast, and every one who goes leaves more air for the rest of us.
"Cheer up, Ada dear, 'twill not be very long till morning."
"I think I shall die soon," the girl gasped. "I shall never see papa or mamma again. You have been very kind, Captain Marryat, but it is no use."