CHAPTER VI.
THE VOICE IN THE DARK.
The forehold into which Nat was conducted proved to be a dark, musty smelling place. Stanchions, like the pillars of a church, held up the deck above them. By the hollow ring of his and his guardians' feet on the floor Nat could tell that there must be yet another hold below the one in which it seemed he was to be made prisoner.
The men, none too gently, secured him hand and foot to one of the stanchions. Then, without a word, they turned and left him, ascending the steep ladder by which they had entered the hold. The next instant the light which filtered into the hold through the hatchway was shut out as the aperture was closed with a bang.
Nat, weak, drenched, and half starved, and wounded moreover, found himself in total blackness. He could move neither hand nor foot, although the instant the light was excluded he could hear the scuttling of huge ship rats all about him.
Brave as the boy was who shall blame him if, for a few moments, he gave way utterly and shouted and raved at the top of his voice. But a calmer interval succeeded. That wonderful little lamp which we call hope, and which persists in lighting up the darkest places, still burned—though dimly—in Nat's heart.
"Come," he thought to himself, "giving way like a baby will do me no good. Perhaps some way will appear of escape from this situation. When I was Morello's prisoner in the fortress in the Sierras things looked almost as bad, but they came out all right in the end. All I can do is to keep on hoping, anyway. If it only wasn't for those horrible rats, I'd feel better."
The loathsome creatures scampered round Nat's feet and legs and occasionally he could almost feel them touch him.
"Scat!" he would cry out at such moments, but that only produced a temporary panic among the noisome vermin. The next instant they would be back again. And they grew bolder every time. It seemed to Nat almost as if they knew he was nothing but a helpless prisoner.
After what appeared ages of time had elapsed, the hatchway opened once more and Britt and Hicks reappeared. They brought with them two steaming dishes of food and a jug of water. Setting these down as they arrived at Nat's side, they loosened his arm bonds to allow him to eat. His legs, however, were still secured tightly to the stanchion.
"Don't see what the skipper wants ter give yer a thing ter eat fer," growled the man Britt, savagely glaring at Nat. "If I wuz him, I'd starve you to death."