After that I felt as though I were on a stormy sea. The ship in which we sailed tossed like a cork, while the waves, foam-crested, hurled themselves furiously on our bark. A great panic seized the ship's crew, and they gave themselves up for lost. But for myself I had no fear. A great benign influence was around me, and I felt as safe as a babe rocked on its mother's breast, while the wild winds that roared seemed as sweet as the lullaby of a mother to a tired child.
For a long time the darkness continued, and then, when all hope seemed to have departed from the ship's crew, I saw a twinkling light. Then I felt rough hands around my body, while evil eyes gleamed; but I still saw the love-light shining from my mother's eyes, and I heard a voice saying, "He must not suffer harm."
Then all was a perfect blank.
* * * * *
When I awoke to consciousness I found myself in a small room. It was dimly lighted, and the air seemed cold and clammy. As my eyes became accustomed to my surroundings I saw that the walls were rough and unplastered. Above my head were huge beams, covered with thick, unplaned boards. Only one window was in the room. It was very small, and through the glass I could see iron bars. The window, I judged, was eighteen inches wide, and perhaps two feet high.
I was lying on a bed which was made of rough deal, and had evidently been knocked together hurriedly. But the clothes were clean and dry. Beside me was a table on which was a basin and some cups.
"Where am I, and how did I get here?" I asked myself.
For some time I had no remembrance of the past. Then events came to me in a dim, vague way. I remembered the letter which I thought was written by Naomi, and my journey to Pendennis Castle. But it seemed a long way off. It might have been years; I could not tell.
I tried to lift myself from my bed, but I could not, I was too weak. I looked at my hands; they were white like a woman's, and very thin.
"I must have been ill," I said; "but why am I here, and where am I?"