I looked long and eagerly at the boiling surf and the weather-beaten cliffs which stretched far away in each direction. I watched the breakers as they hurled themselves on the rocks far, far down beneath me. The sight filled me with dull despair.
I tried to open the window, but it was fastened firmly. After repeated efforts, however, I managed to remove it about three inches from the frame, but I could not move it more owing to the iron bars that had been placed across. The fresh air blew in from the sea, which gave me great pleasure; it also cleared my mind somewhat, and acting on the impulse of the moment I tied my handkerchief to the iron bar. I did not see how it could do any good, but it could do no harm, and might possibly attract attention.
I looked again at the great waste of water, and marked the tumultuous tossing of the waves, and then I closed the window again, feeling that I could do nothing to effect my liberty.
I went back to my bed again and began to consider my condition. My mind for the moment seemed clear, and I was able to understand my position, and all the events I have related came back to my memory. Then I remembered that I always became dazed and drowsy after drinking the medicine which was given me. A torpor always crept over me, and I was incapable of definite action. This made me wonder still more.
I heard the sound of footsteps echoing along a passage, and a minute later the little old man I have mentioned came to me.
"It is time for you to have your medicine," he said.
Hitherto I had drunk it without demur; now I determined to avoid taking it.
"I will attend to it presently," I said, "but for the present I want us to talk together. I suppose you know you are placing yourself in great danger by keeping me here?"
He was silent.