I felt stronger and more comfortable. The ship plunged softly; I heard no roaring of the brine outside, no blows as from the shock of thunderbolts; I guessed that the weather was fair and gentle; but was it night or day? I could not imagine. I had figured the high sun pouring upon the white canvas and the sea blue and splendid under him, and in that deep, vault-like blackness I’d pant for the sweetness of the air above and yearn but for ten minutes of the glory of the day. Then, in the same breath, I’d think ‘It may be midnight. The sun has sunk, and a thousand stars tremble over the mastheads, and a corner of moon is lifting out of a length of ragged, black cloud hanging low over the blacker water.’
When would it be time for me to beat upon the hatch and take my chance of what was then to follow? In any case, I dared not reveal myself till Will gave me notice, for how should I be able to tell where the ship was—whether she was not still close in with the English shore, so that the captain could land me, end my scheme, and render all I have done and suffered useless? I must be patient; better that Will should make no sign for a month than that I should emerge one hour too soon.
The time crept on. I heard an occasional movement of feet overhead, but all the noises were small and brief. Indeed, it was the ship’s forecastle, the place where the sailors ate, drank, and slept; where, unless all hands are on deck, there is always a watch below and consequently sleepers; so that when the voyage has fairly begun and the men have settled down to their work, there is no quieter place in a ship than her forecastle.
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME
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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.