[CHAPTER IV.--A NEW FRIEND.]
How long Budd remained unconscious he never exactly knew. It must have been some hours, however, for when he recovered sufficiently to look about him it was night; at least a darkness almost thick enough to be felt was all around him. He could hear the wind whistling fiercely above his head, yet he felt it not. He could hear the sound of dashing waves but faintly, as though some distance away. He was evidently lying upon a hard board or floor; yet to it there was a gentle, undulating motion, like that of a boat in some sheltered harbor, or drawn, bow up, onto a sandy beach.
With difficulty he sat up. His clothes were heavy with water, and he was stiff and numb from cold and exposure. He put out his right hand, and it rested upon a short board partition; he stretched out his left hand, and it touched a similar one, about the same distance away. Then he knew he was in the body of his ox-cart, which had in some way become detached from its wheels. It must have been this into which he had been providentially thrown just as he had lost consciousness. But where was the cart-body?
Certainly it was no longer tossed about by the angry waters of the bay. Where, then, had it landed? He rose up, and his head came so forcibly in contact with a heavy planking that he was thrown off his feet. Rubbing the bruised spot tenderly, he crept along to the side of the cart-bed and put out his hand as far as possible; but it touched nothing. Slowly stepping ever the side, he found himself standing in a few inches of water. Walking directly ahead a few steps, he came up against a solid wall, that extended either way farther than he could reach.
He now knew that he was under some wharf, where the waves had tossed the cart-bed. This accounted for the planking above his head, for his hearing the whistling wind without feeling it, for the sound of the dashing of the waves at such a distance from him, and for the heavy darkness settled around. But what wharf was it? Which way should he go to find the opening by which he had entered?
He straightened himself up and looked steadily first in one and then in an opposite direction. He soon became convinced that to the left he could see a little more clearly than to the right, and that it was from that direction that came what little air he could feel stirring. In that direction, then, he determined to go.
As he advanced the water deepened, and the roof became more elevated. Not only could he now stand erect, but the planking was higher above his head than he could reach. Soon the stone wall ceased, and wooden piles heavily boarded took its place. Now he saw a light space just ahead; the wind fanned his cheek; the opening was not far off; but the water was up to his neck, and he must swim for it. A few strokes, and he was in the open air. It was very dark, yet not with the intenseness he had experienced under the wharf. The wind and the rain beat fiercely upon him. Unless some house were near, he had better return under the dock for shelter and wait for morning.
With the little strength that remained to him he drew himself up onto the wharf and looked anxiously about him. As he looked, a great hope sprung up within his heart. Not far away, and gleaming brightly through the thick darkness, was a light. With a hoarse cry of exultation he staggered to his feet and went toward it. Brief as the walk was, it exhausted him. He was afraid that he would not reach the house from whose window he now knew the light shone forth, and in his despair he shouted:
"Help! Help!"
The next instant the door of the building swung open, letting out a flood of light upon the exhausted lad, and a voice asked: