"Here, my fine fellow, eat whilst thou mayst!" he cried. "Perchance a day may dawn when thou canst not."
"Where am I?" I exclaimed weakly.
"Eat and ask no more questions," he replied. "Our captain will see thee after thou hast eaten."
Without more words I fell to upon the food, and notwithstanding that it was rough fare, I managed to make a good meal of it. My head had ceased to pain me, and while my arm still throbbed and ached, I was beginning to feel like myself again.
I thought of my encounter with the tall stranger of the night before—at least I supposed it was the night before; for although the room in which I was confined was without windows or openings of any kind, and was dark save for the candle, I had seen a gleam of light, as the sailor had opened the door. He was a short, bronzed fellow, with bold, dark eyes, and a sullen face, garbed in the rough clothes of a seaman.
I fumbled in my pocket, and finding a sovereign, drew it out, and extended it to him.
"My man, I would ask thee a question. Wilt answer it?"
At the sight of the gold, the face of the seaman changed. His dark sullen look was replaced by one, which, if not of delight, plainly indicated that he was pleased, and he extended his hand, with a rough, uncouth bow.
"Anything that I know, I will answer, your honor," he said.
"Well, then, where am I?" I asked.