98 FOR THE FLAG

me that the vessel, after remaining stationary from the
night before, was again in motion—probably in some
deserted creek on the coast, since I had not felt the shocks
that accompany the operation of anchoring.

It was then six o’clock, when I heard steps behind the
iron partition. Was somebody coming in? Yes; I heard
the grating of the lock, and the door opened. The light
of a lantern dispelled the profound darkness in which I
had been plunged since my arrival on board. Two men
appeared, but I had no time to observe their faces. They
seized me by the arms and covered my head with a thick
wrapper, so that it was impossible for me to see anything.

What was the meaning of this precaution? What were
they going to do with me? I tried to struggle, but they
held me firmly. I asked questions, but I could get no
answer, The men exchanged some words in a language
I did not understand.

They showed me very little consideration. But why
should they trouble themselves about so inferior a person
as a keeper in a lunatic asylum? Still, I am not quite
sure that Simon Hart the engineer would have fared
better at their hands.

This time, however, they did not gag me. They
contented themselves with holding me tightly, and I could
not escape.

An instant afterwards I was dragged out of the iron den,
and pushed through a narrow passage. Under my feet
I felt the steps of a metal ladder. Then a keen air struck
my face, and behind the wrapper I breathed eagerly.