CHAPTER 3

The thought instantly occurred to me that the paper was a note

from Augustus, and that some unaccountable accident having

happened to prevent his relieving me from my dungeon, he had

devised this method of acquainting me with the true state of

affairs. Trembling with eagerness, I now commenced another search

for my phosphorus matches and tapers. I had a confused

recollection of having put them carefully away just before

falling asleep; and, indeed, previously to my last journey to the

trap, I had been able to remember the exact spot where I had

deposited them. But now I endeavored in vain to call it to mind,

and busied myself for a full hour in a fruitless and vexatious

search for the missing articles; never, surely, was there a more

tantalizing state of anxiety and suspense. At length, while

groping about, with my head close to the ballast, near the

opening of the box, and outside of it, I perceived a faint

glimmering of light in the direction of the steerage. Greatly

surprised, I endeavored to make my way toward it, as it appeared

to be but a few feet from my position. Scarcely had I moved with

this intention, when I lost sight of the glimmer entirely, and,

before I could bring it into view again, was obliged to feel

along by the box until I had exactly resumed my original

situation. Now, moving my head with caution to and fro, I found

that, by proceeding slowly, with great care, in an opposite

direction to that in which I had at first started, I was enabled

to draw near the light, still keeping it in view. Presently I

came directly upon it (having squeezed my way through innumerable

narrow windings), and found that it proceeded from some fragments

of my matches lying in an empty barrel turned upon its side. I

was wondering how they came in such a place, when my hand fell

upon two or three pieces of taper wax, which had been evidently

mumbled by the dog. I concluded at once that he had devoured the

whole of my supply of candles, and I felt hopeless of being ever

able to read the note of Augustus. The small remnants of the wax

were so mashed up among other rubbish in the barrel, that I

despaired of deriving any service from them, and left them as

they were. The phosphorus, of which there was only a speck or

two, I gathered up as well as I could, and returned with it,

after much difficulty, to my box, where Tiger had all the while

remained.

What to do next I could not tell. The hold was so intensely dark

that I could not see my hand, however close I would hold it to my

face. The white slip of paper could barely be discerned, and not

even that when I looked at it directly; by turning the exterior

portions of the retina toward it—that is to say, by surveying it

slightly askance, I found that it became in some measure

perceptible. Thus the gloom of my prison may be imagined, and the

note of my friend, if indeed it were a note from him, seemed only

likely to throw me into further trouble, by disquieting to no

purpose my already enfeebled and agitated mind. In vain I

revolved in my brain a multitude of absurd expedients for

procuring light—such expedients precisely as a man in the

perturbed sleep occasioned by opium would be apt to fall upon for

a similar purpose—each and all of which appear by turns to the

dreamer the most reasonable and the most preposterous of

conceptions, just as the reasoning or imaginative faculties

flicker, alternately, one above the other. At last an idea

occurred to me which seemed rational, and which gave me cause to

wonder, very justly, that I had not entertained it before. I

placed the slip of paper on the back of a book, and, collecting

the fragments of the phosphorus matches which I had brought from

the barrel, laid them together upon the paper. I then, with the

palm of my hand, rubbed the whole over quickly, yet steadily. A

clear light diffused itself immediately throughout the whole

surface; and had there been any writing upon it, I should not

have experienced the least difficulty, I am sure, in reading it.

Not a syllable was there, however—nothing but a dreary and

unsatisfactory blank; the illumination died away in a few

seconds, and my heart died away within me as it went.

I have before stated more than once that my intellect, for some

period prior to this, had been in a condition nearly bordering on

idiocy. There were, to be sure, momentary intervals of perfect

sanity, and, now and then, even of energy; but these were few. It

must be remembered that I had been, for many days certainly,

inhaling the almost pestilential atmosphere of a close hold in a

whaling vessel, and for a long portion of that time but scantily

supplied with water. For the last fourteen or fifteen hours I had

none—nor had I slept during that time. Salt provisions of the

most exciting kind had been my chief, and, indeed, since the loss

of the mutton, my only supply of food, with the exception of the

sea-biscuit; and these latter were utterly useless to me, as they

were too dry and hard to be swallowed in the swollen and parched

condition of my throat. I was now in a high state of fever, and

in every respect exceedingly ill. This will account for the fact

that many miserable hours of despondency elapsed after my last

adventure with the phosphorus, before the thought suggested

itself that I had examined only one side of the paper. I shall

not attempt to describe my feelings of rage (for I believe I was

more angry than any thing else) when the egregious oversight I

had committed flashed suddenly upon my perception. The blunder

itself would have been unimportant, had not my own folly and

impetuosity rendered it otherwise—in my disappointment at not

finding some words upon the slip, I had childishly torn it in

pieces and thrown it away, it was impossible to say where.

From the worst part of this dilemma I was relieved by the

sagacity of Tiger. Having got, after a long search, a small piece

of the note, I put it to the dog’s nose, and endeavored to make

him understand that he must bring me the rest of it. To my

astonishment, (for I had taught him none of the usual tricks for

which his breed are famous,) he seemed to enter at once into my

meaning, and, rummaging about for a few moments, soon found

another considerable portion. Bringing me this, he paused awhile,

and, rubbing his nose against my hand, appeared to be waiting for

my approval of what he had done. I patted him on the head, when

he immediately made off again. It was now some minutes before he

came back—but when he did come, he brought with him a large slip,

which proved to be all the paper missing—it having been torn, it

seems, only into three pieces. Luckily, I had no trouble in

finding what few fragments of the phosphorus were left—being

guided by the indistinct glow one or two of the particles still

emitted. My difficulties had taught me the necessity of caution,

and I now took time to reflect upon what I was about to do. It

was very probable, I considered, that some words were written

upon that side of the paper which had not been examined—but which

side was that? Fitting the pieces together gave me no clew in

this respect, although it assured me that the words (if there

were any) would be found all on one side, and connected in a

proper manner, as written. There was the greater necessity of

ascertaining the point in question beyond a doubt, as the

phosphorus remaining would be altogether insufficient for a third

attempt, should I fail in the one I was now about to make. I

placed the paper on a book as before, and sat for some minutes

thoughtfully revolving the matter over in my mind. At last I

thought it barely possible that the written side might have some

unevenness on its surface, which a delicate sense of feeling

might enable me to detect. I determined to make the experiment

and passed my finger very carefully over the side which first

presented itself. Nothing, however, was perceptible, and I turned

the paper, adjusting it on the book. I now again carried my

forefinger cautiously along, when I was aware of an exceedingly

slight, but still discernable glow, which followed as it

proceeded. This, I knew, must arise from some very minute

remaining particles of the phosphorus with which I had covered

the paper in my previous attempt. The other, or under side, then,

was that on which lay the writing, if writing there should

finally prove to be. Again I turned the note, and went to work as

I had previously done. Having rubbed in the phosphorus, a

brilliancy ensued as before—but this time several lines of MS. in

a large hand, and apparently in red ink, became distinctly

visible. The glimmer, although sufficiently bright, was but

momentary. Still, had I not been too greatly excited, there would

have been ample time enough for me to peruse the whole three

sentences before me—for I saw there were three. In my anxiety,

however, to read all at once, I succeeded only in reading the

seven concluding words, which thus appeared—“blood—your life

depends upon lying close.”

Had I been able to ascertain the entire contents of the note—the

full meaning of the admonition which my friend had thus attempted

to convey, that admonition, even although it should have revealed

a story of disaster the most unspeakable, could not, I am firmly

convinced, have imbued my mind with one tithe of the harrowing

and yet indefinable horror with which I was inspired by the

fragmentary warning thus received. And “blood,” too, that word of

all words—so rife at all times with mystery, and suffering, and

terror—how trebly full of import did it now appear—how chilly and

heavily (disjointed, as it thus was, from any foregoing words to

qualify or render it distinct) did its vague syllables fall, amid

the deep gloom of my prison, into the innermost recesses of my

soul!

Augustus had, undoubtedly, good reasons for wishing me to remain

concealed, and I formed a thousand surmises as to what they could

be—but I could think of nothing affording a satisfactory solution

of the mystery. Just after returning from my last journey to the

trap, and before my attention had been otherwise directed by the

singular conduct of Tiger, I had come to the resolution of making

myself heard at all events by those on board, or, if I could not

succeed in this directly, of trying to cut my way through the

orlop deck. The half certainty which I felt of being able to

accomplish one of these two purposes in the last emergency, had

given me courage (which I should not otherwise have had) to

endure the evils of my situation. The few words I had been able

to read, however, had cut me off from these final resources, and

I now, for the first time, felt all the misery of my fate. In a

paroxysm of despair I threw myself again upon the mattress,

where, for about the period of a day and night, I lay in a kind

of stupor, relieved only by momentary intervals of reason and

recollection.

At length I once more arose, and busied myself in reflection upon

the horrors which encompassed me. For another twenty-four hours

it was barely possible that I might exist without water—for a

longer time I could not do so. During the first portion of my

imprisonment I had made free use of the cordials with which

Augustus had supplied me, but they only served to excite fever,

without in the least degree assuaging thirst. I had now only

about a gill left, and this was of a species of strong peach

liqueur at which my stomach revolted. The sausages were entirely

consumed; of the ham nothing remained but a small piece of the

skin; and all the biscuit, except a few fragments of one, had

been eaten by Tiger. To add to my troubles, I found that my

headache was increasing momentarily, and with it the species of

delirium which had distressed me more or less since my first

falling asleep. For some hours past it had been with the greatest

difficulty I could breathe at all, and now each attempt at so

doing was attended with the most depressing spasmodic action of

the chest. But there was still another and very different source

of disquietude, and one, indeed, whose harassing terrors had been

the chief means of arousing me to exertion from my stupor on the

mattress. It arose from the demeanor of the dog.

I first observed an alteration in his conduct while rubbing in

the phosphorus on the paper in my last attempt. As I rubbed, he

ran his nose against my hand with a slight snarl; but I was too

greatly excited at the time to pay much attention to the

circumstance. Soon afterward, it will be remembered, I threw

myself on the mattress, and fell into a species of lethargy.

Presently I became aware of a singular hissing sound close at my

ears, and discovered it to proceed from Tiger, who was panting

and wheezing in a state of the greatest apparent excitement, his

eyeballs flashing fiercely through the gloom. I spoke to him,

when he replied with a low growl, and then remained quiet.

Presently I relapsed into my stupor, from which I was again

awakened in a similar manner. This was repeated three or four

times, until finally his behaviour inspired me with so great a

degree of fear, that I became fully aroused. He was now lying

close by the door of the box, snarling fearfully, although in a

kind of undertone, and grinding his teeth as if strongly

convulsed. I had no doubt whatever that the want of water or the

confined atmosphere of the hold had driven him mad, and I was at

a loss what course to pursue. I could not endure the thought of

killing him, yet it seemed absolutely necessary for my own

safety. I could distinctly perceive his eyes fastened upon me

with an expression of the most deadly animosity, and I expected

every instant that he would attack me. At last I could endure my

terrible situation no longer, and determined to make my way from

the box at all hazards, and dispatch him, if his opposition

should render it necessary for me to do so. To get out, I had to

pass directly over his body, and he already seemed to anticipate

my design—missing himself upon his fore-legs (as I perceived by

the altered position of his eyes), and displayed the whole of his

white fangs, which were easily discernible. I took the remains of

the ham-skin, and the bottle containing the liqueur, and secured

them about my person, together with a large carving-knife which

Augustus had left me—then, folding my cloak around me as closely

as possible, I made a movement toward the mouth of the box. No

sooner did I do this, than the dog sprang with a loud growl

toward my throat. The whole weight of his body struck me on the

right shoulder, and I fell violently to the left, while the

enraged animal passed entirely over me. I had fallen upon my

knees, with my head buried among the blankets, and these

protected me from a second furious assault, during which I felt

the sharp teeth pressing vigorously upon the woollen which

enveloped my neck—yet, luckily, without being able to penetrate

all the folds. I was now beneath the dog, and a few moments would

place me completely in his power. Despair gave me strength, and I

rose boldly up, shaking him from me by main force, and dragging

with me the blankets from the mattress. These I now threw over

him, and before he could extricate himself, I had got through the

door and closed it effectually against his pursuit. In this

struggle, however, I had been forced to drop the morsel of

ham-skin, and I now found my whole stock of provisions reduced to

a single gill of liqueur. As this reflection crossed my mind, I

felt myself actuated by one of those fits of perverseness which

might be supposed to influence a spoiled child in similar

circumstances, and, raising the bottle to my lips, I drained it

to the last drop, and dashed it furiously upon the floor.

Scarcely had the echo of the crash died away, when I heard my

name pronounced in an eager but subdued voice, issuing from the

direction of the steerage. So unexpected was anything of the

kind, and so intense was the emotion excited within me by the

sound, that I endeavoured in vain to reply. My powers of speech

totally failed, and in an agony of terror lest my friend should

conclude me dead, and return without attempting to reach me, I

stood up between the crates near the door of the box, trembling

convulsively, and gasping and struggling for utterance. Had a

thousand words depended upon a syllable, I could not have spoken

it. There was a slight movement now audible among the lumber

somewhere forward of my station. The sound presently grew less

distinct, then again less so, and still less. Shall I ever forget

my feelings at this moment? He was going—my friend, my companion,

from whom I had a right to expect so much—he was going—he would

abandon me—he was gone! He would leave me to perish miserably, to

expire in the most horrible and loathesome of dungeons—and one

word, one little syllable, would save me—yet that single syllable

I could not utter! I felt, I am sure, more than ten thousand

times the agonies of death itself. My brain reeled, and I fell,

deadly sick, against the end of the box.

As I fell the carving-knife was shaken out from the waist-band of

my pantaloons, and dropped with a rattling sound to the floor.

Never did any strain of the richest melody come so sweetly to my

ears! With the intensest anxiety I listened to ascertain the

effect of the noise upon Augustus—for I knew that the person who

called my name could be no one but himself. All was silent for

some moments. At length I again heard the word “Arthur!” repeated

in a low tone, and one full of hesitation. Reviving hope loosened

at once my powers of speech, and I now screamed at the top of my

voice, “Augustus! oh, Augustus!” “Hush! for God’s sake be

silent!” he replied, in a voice trembling with agitation; “I will

be with you immediately—as soon as I can make my way through the

hold.” For a long time I heard him moving among the lumber, and

every moment seemed to me an age. At length I felt his hand upon

my shoulder, and he placed, at the same moment, a bottle of water

to my lips. Those only who have been suddenly redeemed from the

jaws of the tomb, or who have known the insufferable torments of

thirst under circumstances as aggravated as those which

encompassed me in my dreary prison, can form any idea of the

unutterable transports which that one long draught of the richest

of all physical luxuries afforded.

When I had in some degree satisfied my thirst, Augustus produced

from his pocket three or four boiled potatoes, which I devoured

with the greatest avidity. He had brought with him a light in a

dark lantern, and the grateful rays afforded me scarcely less

comfort than the food and drink. But I was impatient to learn the

cause of his protracted absence, and he proceeded to recount what

had happened on board during my incarceration.