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.