mind that the master of the Spitfire meant to leave me to my fate.
I could not at first believe this to be possible, but finally the thought forced itself home to me. No sooner had it done so than I made every effort to attract the attention of some of the sailors, who, in their panic, had evidently forgotten my existence.
I cried out at the top of my voice, not once, but a number of times. But such was the bustle and confusion on deck that no one heard me, or if they did paid no heed.
Would the captain or Lowell come? Surely, surely, they would not dare to leave me to die on board! But the moments went by, and no one put in an appearance. The captain was going to make certain that nobody should live to tell any tales against him. He had probably discovered that I knew of the plans he and my uncle had concocted.
It was not long before I made an attempt to liberate myself. The cell in which I was confined was built entirely of wood, and the door was not an extra heavy one. But with my hands locked together I was at a disadvantage. Yet terror lent me an artificial strength.
I threw my whole weight against the door, once, twice, thrice. It groaned on its hinges, but that was all. I tried to obtain a purchase upon the floor,
