Black Bartlemys Treasure

And now within my gloomy hiding-place, dim-lit by flickering lanthorn, I passed many weary hours, while all about me was a stir and bustle, a confused sound made up of many, as the never-ending tread of feet, the sound of hoarse voices now faint and far and anon clear and loud, the scrape of a fiddle, snatches of rough song, the ceaseless ring and tap of hammers--a very babel that, telling of life and action, made my gloomy prison the harder to endure. And here (mindful of what is to follow) I do think it well to describe in few words the place wherein I lay. It was indeed a very dog-hole, just below the orlop, some ten feet square (or thereabouts) shut in 'twixt bulkheads, mighty solid and strong, but with a crazy door so ill-hung as to leave a good three inches 'twixt it and the flooring. It had been a store-room (as I guessed), and judging by the reek that reached me above the stench of the bilge, had of late held rancid fat of some sort; just abaft the mizzen it lay and hard against the massy rudder-post, for I could hear the creek and groan of the pintles as the rudder swung to the tide. Against one bulkhead I had contrived a rough bunk with divers planks and barrels, the which with mattress and bedding was well enough.

Now opposite my berth, within easy reach of my hand, was a knot-hole the which, by some trick of the grain, had much the look of a great staring eye, insomuch that (having no better employ) I fell to improving on nature's handiwork with my knife, carving and trimming around it; and in betwixt my sleeping, my eating and drinking (for Adam and Godby kept me excellent well supplied) I would betake me to my carving and fashioning of this eye and with my initials below it, the which foolish business (fond and futile though it was) served in no small measure to abate my consuming impatience and the dreary tedium.

Howbeit on the third day, my situation becoming unbearable, I stumbled out from my dog-hole, and groping my way past kegs and barrels firm-wedged in place against the rolling of the vessel, I climbed the ladder to the orlop. Here I must needs pause, for, dim though it was, the light from the open scuttle nigh blinded me. In a while, my eyes growing strong, I got me to the main-deck, where again I must stay to shade my eyes by reason of the radiance that poured through an open gun-port. Glancing around after some while, I saw no one and wondered, for here was the main gun-deck. Ten great pieces a side I counted, with ports for divers more. I was yet wondering at the emptiness about me when I heard sudden uproar from the deck above my head, shouts, cries, a rush and patter of many feet, and above all Penfeather's furious hail.