Yes, my eyes were once more cheered with heavenly light, producing
within my heart a joy sudden and complete. I could not describe the
happiness I felt. Every fear at once forsook me. I had no longer the
slightest apprehension. I was saved!
The light I saw was but a very slender beam--a mere ray--that appeared
to penetrate through a crack between two planks. It was above me, not
vertically above me, but rather in a diagonal line, and apparently about
eight or ten feet distant.
I knew it could not be through the deck that the light came. There are
no open spaces between the planks of a ship's deck. It must be through
the hatchway; and very likely the crack I saw was through the boarding
of the hatch, at a place where the tarpaulin might be off or torn.
While gazing on this tiny beam, shining like a meteor above me, I
thought it the loveliest object I had ever looked upon. No star in the
blue sky had ever appeared to me half so brilliant or beautiful; it was
like the eye of some good angel smiling upon me, and bidding me welcome
again to the world of life.
I did not remain long in my position within the bonnet-box. I believed
myself near the end of my labour, and the accomplishment of my hopes,
and had no inclination to pause upon the threshold of deliverance. The
nearer to the goal, the more earnest had I become to reach it; and
therefore, without further hesitation, I set about widening the aperture
already made in the lid of the box.
The fact of my seeing the light had convinced me of one important truth,
and that was that I had reached the top of the cargo. Since it appeared
in a diagonal direction, there could be no boxes or other packages
intervening between it and my eyes, and, therefore, the space was empty.
This emptiness could only be above the cargo.
But the matter was soon set at rest. It did not take me twenty minutes
to widen a hole big enough to pass my body; and, scarcely waiting to
make this of sufficient size, I squeezed myself through, and wriggled
out on to the top of the box.
I lifted my arms over my head, and extended them all around me. Only
behind could I perceive anything--and there I could feel boxes, and
bales, and sacks piled up still higher--but in front there was nothing
but empty air.
I remained for some moments seated on the lid of the box, where I had
climbed out, with my legs hanging down outside of it. I was cautious
not to step off, lest I might fall into some great cavity. I remained
gazing upon the beautiful beacon that was now shining still nearer to my
face.
Gradually my eyes became accustomed to the light; and, though the chink
admitted only a few slender rays, I began to perceive the forms of
objects that were near. I soon made out that the empty space did not
extend far. It was a little pit, of an irregular, circular form--a sort
of amphitheatre, shut in on all sides by the huge packages of
merchandise that were piled around it. It was, in fact, a space that
had been left under the hatchway, after the cargo had been all stowed;
and a number of loose barrels and bags that were strewed over it
appeared to contain provisions--no doubt stores for the crew--thus
placed so that they could be readily reached when wanted.
It was on one side of this little amphitheatre I had emerged from my
gallery; and no doubt I was just under the edge of the hatchway. It
only needed to advance a pace or two, knock upon the boards over my
head, and summon the crew to my assistance.
But although a single blow, and a single cry, were all that were needed
to procure my liberation, it was a long while before I could muster the
resolution to strike that blow, or utter that cry!
I need not give you the reasons of my reluctance and hesitation. Think
only of what was behind me--of the damage and ruin I had caused to the
cargo--a damage amounting perhaps to hundreds of pounds--think of the
impossibility of my being able to make the slightest restitution or
payment--think of this, and you will comprehend why I paused so long,
seated upon the edge of the bonnet-box. An awful dread was upon me. I
dreaded the _denouement_ of this _dark_ drama; and no wonder I hesitated
to bring it to its ending.
How could I ever face the stern wrath of the captain?--the brutal anger
of that savage mate? How could I endure their looks--their words, their
oaths, and, likely enough, their blows? Perhaps they would _pitch me
into the sea_?
A thrill of terror ran through my veins, as I dwelt on the probability
of such a fate. A sudden change had passed over my spirits. But the
moment before that twinkling ray had filled my bosom with joy; and now,
as I sat and gazed upon it, my heart was throbbing with fear and dismay!