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  CHAPTER FORTY SIX.

  THE BALE OF LINEN.

  My sleep was neither very sweet nor very sound. In addition to mygloomy prospects, I was rendered uncomfortable by the hot atmosphere,now closer than ever, in consequence of the stoppage of every aperture.No current of air, that might otherwise have cooled me, was permitted toreach my prison, and I might almost as well have been inside a heatedoven. I got a little sleep, however, and with that little I was underthe necessity of being satisfied.

  When fairly awake again, I treated myself to a meal, which might becalled my breakfast; but it was certainly the lightest of allbreakfasts, and did not deserve the name. Of water I again drankfreely, for I was thirsty with the fever that was in my blood, and myhead ached as if it would split open.

  All this did not deter me from returning to my work. If two boxescontained broadcloth, it did not follow that all the cargo was of thissort of merchandise, and I resolved to persevere. I had made up my mindto try in a new direction--that is, to tunnel through the end of thepacking-case as I had done through its side--the end which was turnedtowards the outside--for I knew that the other rested against the sideof the ship, and it would be no use searching in that direction.

  Taking my bread-bag with me as before, I went to work with renewed hope,and after long and severe labour--severe on account of the crouchingattitude I had to keep, as also from the pain caused by my woundedthumb--I succeeded in detaching one of the end pieces from its place.

  Something _soft_ lay beyond. There was encouragement even in this. Atall events, it was not another case of broadcloth; but what it was, Icould not guess until I had laid bare the full breadth of the board.Then my hands were eagerly passed through the aperture, and withtrembling fingers I examined this new object of interest. Coarse canvasit appeared to the touch; but that was only the covering. What wasthere inside?

  Until I had taken up my knife again, and cut off a portion of thecanvas, I knew not what it was; but then, to my bitter disappointment,the real nature of the package was revealed.

  It proved to be _linen_--a bale of fine linen, packed in pieces, just asthe cloth had been; but so tight that if I had used all my strength Icould not have detached one piece from the bale.

  The discovery of what it was, caused me greater chagrin than if it hadproved to be broadcloth. This I could take out with less difficulty,and make way to try farther on; but with the linen I could do nothing,for, after several attempts, I was unable to move any of the pieces, andas to cutting a way through them, a wall of adamant would scarce havebeen more impervious to the blade of my knife. It would have been thework of a week at least. My provision would not keep me alive till Ihad reached the other side. But I did not speculate on such aperformance. It was too manifestly impossible, and I turned away fromit without giving it another thought.

  For a little while I remained inactive, considering what should be mynext movement. I did not rest long. Time was too precious to be wastedin mere reflection. Action alone could save me; and, spurred on by thisthought, I was soon at work again.

  My new design was simply to clear out the cloth from the second box, cutthrough its farther side, and find out what lay in that direction.

  As I had already made a way into the box, the first thing was to removethe cloth. For the time my knife was laid aside, and I commencedpulling out the pieces. It was no light labour, getting out the firstthree or four. Unfortunately, the ends of the webs were towards me, andthis rendered it more difficult to separate them; but I continued to tugand pull until I had extracted a few; and then the work became easier.

  Just as in the other case, I found large coarse pieces that would notpass through the aperture I had made; and not liking to take the painsto make a wider opening in the wood, I adopted the same plan I had triedbefore; that is, to cut the cloth loose from its fastenings, unroll it,and draw it out by the yard.

  This was easier, I thought; but, alas! it proved the source of a new andunexpected dilemma, as I had occasion soon after to perceive.

  I was getting on well enough, and had succeeded in clearing out a spacealmost large enough to work in, when I was suddenly brought to a stop,by finding that I had no room for any more cloth _behind me_! The wholeof the open space--including my little apartment, the biscuit-box, andthe other case--was quite full, for I had filled each in succession as Iwent along. There was not a foot of space left--not so much as wouldhold another web!

  This discovery did not create an immediate alarm; for I did not at firstperceive the full consequence of it. It was only after a littlereflection, that I recognised the difficulty; and then I saw that it wasindeed a difficulty--a very dangerous dilemma.

  It was plain that I could proceed no farther in my work without clearingoff the "back-water" that I had so thoughtlessly accumulated; and howwas this to be done? I could not destroy the cloth by burning, nor inany other way that I could think of. I could not lessen its bulk, for Ihad already pressed it together as closely as I had strength. How,then, was it to be disposed of?

  I now perceived the imprudence I had committed in unrolling the webs.This was the cause of its having increased so in bulk though notaltogether, for the very taking out of the pieces--on account of thetight pressure they had originally undergone while being packed in thecases--of itself greatly enlarged their mass. To restore them to thestate in which I had found them, was no longer possible. They werelittered through and through in the most complete confusion, and I hadno room to work in, even to refold them again, since I could scarce moveabout in the constrained quarters and attitude I was compelled toassume. Even had I had ample space to work in, I could not easily havegot the stuff back to a suitable bulk; for the coarser material, elasticas it was, would have required a screw-press to bring it to its formersize. I felt quite disheartened as I thought the thing over--more thandisheartened, again almost despairing.

  But, no! it had not yet reached the point of despair with me. Bygetting enough space for another piece or two, I should have room to cuta hole through the opposite side of the box, and there was still hopebeyond. If, indeed, another case of broadcloth, or another bale oflinen, should be found there, it would then be time to yield myself upto despair.

  But hope in the human breast is hard to destroy, and it was so in mine.So long as there is life, thought I, let there be hope; and, inspiredwith the old proverb, I renewed my exertions.

  After awhile, I succeeded in stowing away two more pieces; and this gaveme just room to creep inside the now nearly empty box, and go to workagain with my knife.

  This time I had to cut the board across the middle, as the cloth on bothsides would not permit me to get at either end. It made littledifference, however; and when I had finished carving at the wood, I wasable to push out both sections, and make an aperture sufficient for mypurpose. I say sufficient for my purpose, for it only needed a holelarge enough to admit my hand; and, once protruding my fingers, I wassatisfied, as before, with a most melancholy result. _Another bale oflinen_!

  Fatigued and faint, I could have fallen, had it been possible to falllower; but I was already upon my face, alike prostrate in body and soul!