He put his hand in his pocket for a match; there was none; and his clothes felt damp, then a fresh whiskey odor entered his nostrils. "Have I been intoxicated?" The question startled him, but he could not remember taking any liquor. "No; I am sure of that, but why this odor; perhaps this berth has been occupied by some 'drunk'." A feeling of disgust urged him to get out of it at once, and he threw his leg over the side of the berth and stood upright. The pain in the back of his head throbbed so fiercely that he clapped his hand over it, which afforded only temporary relief. He then thought of his handkerchief, which he found in his pocket, and though smelling of whiskey, he bound it about his head. Being now in full possession of his faculties, and feeling strong on his legs, he determined to investigate his quarters. "Oh, for a light!" Again he felt in his pockets for a match and found none, but he discovered that his watch was gone, and a further search revealed that every cent of his money was gone. At this time, in addition to occasional indistinct sounds of the swish of waters against the bow, he heard some tramping about overhead, as by barefooted men, acting seemingly under orders from a hoarse voice farther away. His first impulse was to shout to apprise them of his presence, but on second thought decided to remain silent for a time, or until he could determine their character. So he proceeded to grope around, first extending his foot in different directions, and then his hands. He found three berths, one above the other, and then, fearful of bumping his head against some projecting beam or other obstacle, put out his left hand as a feeler before him, and slowly worked along by the side of the berths. Soon his foot struck something hard, unlike wood, for it appeared to give a little, and putting down his hand, felt it to be a coil of rope. It was in an open space at the end of the berths. A little further his foot struck some wood, and feeling about with his hand, found it was a partition wall. On rounding the partition a very thin ray of light issued from a crevice in front, and then he discovered steps. He crawled up to a door, opened it, and peered out on a pile of lumber. Above it masts towered up into the darkness, with sails hoisted, but unset and flapping lazily to and fro in the wake of the breeze. It was near the dawn, light clouds almost transparent and partly obscuring the moon, drifted along in the sky, while here and there, through openings of deepest blue, glittered countless stars. The air was fresh, too, a little raw and chill, but good to inhale after the dead rank odor from which he had just escaped. An open space in the lumber pile just in front of the forecastle door, and left to facilitate ingress and egress, gave him room to stretch. The light that glimmered faintly through a chink in the door was from a lantern that hung on the fore mast, a few feet above the deck-load of lumber.