Morning came slowly down to us after an apparent year of night, and with it some relief, for we were given something to eat and drink. Weevilly bread, greenish salt-horse, and water that smelt unhealthy do not make a meal that is inviting, but we ate it. After it had been passed in to us through the entrance we heard a banging and clattering, and found they were nailing up this mode of ingress. Our next meal was lowered to us through the circular opening overhead. It was but a foot or so in diameter, and thus we were bottled up, as it were, like flies in a jug. On this day Mackie was very low, and we all thought like to die. I doubt very much if any of us could have lived many days in that foul, close place, but we had to stand it some time longer, and the way out of it was like this: The third day, at about noon, we heard the stirring and trampling of feet and the confused muttering of voices. I swarmed up the cable until my head was close to the opening, and there I listened. They were casting loose a gun and dealing out powder and shot--I could make that clearly out. But now I heard the sounds of conversation close to me. "It's the _Constitution_," said a voice; "at least they say so up on deck." "Then we're in for it," was the reply. "I've heard tell, messmate, that she's a sixty-gun ship in disguise." "How far off is she?" was the question. "About six miles off the larboard bow. Here, you can see her from the port." "What's going on up there?" asked Sutton from below. "They say we have sighted a ship, the _Constitution_; and they're clearing decks for action," I answered. "The _Constitution_!" exclaimed Brown. "Then we're free men. Cheer up, my hearties!" Sutton's reply to this startled me so that I almost slid down the cable. Three roaring huzzas broke from him, in which the others joined. Soon I felt the swaying of my support, and I saw that the quarter gunner was climbing up to me. It was a crawl of some ten feet. "It's a good thing, Debrin, that we are below water if we get to bandying shot, I tell you. See how she raked the _Guerrière_." Sutton chuckled. But we could understand nothing from the confusion of sounds, until all at once I heard a voice I recognized speaking close to me. I knew the tones before I caught the words. It was Captain Hilton. In whatever he was saying I interrupted him. [Illustration: "OH, CAPTAIN HILTON," I CRIED. "WE'VE A DYING MAN DOWN HERE."] "Oh, Captain Hilton," I cried, "for Heaven's sake, help us! We've a dying man down here." "Who's that speaking?" questioned the Captain. "The prisoners in the chain-hold, sir." I heard the answer given in a gruff tone, but most politely. "That is no place for them," said Hilton, angrily, "and I thought I gave orders--" The rest of his speech I did not catch, for a roller hand-spike rumbled on deck in such a way as to drown it, but I thought I detected some expostulation from the other voice.