I started suddenly up, thinking I had caught hold of my knife--while half conscious of what I was doing--for I remembered that I had thrown it with open blade beside me. In a second or two, however, I was convinced that it was not that which had caused me the pain. It was not a wound made with cold steel, but with the venomous tooth of a living creature. I had been bitten by a rat! My lethargic indifference to my situation soon passed away, and was succeeded by a keen sense of fear. I was now convinced, more than ever, that my life was in danger from these hideous animals; for this was the first actual attempt they had made upon my person _without provocation_. Although my sudden movement, and the loud cries I involuntarily uttered, had once more driven them off, I felt satisfied they would become bolder anon, and take no heed of such idle demonstrations. I had threatened them too often, without making them feel my power to punish them. Clearly it would not do to go to sleep again, with my person exposed to their attacks; for although my hopes of ultimate deliverance were now sadly diminished, and in all likelihood starvation was to be my fate, still this kind of death was preferable to being eaten up by rats. The very thought of such a fate filled me with horror, and determined me to do all in my power to save myself from so fearful a doom. I was now very tired, and required rest. The box was large enough for me to have slept within it, stretched at full length; but I thought I could more easily defend myself against the encroachments of the rats in my old quarters; and, taking up my knife and bundle, I crawled back behind the butt. My little chamber was now of much smaller dimensions, for in it I had stowed the cloth taken from the box. In fact, there was just room enough for my body and the bag of crumbs--so that it was more like a nest than an apartment. With the pieces of cloth piled in one end against the brandy-cask, I was well defended in that quarter, and it only remained to close up the other end as I had done before. This I accomplished; and then, after eating my slender supper, and washing it down with copious libations, I sought the repose, both of body and mind, of which I stood in such need. CHAPTER FORTY SIX. THE BALE OF LINEN. My sleep was neither very sweet nor very sound. In addition to my gloomy 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 to reach my prison, and I might almost as well have been inside a heated oven. I got a little sleep, however, and with that little I was under the necessity of being satisfied.