The air in the dungeon felt damp to Ned. He was glad of it, because damp
meant a touch of freshness, but by and by it became chilly, too. The bed
was of two blankets, and, lying on one and drawing the other over him,
he sought sleep. He fell after a while into a troubled slumber which was
half stupor, and from which he awakened at intervals. At the third
awakening he heard a noise. Although his other faculties were deadened
partially by mental and physical exhaustion, his hearing was uncommonly
acute, concentrating in itself the strength lost by the rest. The sound
was peculiar, half a swish and half a roll, and although not loud it
remained steady. Ned listened a long time, and then, all at once, he
recognized its cause.
He was under the sea, and it was the rolling of the waves over his head
that he heard. He was in one of the famous submarine dungeons of the
Castle of San Juan de Ulua. This was the hospitality of Cos and Santa
Anna, and it was a hospitality that would hold him fast. Never would he
take any word of warning to the Texans. Buried under the sea! He
shivered all over and a cold sweat broke out upon him.
He lay a long time until some of the terror passed. Then he sat up, and
looked at the round hole in the cement ceiling.
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