The sounds that woke him were those of feet moving to and fro in the captain's cabin overhead, and, far forward in the ship, the clatter of boots as the soldiers turned out.

He looked about him and made two discoveries.
In the first place, his two drunken companions had vanished, or had been removed; and secondly, their place was taken by a loaf and a tin pannikin.
He reached out a hand for these, and began without hesitation the first meal in his life of which the green volumes were to keep no record.

With less hunger he might have found it nauseous; for the bread was incredibly mouldy and had been gnawed all round the crust by rats, while the liquor in the pannikin was a mixture of fiery rum and unclean water.

The first gulp fetched the tears; but, after sputtering a bit, he managed to swallow a good half of it.

As he breakfasted he heard a deal of muffled shouting above, and then a distant clanking sound that was unfamiliar.