3) Days have passed with little human contact except for meals brought with a reassuring regularity. I can recognize two or three native souls. They knock very quietly. Whether I say 'Come in' or say nothing at all they enter my cabin and place my food on a table held fast against the rough waters. I once said 'Peaches', still they came in. They will not take my tray until everything has been eaten. Or thrown overboard. I think they know I sometimes do this because I will get the same food the next meal. The menu has no relation to morning, noon, or night. So I cannot tell the time.
I feel stronger. I do not believe Dr.Creep is on board. But to find out I shall quietly break a drinking glass and try to shred my wrists just a little. I walk to my bed, crawl under the covers for a bit of private dark, and with the bend of my arm I crush the glass. No sooner does it shatter then I hear fellows, my natives, intrude into the room. They drag me out from under, though with care. No bandages are needed. I laugh. This was only a test; still they restrain me, locking my arms behind my back in metal cuffs. Now I know, Dr.Creep is still on board, protecting me beyond all reason.
I am set at a window. I am fed my meal. Outside I see a severe Cape Horn. Land.