She felt hideously unwell – an unsual and unwelcome state for Lady Catherine, who, all her life, had enjoyed excellent health, so much so that the sting of a bee or a touch of indigestion were the severest ills she had ever suffered. Now her bones ached, she seemed to be covered with bruises and abrasions from head to foot, a hammer beat inside her skull, and yet, despite these various afflictions, she was consumed by ravenous hunger. ‘Where am I?’ she said aloud, expecting an instant response. But none came. She tried to move. But the effort cost her such an assault of pain in every portion of her anatomy that once more she lost consciousness. This second faint passed into a more normal slumber from which she presently awoke, and once more called out, ‘Where am I? Who is there?’ Still she received no answer. At last, with an immense effort, she pushed herself upright into a sitting posture, and looked about her. She had been, she now discovered, lying in a ship’s hammock made of rope netting.
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