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.  It was about eight inches in diameter and a considerable stream of fresh air entered there.  But the pipe or other channel through which it came must turn to one side, as the sea was directly over his head.  He could not reach the hole, and even could he have reached it, he was too large to pass through it.  He had merely looked at it in a kind of vague curiosity.

Feeling that every attempt to solve anything would be hopeless, he fell asleep again, and when he awoke a man with a lantern was standing beside him.  It was a soldier with his food, the ordinary Mexican fare, and water.  Another soldier with a musket stood at the door.  There was no possible chance of a dash for liberty.  Ned ate and drank hungrily, and asked the soldier questions, but the man replied only in monosyllables or not at all.  The boy desisted and finished in silence the meal which might be either breakfast, dinner or supper for all he knew.  Then the soldier took the tin dishes, withdrew with his comrade, and the door was locked again.

Ned was left to silence and solitude.  But he felt that he must now move about, have action of some kind.  He threw himself against the door in an effort to shake it, but it did not move a jot.  Then he remembered that he had seen cell doors in a row, and that other prisoners might be on either side of him.  He kicked the heavy cement walls, but they were not conductors of sound and no answer came.

He grew tired after a while, but the physical exertion had done him good.  The languid blood flowed in a better tide in his veins and his mind became more keen.  There must be some way out of this.  Youth could not give up hope.  It was incredible, impossible that he should remain always here, shut off from that wonderful free world outside.  The roll of the sea over his head made reply.

After a while he began to walk around his cell, around and around and around, until his head grew dizzy, and he staggered.  Then he would reverse and go around and around and around the other way.  He kept this up until he could scarcely stand.  He lay down and tried to sleep again.  But he must have slept a long time before, and sleep would not come.  He lay there on the blankets, staring at the walls and not seeing them, until the soldiers came again with his food.  Ned ate and drank in silence.  He was resolved not to ask a question, and, when the soldiers departed, not a single word had been spoken.