Indistinctly through my bandages I can hear orders being given and a confused murmur of voices that lasts for about five minutes, but I cannot distinguish a word that is said.
The only thought that occurs to me now is that they will hoist me on board and lower me to the bottom of the hold and keep me there till the vessel is far out at sea.

Obviously they will not allow either Thomas Roch or his keeper to appear on deck as long as she remains in Pamlico Sound.
My conjecture is correct.

Still gagged and bound I am at last lifted by the legs and shoulders.

My impression, however, is that I am not being raised over a ship's bulwark, but on the contrary am being lowered.

Are they going to drop me overboard to drown like a rat, so as to get rid of a dangerous witness?
This thought flashes into my brain, and a quiver of anguish passes through my body from head to foot.