I gasped, caught my breath painfully, and opened my eyes.

Two men were kneeling beside me, working over me.

My mighty rhythm was the lift and forward plunge of a ship on the sea.

The terrific gong was a frying-pan, hanging on the wall, that rattled and clattered with each leap of the ship.

The rasping, scorching sands were a man's hard hands chafing my naked chest.