CHAPTER XLVII

A CHARMED LIFE The night was still enough, but piled-up masses of black clouds obscured a weakly moon, and there were only now and then uncertain gleams of glimmering light. There was no fog, nor any sign of any. The captain slept in his room, and on deck the steamer was utterly deserted. Only through the black darkness she still bounded on, her furnaces roaring, and the black trail of smoke leaving a long clear track behind her. It seemed as though every one were sleeping on board the steamer except those who fed …