"The Ocean," "The Phoenix," "The Consort," "The Dolphin," were passed in turns; but "The Vivid" was my ship, and it seemed she lay further down.
Down the sable flood we glided, I thought of the Styx, and of Charon rowing some solitary soul to the Land of Shades.

Amidst the strange scene, with a chilly wind blowing in my face and midnight clouds dropping rain above my head; with two rude rowers for companions, whose insane oaths still tortured my ear, I asked myself if I was wretched or terrified.

I was neither.

Often in my life have I been far more so under comparatively safe circumstances.

"How is this ?" said I.
"Methinks I am animated and alert, instead of being depressed and apprehensive ?" I could not tell how it was.
"THE VIVID" started out, white and glaring, from the black night at last.--"Here you are!" said the waterman, and instantly demanded six shillings.
"You ask too much," I said.