We must have continued thus, pulling silently, for hours before De Noyan broke the oppressive silence with impatient speech.

Indeed, not the least impressive feature of the grewsome night was his continued stillness.
"_Le Diable_!" he exclaimed uneasily, shifting in his seat.

"If the Styx be more gloomy than this accursed stream, then Jesu pity its voyagers.

Never have I put in so miserable a night, to say nothing of a strained back, and a pair of sore hands.

What are those black, crawling things yonder?
_Mon Dieu_! I have seen a thousand hideous demons since we left the cane." I glanced across my shoulder in the direction he pointed, glad enough to hear once again the sound of a voice.
"Only the fire-seared branch of a tree tossed on the current--the night rests heavily upon your nerves." "Heavily?
_Parbleu_! it has unmanned me with hideous silence, with creeping, ghostly mystery, until I am half mad, scarcely daring to whisper, in fear of my own voice.