I was appalled; it was a villainous night for blackness, we were in a particularly wide and blind part of the river, where there was no shape or substance to anything, and it seemed incredible that Mr.Bixby should have left that poor fellow to kill the boat trying to find out where he was.

But I resolved that I would stand by him any way.

He should find that he was not wholly friendless.

So I stood around, and waited to be asked where we were.

But Mr.W---- plunged on serenely through the solid firmament of black cats that stood for an atmosphere, and never opened his mouth.
Here is a proud devil, thought I; here is a limb of Satan that would rather send us all to destruction than put himself under obligations to me, because I am not yet one of the salt of the earth and privileged to snub captains and lord it over everything dead and alive in a steamboat.
I presently climbed up on the bench; I did not think it was safe to go to sleep while this lunatic was on watch.
However, I must have gone to sleep in the course of time, because the next thing I was aware of was the fact that day was breaking, Mr.
W----gone, and Mr.Bixby at the wheel again.