I was wrong in saying it's coming.

It just drops down.

The smoke of the steamers has melted into the night, and you don't see them any more.

The surface of the river has turned black as ink, the bluffs of Grand Gulf have gone, and we've turned back three or four hundred years." "What do you mean by going back three or four hundred years ?" asked Warner, looking curiously at Dick.
"Why, don't you see them out there ?" "See them out there?
See what ?" "Why, the queer little ships with the high sides and prows! On my soul, George, they're the caravels of Spain! Look, they're stopping! Now they lower something in black over the side of the first caravel.

I see a man in a black robe like a priest, holding a cross in his hand and standing at the ship's edge saying something.