The night had fully come and heavy darkness hung over land and water, but New Orleans did not sleep.
The smugglers, the adventurers, the former galley slaves, the riff-raff of Europe, and the mixed bloods of the West Indies were abroad in pursuit of either business or pleasure, each equally favored by the dusk.
Shif'less Sol and Long Jim were already asleep, but Paul was restless and slumber would not come.

Henry, too, was wakeful, and Paul at last suggested that they walk in the city.

Henry accepted, and with a word to Tom Ross they sprang ashore.
New Orleans was even more interesting to them by night than by day, as it had now a peculiarly uncanny look added to its other qualities.

The night was close, heavy, and warm, and the brown current of the river showed but dismally through it.

Lights were still moving on the Mississippi, but the boats that bore them were invisible.