When she, too, was gone, the river lay bare before us; silver when the moon shone, of an inky blackness when it was obscured by one of the many flying clouds.
My wife wrapped her mantle closer about her, and, leaning back in her seat in the stern beside me, raised her face to the wild and solemn heavens.

Diccon sat apart in the bow and held his tongue.

The minister bent over, and, lifting the man that lay in the bottom of the boat, laid him at full length upon the thwart before us.

The moonlight streamed down upon the prostrate figure.

I think it could never have shone upon a more handsome or a more wicked man.