y that the trunk should be placed beside me--"Just
there,"--which was instantly done; for the owner of the boat I had
chosen became now an ally: I was rowed off.

Black was the river as a torrent of ink; lights glanced on it from the
piles of building round, ships rocked on its bosom. They rowed me up to
several vessels; I read by lantern-light their names painted in great
white letters on a dark ground. "The Ocean," "The Phoenix," "The
Consort," "The Dolphin," were passed in turns; but "The Vivid" was my
ship, and it seemed she lay further down.

Down the sable flood we glided, I thought of the Styx, and of Charon
rowing some solitary soul to the Land of Shades. Amidst the strange
scene, with a chilly wind blowing in my face and midnight clouds
dropping rain above my head; with two rude rowers for companions, whose
insane oaths still tortured my ear, I asked myself if I was wretched or
terrified. I was neither. Often in my life have I been far more so
under comparatively safe circumstances. "How is this?" said I.
"Methinks I am animated and alert, instead of being depressed and
apprehensive?" I could not tell how it was.

"THE VIVID" started out, white and glaring, from the black night at
last.--"Here you are!" said the waterman, and instantly demanded six
shillings.

"You ask too much," I said. He drew off from the vessel and swore he
would not embark me till I paid it. A young man, the steward as I found
afterwards, was looking over the ship's side; he grinned a smile in
anticipation of the coming contest; to disappoint him, I paid the
money. Three times that afternoon I had given crowns where I should
have given shillings; but I consoled myself with the reflection, "It is
the price of experience."

"They've cheated you!" said the steward exultingly when I got on board.
I answered phlegmatically that "I knew it," and went below.

A stout, handsome, and showy woman was in the ladies' cabin. I asked to
be shown my berth; she looked hard at me, muttered something about its
being unusual for passengers to come on board at that hour, and seemed
disposed to be less than civil. What a face she had--so comely--so
insolent and so selfish!

"Now that I am on board, I shall certainly stay here," was my answer.
"I will trouble you to show me my berth."

She complied, but sullenly. I took off my bonnet, arranged my things,
and lay down. Some difficulties had been passed through; a sort of
victory was won: my homeless, a