The sails filled.
As the sun went down, pouring a flood of golden light upon the beautiful marble staircase, the great white temple and the many snowy statues which gleamed so bright and fair amid the dark foliage of the trees and vines upon the terraces of that mysterious island I threw myself upon the deck with intent to keep my eyes fixed upon the lovely scene as long as possible.
My good ship sailed away in deepest silence. For I had given orders that no one should speak above a whisper.
Now the Sculptors’ Isle had faded to a mere speck in the horizon, and now, in the gathering shades of night, it was swallowed up, and lost forever!
My heart grew heavy.
Bulger nestled his head in my lap, with his loving eyes fixed full upon me.
Sleep overcame us both.
The sky was star-studded when we awoke.
The cool night wind had refreshed me.
I sprang up with the intention of going below. At that instant there came floating along on the evening breeze, like a mountain echo nearly spent, a soft mysterious sound.