Explore "The Haunted Island" by E.H. Visiak on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I went on deck, to behold a night of calm and beauty. There was no moon; but the hosts of the stars burned in a clear element, upon a solemn ground, and I thought they were like gems in the mantle of God.
But, as I stood, leaning on the bulwarks, dreaming in the blue starlight, on a sudden a hand was laid on my shoulder, and a hearty voice cried: