Explore "Black Bartlemy's Treasure" by Jeffery Farnol on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The moon was very bright, casting great, black shadows athwart our way, and now, once our familiar surroundings were left behind, we fell silent or spake only in low voices, awed by the universal hush of all things; for the night was very still and hot and breathless, not a leaf stirred and no sound to hear save the unceasing roar of the surf.
"Martin," says she, very softly, "here is a night of such infinite quiet that I grow almost afraid -- "