"The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym..." - читать интересную книгу автора (Poe Edgar Allan)

the moon- his face was paler than any marble, and his hand shook so
excessively that he could scarcely retain hold of the tiller. I
found that something had gone wrong, and became seriously alarmed.
At this period I knew little about the management of a boat, and was
now depending entirely upon the nautical skill of my friend. The wind,
too, had suddenly increased, as we were fast getting out of the lee of
the land- still I was ashamed to betray any trepidation, and for
almost half an hour maintained a resolute silence. I could stand it
no longer, however, and spoke to Augustus about the propriety of
turning back. As before, it was nearly a minute before he made answer,
or took any notice of my suggestion. "By-and-by," said he at
length- "time enough- home by-and-by." I had expected a similar reply,
but there was something in the tone of these words which filled me
with an indescribable feeling of dread. I again looked at the
speaker attentively. His lips were perfectly livid, and his knees
shook so violently together that he seemed scarcely able to stand.
"For God's sake, Augustus," I screamed, now heartily frightened, "what
ails you?- what is the matter?- what are you going to do?" "Matter!"
he stammered, in the greatest apparent surprise, letting go the tiller
at the same moment, and falling forward into the bottom of the
boat- "matter- why, nothing is the- matter- going home- d-d-don't you
see?" The whole truth now flashed upon me. I flew to him and raised
him up. He was drunk- beastly drunk- he could no longer either stand,
speak or see. His eyes were perfectly glazed; and as I let him go in
the extremity of my despair, he rolled like a mere log into the
bilge-water, from which I had lifted him. It was evident that,
during the evening, he had drunk far more than I suspected, and that
his conduct in bed had been the result of a highly-concentrated
state of intoxication- a state which, like madness, frequently
enables the victim to imitate the outward demeanour of one in
perfect possession of his senses. The coolness of the night air,
however, had had its usual effect- the mental energy began to yield
before its influence- and the confused perception which he no doubt
then had of his perilous situation had assisted in hastening the
catastrophe. He was now thoroughly insensible, and there was no
probability that he would be otherwise for many hours.
It is hardly possible to conceive the extremity of my terror. The
fumes of the wine lately taken had evaporated, leaving me doubly timid
and irresolute. I knew that I was altogether incapable of managing the
boat, and that a fierce wind and strong ebb tide were hurrying us to
destruction. A storm was evidently gathering behind us; we had
neither compass nor provisions; and it was clear that, if we held our
present course, we should be out of sight of land before daybreak.
These thoughts, with a crowd of others equally fearful, flashed
through my mind with a bewildering rapidity, and for some moments
paralyzed me beyond the possibility of making any exertion. The boat
was going through the water at a terrible rate- full before the wind-
no reef in either jib or mainsail- running her bows completely under
the foam. It was a thousand wonders she did not broach to- Augustus
having let go the tiller, as I said before, and I being too much