The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket Comprising the details of a mutiny and atrocious butchery on board the American brig Grampus, on her way to the South Seas, in the month of June, 1827.

By Edgar Allan Poe

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word since casting loose from the
wharf. I now asked my companion what course he intended to steer, and
what time he thought it probable we should get back. He whistled for a
few minutes, and then said crustily, "_I_ am going to sea--_you_ may go
home if you think proper." Turning my eyes upon him, I perceived at
once that, in spite of his assumed _nonchalance_, he was greatly
agitated. I could see him distinctly by the light of 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

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Text Comparison with The Works of Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven Edition Table Of Contents And Index Of The Five Volumes

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THE COLLOQUY OF MONOS AND UNA THE CONVERSATION OF EIROS AND CHARMION THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM THE FACTS IN THE CASE OF M.
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ULALUME A VALENTINE.