"The Oblong Box" - читать интересную книгу автора (Poe Edgar Allan)

ourselves in the boats. At eight P. M., the clouds broke away to
windward, and we had the advantage of a full moon- a piece of good
fortune which served wonderfully to cheer our drooping spirits.
After incredible labor we succeeded, at length, in getting the
longboat over the side without material accident, and into this we
crowded the whole of the crew and most of the passengers. This party
made off immediately, and, after undergoing much suffering, finally
arrived, in safety, at Ocracoke Inlet, on the third day after the
wreck.
Fourteen passengers, with the captain, remained on board,
resolving to trust their fortunes to the jolly-boat at the stern. We
lowered it without difficulty, although it was only by a miracle
that we prevented it from swamping as it touched the water. It
contained, when afloat, the captain and his wife, Mr. Wyatt and party,
a Mexican officer, wife, four children, and myself, with a negro
valet.
We had no room, of course, for any thing except a few positively
necessary instruments, some provisions, and the clothes upon our
backs. No one had thought of even attempting to save any thing more.
What must have been the astonishment of all, then, when having
proceeded a few fathoms from the ship, Mr. Wyatt stood up in the
stern-sheets, and coolly demanded of Captain Hardy that the boat
should be put back for the purpose of taking in his oblong box!
"Sit down, Mr. Wyatt," replied the captain, somewhat sternly, "you
will capsize us if you do not sit quite still. Our gunwhale is
almost in the water now."
"The box!" vociferated Mr. Wyatt, still standing- "the box, I say!
Captain Hardy, you cannot, you will not refuse me. Its weight will
be but a trifle- it is nothing- mere nothing. By the mother who bore
you- for the love of Heaven- by your hope of salvation, I implore
you to put back for the box!"
The captain, for a moment, seemed touched by the earnest appeal of
the artist, but he regained his stern composure, and merely said:
"Mr. Wyatt, you are mad. I cannot listen to you. Sit down, I say, or
you will swamp the boat. Stay- hold him- seize him!- he is about to
spring overboard! There- I knew it- he is over!"
As the captain said this, Mr. Wyatt, in fact, sprang from the
boat, and, as we were yet in the lee of the wreck, succeeded, by
almost superhuman exertion, in getting hold of a rope which hung
from the fore-chains. In another moment he was on board, and rushing
frantically down into the cabin.
In the meantime, we had been swept astern of the ship, and being
quite out of her lee, were at the mercy of the tremendous sea which
was still running. We made a determined effort to put back, but our
little boat was like a feather in the breath of the tempest. We saw at
a glance that the doom of the unfortunate artist was sealed.
As our distance from the wreck rapidly increased, the madman (for as
such only could we regard him) was seen to emerge from the
companion- way, up which by dint of strength that appeared gigantic,
he dragged, bodily, the oblong box. While we gazed in the extremity of