It was true. In the last few moments all that vast glistening surface of
metallic blue which stretched so far to windward appeared to be slowly
eaten away as if by some dull, corroding acid; the distant horizon line
of sea and sky was still distinct and sharply cut, but the whole water
between them had grown gray, as if some invisible shadow had passed in
mid-air across it. The actual fog bank had suddenly lost its resemblance
to the shore, had lifted as a curtain, and now seemed suspended over the
ship. Gradually it descended; the top-gallant and top-sails were lost
in this mysterious vapor, yet the horizon line still glimmered faintly.
Then another mist seemed to rise from the sea and meet it; in another
instant the deck whereon they stood shrank to the appearance of a
raft adrift in a faint gray sea. With the complete obliteration of all
circumambient space, the wind fell. Their isolation was complete.

It was notable that the first and most peculiar effect of this misty
environment was the absolute silence. The empty, invisible sails above
did not flap; the sheets and halyards hung limp; even the faint creaking
of an unseen block overhead was so startling as to draw every eye
upwards. Muffled orders from viewless figures forward were obeyed by
phantoms that moved noiselessly through the gray sea that seemed to have
invaded the deck. Even the passengers spoke in whispers, or held their
breath, in passive groups, as if fearing to break a silence so replete
with awe and anticipation. It was next noticed that the vessel was
subjected to some vague motion; the resistance of the water had ceased,
the waves no longer hissed under her bows, or nestled and lapped under
her counter; a dreamy, irregular, and listless rocking had taken the
place of the regular undulations; at times, a faint and half delicious
vertigo seemed to overcome their senses; the ship was drifting.

Captain Bunker stood near the bitts, where his brief orders were