Black Bartlemys Treasure

"No, but 'tis plaguy dark."

"But you are there," says she, "so I do not fear the dark."

"To-morrow I will make a lamp." Here she fell silent and I think to sleep, but as for me I lay long, oppressed by my thoughts. "Aye, verily," says I at last, speaking my thought aloud as had become my custom in my solitude, "to-morrow I will contrive a lamp, for light is a goodly thing." Now here I heard a rustle from the inner cave as she had turned in her sleep, for she spake no word; and so, despite my thoughts, I too presently fell to blessed slumber.

Now if there be any who, reading this my narrative, shall think me too diffuse and particular in the chapters to follow, I do hereby humbly crave their pardon, but (maugre my reader's weariness) shall not abate one word or sentence, since herein I (that by my own folly have known so little of happiness) do record some of the happiest hours that ever man knew, so that it is joy again to write. Therefore to such as would read of rogues and roguish doings, of desperate fights, encounters and affrays, I would engage him to pass over these next few chapters, for he shall find overmuch of these things ere I make an end of this tale of Black Bartlemy's Treasure. Which very proper advice having duly set down, I will again to my narrative.