There was no sound in the night as Rainsford sat there, but the muffled throb of the engine that drove the yacht swiftly through the darkness, and the swish and ripple of the wash of the propeller. From "The Most Dangerous Game," an excerpt is provided here.
In a steamer chair, Rainsford relaxedly smoked his preferred brier. He was experiencing the night's sensual somnolence. He reflected, "I could sleep without shutting my eyes; the night would be my eyelids—" "It's so dark," he thought. He was startled by a sudden noise. He heard it to the right, and as he is an expert in this field, his ears could not have been deceived. He heard the sound repeatedly. Someone had shot a gun three times, somewhere in the darkness.
Incredulous, Rainsford leaped to his feet and hurried to the rail. Despite his best efforts, it was difficult for him to see through the reports' source's direction.
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