LITMIR.BIZ

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wasn't asleep, any more than you were," he said, bitterly. "And you know it. You're just fooling me. The ship's haunted."

      "What!" I said, sharply.

      "She's haunted," he said, again. "She's haunted."

      "Who says so?" I inquired, in a tone of unbelief.

      "I do! And you know it. Everybody knows it; but they don't more than half believe it … I didn't, until tonight."

      "Damned rot!" I answered. "That's all a blooming old shellback's yarn.

      She's no more haunted than I am."

      "It's not damned rot," he replied, totally unconvinced. "And it's not an old shellback's yarn … Why won't you say you saw it?" he cried, growing almost tearfully excited, and raising his voice again.

      I warned him not to wake the sleepers.

      "Why won't you say that you saw it?" he repeated.

      I got up from the chest, and went towards the door.

      "You're a young idiot!" I said. "And I should advise you not to go gassing about like this, round the decks. Take my tip, and turn-in and get a sleep. You're talking dotty. Tomorrow you'll perhaps feel what an unholy ass you've made of yourself."

      I stepped over the washboard, and left him. I believe he followed me to the door to say something further; but I was half-way forward by then.

      For the next couple of days, I avoided him as much as possible, taking care never to let him catch me alone. I was determined, if possible, to convince him that he had been mistaken in supposing that he had seen anything that night. Yet, after all, it was little enough use, as you will soon see. For, on the night of the second day, there was a further extraordinary development, that made denial on my part useless.

      III

The Man up the Main

      It occurred in the first watch, just after six bells. I was forward, sitting on the fore-hatch. No one was about the maindeck. The night was exceedingly fine; and the wind had dropped away almost to nothing, so that the ship was very quiet.

      Suddenly, I heard the Second Mate's voice—

      "In the main-rigging, there! Who's that going aloft?"

      I sat up on the hatch, and listened. There succeeded an intense silence.

      Then the Second's voice came again. He was evidently getting wild.

      "Do you damn well hear me? What the hell are you doing up there? Come down!"

      I rose to my feet, and walked up to wind'ard. From there, I could see the break of the poop. The Second Mate was standing by the starboard ladder. He appeared to be looking up at something that was hidden from me by the topsails. As I stared, he broke out again:

      "Hell and damnation, you blasted sojer, come down when I tell you!"

      He stamped on the poop, and repeated his order, savagely. But there was no answer. I started to walk aft. What had happened? Who had gone aloft? Who would be fool enough to go, without being told? And then, all at once, a thought came to me. The figure Tammy and I had seen. Had the Second Mate seen something—someone? I hurried on, and then stopped, suddenly. In the same moment there came the shrill blast of the Second's whistle; he was whistling for the watch, and I turned and ran to the fo'cas'le to rouse them out. Another minute, and I was hurrying aft with them to see what was wanted.

      His voice met us half-way:

      "Up the main some of you, smartly now, and find out who that damned fool is up there. See what mischief he's up to."

      "i, i, Sir," several of the men sung out, and a couple jumped into the weather rigging. I joined them, and the rest were proceeding to follow; but the Second shouted for some to go up to leeward—in case the fellow tried to get down that side.

      As I followed the other two aloft, I heard the Second Mate tell Tammy, whose time-keeping it was, to get down on to the maindeck with the other 'prentice, and keep an eye on the fore and aft stays.

      "He may try down one of them if he's cornered," I heard him explain. "If you see anything, just sing out for me, right away."

      Tammy hesitated.

      "Well?" said the Second Mate, sharply.

      "Nothing, Sir," said Tammy, and went down on to the maindeck.

      The first man to wind'ard had reached the futtock shrouds; his head was above the top, and he was taking a preliminary look, before venturing higher.

      "See anythin', Jock?" asked Plummer, the man next above me.

      "Na'!" said Jock, tersely, and climbed over the top, and so disappeared from my sight.

      The fellow ahead of me, followed. He reached the futtock rigging, and stopped to expectorate. I was close at his heels, and he looked down to me.

      "What's up, anyway?" he said. "What's 'e seen? 'oo're we chasin' after?"

      I said I didn't know, and he swung up into the topmast rigging. I followed on. The chaps on the lee side were about level with us. Under the foot of the topsail, I could see Tammy and the other 'prentice down on the maindeck, looking upwards.

      The fellows were a bit excited in a sort of subdued way; though I am inclined to think there was far more curiosity and, perhaps, a certain consciousness of the strangeness of it all. I know that, looking to leeward, there was a tendancy to keep well together, in which I sympathised.

      "Must be a bloomin' stowaway," one of the men suggested.

      I grabbed at the idea, instantly. Perhaps—And then, in a moment, I dismissed it. I remembered how that first thing had stepped over the rail into the sea. That matter could not be explained in such a manner. With regard to this, I was curious and anxious. I had seen nothing this time. What could the Second Mate have seen? I wondered. Were we chasing fancies, or was there really someone—something real, among the shadows above us? My thoughts returned to that thing, Tammy and I had seen near the log-reel. I remembered how incapable the Second Mate had been of seeing anything then. I remembered how natural it had seemed that he should not be able to see. I caught the word "stowaway" again. After all, that might explain away this affair. It would–

      My train of thought was broken suddenly. One of the men was shouting and gesticulating.

      "I sees 'im! I sees 'im!" He was pointing upwards over our heads.

      "Where?" said the man above me. "Where?"

      I was looking up, for all that I was worth. I was conscious of a certain sense of relief. "It is real then," I said to myself. I screwed my head round, and looked along the yards above us. Yet, still I could see nothing; nothing except shadows and patches of light.

      Down on deck, I caught the Second Mate's voice.

      "Have you got him?" he was shouting.

      "Not yet, Zur," sung out the lowest man on the lee side.

      "We sees 'im, Sir," added Quoin.

      "I don't!" I said.

      "There 'e is agen," he said.

      We had reached the t'gallant rigging, and he was pointing up to the royal yard.

      "Ye're a fule, Quoin. That's what ye are."

      The voice came from above. It was Jock's, and there was a burst of laughter at Quoin's expense.

      I could see Jock now. He was standing in the rigging, just below the yard. He had gone straight away up, while the rest of us were mooning over the top.

      "Ye're a fule, Quoin," he said, again, "And I'm thinking the Second's juist as saft."

      He began to descend.

      "Then there's no one?" I asked.

      "Na'," he said, briefly.

      As we reached the deck, the Second Mate ran down off the poop. He came towards us, with an expectant air.

      "You've got him?" he asked, confidently.

      "There wasn't anyone," I said.

      "What!"

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