"If there are," I said. "You can pray to God that they won't stumble
across us. It strikes me that whether they're ghosts, or not ghosts,
they're blood-gutted pirates.
"It seems horrible," he said solemnly, "to be talking seriously like
this, about--you know, about such things."
"I've tried to stop thinking that way," I told him. "I've felt I should
go cracked, if I didn't. There's damned queer things happen at sea, I
know; but this isn't one of them."
"It seems so strange and unreal, one moment, doesn't it?" he said. "And
the next, you _know_ it's really true, and you can't understand why you
didn't always know. And yet they'd never believe, if you told them
ashore about it."
"They'd believe, if they'd been in this packet in the middle watch this
morning," I said.
"Besides," I went on. "They don't understand. We didn't ... I shall
always feel different now, when I read that some packet hasn't been
heard of."
Tammy stared at me.
"I've heard some of the old shellbacks talking about things," he said.
"But I never took them really seriously."
"Well," I said. "I guess we'll have to take this seriously. I wish to
God we were home!"
"My God! so do I," he said.
For a good while after that, we both worked on in silence; but,
presently, he went off on another tack.
"Do you think we'll really shorten her down every night before it gets
dark?" he asked.
"Certainly," I replied. "They'll never get the men to go aloft at night,
after what's happened."
"But, but--supposing they _ordered_ us aloft--" he began.
"Would you go?" I interrupted.
"No!" he said, emphatically. "I'd jolly well be put in irons first!"
"That settles it, then," I replied. "You wouldn't go, nor would any one
else."
At this moment the Second Mate came along.
"Shove that mat and that sinnet away, you two," he said. "Then get your
brooms and clear up."
"i, i, Sir," we said, and he went on forrard.
"Jump on the house, Tammy," I said. "And let go the other end of this
rope, will you?"
"Right" he said, and did as I had asked him. When he came back, I got
him to give me a hand to roll up the mat, which was a very large one.
"I'll finish stopping it," I said. "You go and put your sinnet away."
"Wait a minute," he replied, and gathered up a double handful of shakins
from the deck, under where I had been working. Then he ran to the side.
"Here!" I said. "Don't go dumping those. They'll only float, and the
Second Mate or the Skipper will be sure to spot them."
"Come here, Jessop!" he interrupted, in a low voice, and taking no
notice of what I had been saying.
I got up off the hatch, where I was kneeling. He was staring over the
side.
"What's up?" I asked.
"For God's sake, hurry!" he said, and I ran, and jumped on to the spar,
alongside of him.
"Look!" he said, and pointed with a handful of shakins, right down,
directly beneath us.
Some of the shakins dropped from his hand, and blurred the water,
momentarily, so that I could not see. Then, as the ripples cleared away,
I saw what he meant.
"Two of them!" he said, in a voice that was scarcely above a whisper.
"And there's another out there," and he pointed again with the handful
of shakins.
"There's another a little further aft," I muttered.
"Where?--where?" he asked.
"There," I said, and pointed.
"That's four," he whispered. "Four of them!"
I said nothing; but continued to stare. They appeared to me to be a
great way down in the sea, and quite motionless. Yet, though their
outlines were somewhat blurred and indistinct, there was no mistaking
that they were very like exact, though shadowy, representations of
vessels. For some minutes we watched them, without speaking. At last
Tammy spoke.
"They're real, right enough," he said, in a low voice.
"I don't know," I answered.
"I mean we weren't mistaken this morning," he said.
"No," I replied. "I never thought we were."
Away forrard, I heard the Second Mate, returning aft. He came nearer,
and saw us.
"What's up now, you two?" he called, sharply. "This isn't clearing up!"
I put out my hand to warn him not to shout, and draw the attention of
the rest of the men.
He took several steps towards me.
"What is it? what is it?" he said, with a certain irritability; but in a
lower voice.
"You'd better take a look over the side, Sir," I replied.
My tone must have given him an inkling that we had discovered something
fresh; for, at my words, he made one spring, and stood on the spar,
alongside of me.
"Look, Sir," said Tammy. "There's four of them."
The Second Mate glanced down, saw something and bent sharply forward.
"My God!" I heard him mutter, under his breath.
After that, for some half-minute, he stared, without a word.
"There are two more out there, Sir," I told him, and indicated the place
with my finger.
It was a little time before he managed to locate these and when he did,
he gave them only a short glance. Then he got down off the spar, and
spoke to us.
"Come down off there," he said, quickly. "Get your brooms and clear up.
Don't say a word!--It may be nothing."
He appeared to add that last bit, as an afterthought, and we both knew
it meant nothing. Then he turned and went swiftly aft.
"I expect he's gone to tell the Old Man," Tammy remarked, as we went
forrard, carrying the mat and his sinnet.
"H'm," I said, scarcely noticing what he was saying; for I was full of
the thought of those four shadowy craft, waiting quietly down there.
We got our brooms, and went aft. On the way, the Second Mate and the
Skipper passed us. They went forrard too by the fore brace, and got up
on the spar. I saw the Second point up at the brace and he appeared to
be saying something about the gear. I guessed that this was done
purposely, to act as a blind, should any of the other men be looking.
Then the Old Man glanced down over the side, in a casual sort of manner;
so did the Second Mate. A minute or two later, they came aft, and went
back, up on to the poop. I caught a glimpse of the Skipper's face as he
passed me, on his return. He struck me as looking worried--bewildered,
perhaps, would be a better word.
Both Tammy and I were tremendously keen to have another look; but when
at last we got a chance, the sky reflected so much on the water, we
could see nothing below.
We had just finished sweeping up when four bells went, and we cleared
below for tea. Some of the men got chatting while they were grubbing.
"I 'ave 'eard," remarked Quoin, "as we're goin' ter shorten 'er down
afore dark."
"Eh?" said old Jaskett, over his pannikin of tea.
Quoin repeated his remark.
"'oo says so?" inquired Plummer.
"I 'eard it from ther Doc," answered Quoin, "'e got it from ther
Stooard."
"'ow would 'ee know?" asked Plummer.
"I dunno," said Quoin. "I 'spect 'e's 'eard 'em talkin' 'bout it arft."
Plummer turned to me.
"'ave you 'eard anythin', Jessop?" he inquired.
"What, about shortening down?" I replied.
"Yes," he said. "Weren't ther Old Man talkin' ter yer, up on ther poop
this mornin'?"
"Yes," I answered. "He said something to the Second Mate about
shortening down; but it wasn't to me."
"They are!" said Quoin, "'aven't I just said so?"
At that instant, one of the chaps in the other watch, poked his head in
through the starboard doorway.
"All hands shorten sail!" he sung out; at the same moment the Mate's
whistle came sharp along the decks.
Plummer stood up, and reached for his cap.
"Well," he said. "It's evydent they ain't goin' ter lose no more of us!"
Then we went out on deck.
It was a dead calm; but all the same, we furled the three royals, and
then the three t'gallants. After that, we hauled up the main and
foresail, and stowed them. The crossjack, of course, had been furled
some time, with the wind being plumb aft.
It was while we were up at the foresail, that the sun went over the edge
of the horizon. We had finished stowing the sail, out upon the yard, and
I was waiting for the others to clear in, and let me get off the
foot-rope. Thus it happened that having nothing to do for nearly a
minute, I stood watching the sun set, and so saw something that
otherwise I should, most probably, have missed. The sun had dipped
nearly half-way below the horizon, and was showing like a great, red
dome of dull fire. Abruptly, far away on the starboard bow, a faint mist
drove up out of the sea. It spread across the face of the sun, so that
its light shone now as though it came through a dim haze of smoke.
Quickly, this mist or haze grew thicker; but, at the same time,
separating and taking strange shapes, so that the red of the sun struck
through ruddily between them. Then, as I watched, the weird mistiness
collected and shaped and rose into three towers. These became more
definite, and there was something elongated beneath them. The shaping
and forming continued, and almost suddenly I saw that the thing had
taken on the shape of a great ship. Directly afterwards, I saw that it
was moving. It had been broadside on to the sun. Now it was swinging.
The bows came round with a stately movement, until the three masts bore
in a line. It was heading directly towards us. It grew larger; but yet
less distinct. Astern of it, I saw now that the sun had sunk to a mere
line of light. Then, in the gathering dusk it seemed to me that the ship
was sinking back into the ocean. The sun went beneath the sea, and the
thing I had seen became merged, as it were, into the monotonous greyness
of the coming night.
A voice came to me from the rigging. It was the Second Mate's. He had
been up to give us a hand.
"Now then, Jessop," he was saying. "Come along! come along!"
I turned quickly, and realised that the fellows were nearly all off the
yard.
"i, i, Sir," I muttered, and slid in along the foot-rope, and went down
on deck. I felt fresh dazed and frightened.
A little later, eight bells went, and, after roll call, I cleared up, on
to the poop, to relieve the wheel. For a while as I stood at the wheel
my mind seemed blank, and incapable of receiving impressions. This
sensation went, after a time, and I realised that there was a great
stillness over the sea. There was absolutely no wind, and even the
everlasting creak, creak of the gear seemed to ease off at times.
At the wheel there was nothing whatever to do. I might just as well have
been forrard, smoking in the fo'cas'le. Down on the main-deck, I could
see the loom of the lanterns that had been lashed up to the sherpoles in
the fore and main rigging. Yet they showed less than they might, owing
to the fact that they had been shaded on their after sides, so as not to
blind the officer of the watch more than need be.
The night had come down strangely dark, and yet of the dark and the
stillness and the lanterns, I was only conscious in occasional flashes
of comprehension. For, now that my mind was working, I was thinking
chiefly of that queer, vast phantom of mist, I had seen rise from the
sea, and take shape.
I kept staring into the night, towards the West, and then all round me;
for, naturally, the memory predominated that she had been coming towards
us when the darkness came, and it was a pretty disquieting sort of thing
to think about. I had such a horrible feeling that something beastly was
going to happen any minute.
Yet, two bells came and went, and still all was quiet--strangely quiet,
it seemed to me. And, of course, besides the queer, misty vessel I had
seen in the West I was all the time remembering the four shadowy craft
lying down in the sea, under our port side. Every time I remembered
them, I felt thankful for the lanterns round the maindeck, and I
wondered why none had been put in the mizzen rigging. I wished to
goodness that they had, and made up my mind I would speak to the Second
Mate about it, next time he came aft. At the time, he was leaning over
the rail across the break of the poop. He was not smoking, as I could
tell; for had he been, I should have seen the glow of his pipe, now and
then. It was plain to me that he was uneasy. Three times already he had
been down on to the maindeck, prowling about. I guessed that he had been
to look down into the sea, for any signs of those four grim craft. I
wondered whether they would be visible at night.
Suddenly, the time-keeper struck three bells, and the deeper notes of
the bell forrard, answered them. I gave a start. It seemed to me that
they had been struck close to my elbow. There was something
unaccountably strange in the air that night. Then, even as the Second
Mate answered the look-out's "All's well," there came the sharp whir and
rattle of running gear, on the port side of the mainmast.
Simultaneously, there was the shrieking of a parrel, up the main; and I
knew that someone, or something, had let go the main-topsail haul-yards.
From aloft there came the sound of something parting; then the crash of
the yard as it ceased falling.
The Second Mate shouted out something unintelligible, and jumped for the
ladder. From the maindeck there came the sound of running feet, and the
voices of the watch, shouting. Then I caught the Skipper's voice; he
must have run out on deck, through the Saloon doorway.
"Get some more lamps! Get some more lamps!" he was singing out. Then he
swore.
He sung out something further. I caught the last two words.
"...carried away," they sounded like.
"No, Sir," shouted the Second Mate. "I don't think so."
A minute of some confusion followed; and then came the click of pawls. I
could tell that they had taken the haulyards to the after capstan. Odd
words floated up to me.
"...all this water?" I heard in the Old Man's voice. He appeared to be
asking a question.
"Can't say, Sir," came the Second Mate's.
There was a period of time, filled only by the clicking of the pawls and
the sounds of the creaking parrel and the running gear. Then the Second
Mate's voice came again.
"Seems all right, Sir," I heard him say.
I never heard the Old Man's reply; for in the same moment, there came to
me a chill of cold breath at my back. I turned sharply, and saw
something peering over the taffrail. It had eyes that reflected the
binnacle light, weirdly, with a frightful, tigerish gleam; but beyond
that, I could see nothing with any distinctness. For the moment, I just
stared. I seemed frozen. It was so close. Then movement came to me, and
I jumped to the binnacle and snatched out the lamp. I twitched round,
and shone the light towards it. The thing, whatever it was, had come
more forward over the rail; but now, before the light, it recoiled with
a queer, horrible litheness. It slid back, and down, and so out of
sight. I have only a confused notion of a wet glistening Something, and
two vile eyes. Then I was running, crazy, towards the break of the poop.
I sprang down the ladder, and missed my footing, and landed on my stern,
at the bottom. In my left hand I held the still burning binnacle lamp.
The men were putting away the capstan-bars; but at my abrupt appearance,
and the yell I gave out at falling, one or two of them fairly ran
backwards a short distance, in sheer funk, before they realised what it
was.
From somewhere further forrard, the Old Man and the Second Mate came
running aft.
"What the devil's up now?" sung out the Second, stopping and bending to
stare at me. "What's to do, that you're away from the wheel?"
I stood up and tried to answer him; but I was so shaken that I could
only stammer.
"I--I--there--" I stuttered.
"Damnation!" shouted the Second Mate, angrily. "Get back to the wheel!"