We played whist in the evening, and I went to bed late. I will confess
now that I felt a disagreeable sensation when I entered my state-room. I
could not help thinking of the tall man I had seen on the previous
night, who was now dead, drowned, tossing about in the long swell, two
or three hundred miles astern. His face rose very distinctly before me
as I undressed, and I even went so far as to draw back the curtains of
the upper berth, as though to persuade myself that he was actually gone.
I also bolted the door of the state-room. Suddenly I became aware that
the porthole was open, and fastened back. This was more than I could
stand. I hastily threw on my dressing-gown and went in search of Robert,
the steward of my passage. I was very angry, I remember, and when I
found him I dragged him roughly to the door of 105, and pushed him
towards the open porthole.
"What the deuce do you mean, you scoundrel, by leaving that port open
every night? Don't you know it is against the regulations? Don't you
know that if the ship heeled and the water began to come in, ten men
could not shut it? I will report you to the captain, you blackguard, for
endangering the ship!"
I was exceedingly wroth. The man trembled and turned pale, and then
began to shut the round glass plate with the heavy brass fittings.
"Why don't you answer me?" I said roughly.
"If you please, sir," faltered Robert, "there's nobody on board as can
keep this 'ere port shut at night. You can try it yourself, sir. I ain't
a-going to stop hany longer on board o' this vessel, sir; I ain't,
indeed. But if I was you, sir, I'd just clear out and go and sleep with
the surgeon, or something, I would. Look 'ere, sir, is that fastened
what you may call securely, or not, sir? Try it, sir, see if it will
move a hinch."
I tried the port, and found it perfectly tight.
"Well, sir," continued Robert, triumphantly, "I wager my reputation as a
A1 steward that in 'arf an hour it will be open again; fastened back,
too, sir, that's the horful thing--fastened back!"
I examined the great screw and the looped nut that ran on it.
"If I find it open in the night, Robert, I will give you a sovereign. It
is not possible. You may go."
"Soverin' did you say, sir? Very good, sir. Thank ye, sir. Good-night,
sir. Pleasant reepose, sir, and all manner of hinchantin' dreams, sir."
Robert scuttled away, delighted at being released. Of course, I thought
he was trying to account for his negligence by a silly story, intended
to frighten me, and I disbelieved him. The consequence was that he got
his sovereign, and I spent a very peculiarly unpleasant night.
I went to bed, and five minutes after I had rolled myself up in my
blankets the inexorable Robert extinguished the light that burned
steadily behind the ground-glass pane near the door. I lay quite still
in the dark trying to go to sleep, but I soon found that impossible. It
had been some satisfaction to be angry with the steward, and the
diversion had banished that unpleasant sensation I had at first
experienced when I thought of the drowned man who had been my chum; but
I was no longer sleepy, and I lay awake for some time, occasionally
glancing at the porthole, which I could just see from where I lay, and
which, in the darkness, looked like a faintly luminous soup-plate
suspended in blackness. I believe I must have lain there for an hour,
and, as I remember, I was just dozing into sleep when I was roused by a
draught of cold air, and by distinctly feeling the spray of the sea
blown upon my face. I started to my feet, and not having allowed in the
dark for the motion of the ship, I was instantly thrown violently across
the state-room upon the couch which was placed beneath the porthole. I
recovered myself immediately, however, and climbed upon my knees. The
porthole was again wide open and fastened back!
Now these things are facts. I was wide awake when I got up, and I
should certainly have been waked by the fall had I still been dozing.
Moreover, I bruised my elbows and knees badly, and the bruises were
there on the following morning to testify to the fact, if I myself had
doubted it. The porthole was wide open and fastened back--a thing so
unaccountable that I remember very well feeling astonishment rather than
fear when I discovered it. I at once closed the plate again, and screwed
down the loop nut with all my strength. It was very dark in the
state-room. I reflected that the port had certainly been opened within
an hour after Robert had at first shut it in my presence, and I
determined to watch it, and see whether it would open again. Those brass
fittings are very heavy and by no means easy to move; I could not
believe that the clump had been turned by the shaking of the screw. I
stood peering out through the thick glass at the alternate white and
grey streaks of the sea that foamed beneath the ship's side. I must have
remained there a quarter of an hour.
Suddenly, as I stood, I distinctly heard something moving behind me in
one of the berths, and a moment afterwards, just as I turned
instinctively to look--though I could, of course, see nothing in the
darkness--I heard a very faint groan. I sprang across the state-room,
and tore the curtains of the upper berth aside, thrusting in my hands to
discover if there were any one there. There was some one.
I remember that the sensation as I put my hands forward was as though I
were plunging them into the air of a damp cellar, and from behind the
curtains came a gust of wind that smelled horribly of stagnant
sea-water. I laid hold of something that had the shape of a man's arm,
but was smooth, and wet, and icy cold. But suddenly, as I pulled, the
creature sprang violently forward against me, a clammy, oozy mass, as it
seemed to me, heavy and wet, yet endowed with a sort of supernatural
strength. I reeled across the state-room, and in an instant the door
opened and the thing rushed out. I had not had time to be frightened,
and quickly recovering myself, I sprang through the door and gave chase
at the top of my speed, but I was too late. Ten yards before me I could
see--I am sure I saw it--a dark shadow moving in the dimly lighted
passage, quickly as the shadow of a fast horse thrown before a dogcart
by the lamp on a dark night. But in a moment it had disappeared, and I
found myself holding on to the polished rail that ran along the bulkhead
where the passage turned towards the companion. My hair stood on end,
and the cold perspiration rolled down my face. I am not ashamed of it
in the least: I was very badly frightened.
Still I doubted my senses, and pulled myself together. It was absurd, I
thought. The Welsh rarebit I had eaten had disagreed with me. I had been
in a nightmare. I made my way back to my state-room, and entered it with
an effort. The whole place smelled of stagnant sea-water, as it had when
I had waked on the previous evening. It required my utmost strength to
go in, and grope among my things for a box of wax lights. As I lighted a
railway reading lantern which I always carry in case I want to read
after the lamps are out, I perceived that the porthole was again open,
and a sort of creeping horror began to take possession of me which I
never felt before, nor wish to feel again. But I got a light and
proceeded to examine the upper berth, expecting to find it drenched with
sea-water.
But I was disappointed. The bed had been slept in, and the smell of the
sea was strong; but the bedding was as dry as a bone. I fancied that
Robert had not had the courage to make the bed after the accident of the
previous night--it had all been a hideous dream. I drew the curtains
back as far as I could and examined the place very carefully. It was
perfectly dry. But the porthole was open again. With a sort of dull
bewilderment of horror I closed it and screwed it down, and thrusting
my heavy stick through the brass loop, wrenched it with all my might,
till the thick metal began to bend under the pressure. Then I hooked my
reading lantern into the red velvet at the head of the couch, and sat
down to recover my senses if I could. I sat there all night, unable to
think of rest--hardly able to think at all. But the porthole remained
closed, and I did not believe it would now open again without the
application of a considerable force.
The morning dawned at last, and I dressed myself slowly, thinking over
all that had happened in the night. It was a beautiful day and I went on
deck, glad to get out into the early, pure sunshine, and to smell the
breeze from the blue water, so different from the noisome, stagnant
odour of my state-room. Instinctively I turned aft, towards the
surgeon's cabin. There he stood, with a pipe in his mouth, taking his
morning airing precisely as on the preceding day.
"Good-morning," said he quietly, but looking at me with evident
curiosity.
"Doctor, you were quite right," said I. "There is something wrong about
that place."
"I thought you would change your mind," he answered, rather
triumphantly. "You have had a bad night, eh? Shall I make you a
pick-me-up? I have a capital recipe."
"No, thanks," I cried. "But I would like to tell you what happened."
I then tried to explain as clearly as possible precisely what had
occurred, not omitting to state that I had been scared as I had never
been scared in my whole life before. I dwelt particularly on the
phenomenon of the porthole, which was a fact to which I could testify,
even if the rest had been an illusion. I had closed it twice in the
night, and the second time I had actually bent the brass in wrenching it
with my stick. I believe I insisted a good deal on this point.
"You seem to think I am likely to doubt the story," said the doctor,
smiling at the detailed account of the state of the porthole. "I do not
doubt it in the least. I renew my invitation to you. Bring your traps
here, and take half my cabin."
"Come and take half of mine for one night," I said. "Help me to get at
the bottom of this thing."
"You will get to the bottom of something else if you try," answered the
doctor.
"What?" I asked.
"The bottom of the sea. I am going to leave this ship. It is not canny."
"Then you will not help me to find out--"
"Not I," said the doctor, quickly. "It is my business to keep my wits
about me--not to go fiddling about with ghosts and things."
"Do you really believe it is a ghost?" I enquired, rather
contemptuously. But as I spoke I remembered very well the horrible
sensation of the supernatural which had got possession of me during the
night. The doctor turned sharply on me.
"Have you any reasonable explanation of these things to offer?" he
asked. "No; you have not. Well, you say you will find an explanation. I
say that you won't, sir, simply because there is not any."
"But, my dear sir," I retorted, "do you, a man of science, mean to tell
me that such things cannot be explained?"
"I do," he answered stoutly. "And, if they could, I would not be
concerned in the explanation."
I did not care to spend another night alone in the state-room, and yet I
was obstinately determined to get at the root of the disturbances. I do
not believe there are many men who would have slept there alone, after
passing two such nights. But I made up my mind to try it, if I could not
get any one to share a watch with me. The doctor was evidently not
inclined for such an experiment. He said he was a surgeon, and that in
case any accident occurred on board he must be always in readiness. He
could not afford to have his nerves unsettled. Perhaps he was quite
right, but I am inclined to think that his precaution was prompted by
his inclination. On enquiry, he informed me that there was no one on
board who would be likely to join me in my investigations, and after a
little more conversation I left him. A little later I met the captain,
and told him my story. I said that, if no one would spend the night with
me, I would ask leave to have the light burning all night, and would try
it alone.
"Look here," said he, "I will tell you what I will do. I will share your
watch myself, and we will see what happens. It is my belief that we can
find out between us. There may be some fellow skulking on board, who
steals a passage by frightening the passengers. It is just possible that
there may be something queer in the carpentering of that berth."
I suggested taking the ship's carpenter below and examining the place;
but I was overjoyed at the captain's offer to spend the night with me.
He accordingly sent for the workman and ordered him to do anything I
required. We went below at once. I had all the bedding cleared out of
the upper berth, and we examined the place thoroughly to see if there
was a board loose anywhere, or a panel which could be opened or pushed
aside. We tried the planks everywhere, tapped the flooring, unscrewed
the fittings of the lower berth and took it to pieces--in short, there
was not a square inch of the state-room which was not searched and
tested. Everything was in perfect order, and we put everything back in
its place. As we were finishing our work, Robert came to the door and
looked in.
"Well, sir--find anything, sir?" he asked, with a ghastly grin.
"You were right about the porthole, Robert," I said, and I gave him the
promised sovereign. The carpenter did his work silently and skilfully,
following my directions. When he had done he spoke.
"I'm a plain man, sir," he said. "But it's my belief you had better just
turn out your things, and let me run half a dozen four-inch screws
through the door of this cabin. There's no good never came o' this cabin
yet, sir, and that's all about it. There's been four lives lost out o'
here to my own remembrance, and that in four trips. Better give it up,
sir--better give it up!"
"I will try it for one night more," I said.
"Better give it up, sir--better give it up! It's a precious bad job,"
repeated the workman, putting his tools in his bag and leaving the
cabin.
But my spirits had risen considerably at the prospect of having the
captain's company, and I made up my mind not to be prevented from going
to the end of the strange business. I abstained from Welsh rarebits and
grog that evening, and did not even join in the customary game of whist.
I wanted to be quite sure of my nerves, and my vanity made me anxious to
make a good figure in the captain's eyes.