Read The Ghost Pirates Page 3


  For the first couple of weeks out, nothing unusual happened, and thewind still held fair. I began to feel that I had been rather lucky,after all, in the packet into which I had been shunted. Most of theother fellows gave her a good name, and there was a pretty generalopinion growing among the crowd, that it was all a silly yarn about herbeing haunted. And then, just when I was settling down to things,something happened that opened my eyes no end.

  It was in the eight to twelve watch, and I was sitting on the steps, onthe starboard side, leading up to the fo'cas'le head. The night was fineand there was a splendid moon. Away aft, I heard the timekeeper strikefour bells, and the look-out, an old fellow named Jaskett, answered him.As he let go the bell lanyard, he caught sight of me, where I satquietly, smoking. He leant over the rail, and looked down at me.

  "That you, Jessop?" he asked.

  "I believe it is," I replied.

  "We'd 'ave our gran'mothers an' all the rest of our petticoatedrelash'ns comin' to sea, if 'twere always like this," he remarked,reflectively--indicating, with a sweep of his pipe and hand, thecalmness of the sea and sky.

  I saw no reason for denying that, and he continued:

  "If this ole packet is 'aunted, as some on 'em seems to think, well allas I can say is, let me 'ave the luck to tumble across another of thesame sort. Good grub, an' duff fer Sundays, an' a decent crowd of 'emaft, an' everythin' comfertable like, so as yer can feel yer knows whereyer are. As fer 'er bein' 'aunted, that's all 'ellish nonsense. I'vecomed 'cross lots of 'em before as was said to be 'aunted, an' so someon 'em was; but 'twasn't with ghostesses. One packet I was in, they wasthat bad yer couldn't sleep a wink in yer watch below, until yer'd 'adevery stitch out yer bunk an' 'ad a reg'lar 'unt. Sometimes--" At thatmoment, the relief, one of the ordinary seamen, went up the other ladderon to the fo'cas'le head, and the old chap turned to ask him "Why the'ell" he'd not relieved him a bit smarter. The ordinary made some reply;but what it was, I did not catch; for, abruptly, away aft, my rathersleepy gaze had lighted on something altogether extraordinary andoutrageous. It was nothing less than the form of a man stepping inboardover the starboard rail, a little abaft the main rigging. I stood up,and caught at the handrail, and stared.

  Behind me, someone spoke. It was the look-out, who had come down off thefo'cas'le head, on his way aft to report the name of his relief to thesecond mate.

  "What is it, mate?" he asked, curiously, seeing my intent attitude.

  The thing, whatever it was, had disappeared into the shadows on the leeside of the deck.

  "Nothing!" I replied, shortly; for I was too bewildered then, at what myeyes had just shown me, to say any more. I wanted to think.

  The old shellback glanced at me; but only muttered something, and wenton his way aft.

  For a minute, perhaps, I stood there, watching; but could see nothing.Then I walked slowly aft, as far as the after end of the deck house.From there, I could see most of the main deck; but nothing showed,except, of course, the moving shadows of the ropes and spars and sails,as they swung to and fro in the moonlight.

  The old chap who had just come off the look-out, had returned forrardagain, and I was alone on that part of the deck. And then, all at once,as I stood peering into the shadows to leeward, I remembered whatWilliams had said about there being too many "shadders." I had beenpuzzled to understand his real meaning, then. I had no difficulty _now_.There _were_ too many shadows. Yet, shadows or no shadows, I realisedthat for my own peace of mind, I must settle, once and for all, whetherthe thing I had seemed to see stepping aboard out of the ocean, had beena reality, or simply a phantom, as you might say, of my imagination. Myreason said it was nothing more than imagination, a rapid dream--I musthave dozed; but something deeper than reason told me that this was notso. I put it to the test, and went straight in amongst the shadows--There was nothing.

  I grew bolder. My common sense told me I must have fancied it all. Iwalked over to the mainmast, and looked behind the pinrail that partlysurrounded it, and down into the shadow of the pumps; but here again wasnothing. Then I went in under the break of the poop. It was darker underthere than out on deck. I looked up both sides of the deck, and saw thatthey were bare of anything such as I looked for. The assurance wascomforting. I glanced at the poop ladders, and remembered that nothingcould have gone up there, without the Second Mate or the Time-keeperseeing it. Then I leant my back up against the bulkshead, and thoughtthe whole matter over, rapidly, sucking at my pipe, and keeping myglance about the deck. I concluded my think, and said "No!" out loud.Then something occurred to me, and I said "Unless--" and went over tothe starboard bulwarks, and looked over and down into the sea; but therewas nothing but sea; and so I turned and made my way forrard. My commonsense had triumphed, and I was convinced that my imagination had beenplaying tricks with me.

  I reached the door on the portside, leading into the fo'cas'le, and wasabout to enter, when something made me look behind. As I did so, I had ashaker. Away aft, a dim, shadowy form stood in the wake of a swayingbelt of moonlight, that swept the deck a bit abaft the main-mast.

  It was the same figure that I had just been attributing to my fancy. Iwill admit that I felt more than startled; I was quite a bit frightened.I was convinced now that it was no mere imaginary thing. It was a humanfigure. And yet, with the flicker of the moonlight and the shadowschasing over it, I was unable to say more than that. Then, as I stoodthere, irresolute and funky, I got the thought that someone was actingthe goat; though for what reason or purpose, I never stopped toconsider. I was glad of any suggestion that my common sense assured mewas not impossible; and, for the moment, I felt quite relieved. Thatside to the question had not presented itself to me before. I began topluck up courage. I accused myself of getting fanciful; otherwise Ishould have tumbled to it earlier. And then, funnily enough, in spite ofall my reasoning, I was still afraid of going aft to discover who thatwas, standing on the lee side of the maindeck. Yet I felt that if Ishirked it, I was only fit to be dumped overboard; and so I went, thoughnot with any great speed, as you can imagine.

  I had gone half the distance, and still the figure remained there,motionless and silent--the moonlight and the shadows playing over itwith each roll of the ship. I think I tried to be surprised. If it wereone of the fellows playing the fool, he must have heard me coming, andwhy didn't he scoot while he had the chance? And where could he havehidden himself, before? All these things, I asked myself, in a rush,with a queer mixture of doubt and belief; and, you know, in themeantime, I was drawing nearer. I had passed the house, and was nottwelve paces distant; when, abruptly, the silent figure made three quickstrides to the port rail, and _climbed over it into the sea_.

  I rushed to the side, and stared over; but nothing met my gaze, exceptthe shadow of the ship, sweeping over the moonlit sea.

  How long I stared down blankly into the water, it would be impossible tosay; certainly for a good minute. I felt blank--just horribly blank. Itwas such a beastly confirmation of the _unnaturalness_ of the thing Ihad concluded to be only a sort of brain fancy. I seemed, for thatlittle time, deprived, you know, of the power of coherent thought. Isuppose I was dazed--mentally stunned, in a way.

  As I have said, a minute or so must have gone, while I had been staringinto the dark of the water under the ship's side. Then, I came suddenlyto my ordinary self. The Second Mate was singing out: "Lee fore brace."

  I went to the braces, like a chap in a dream.