dropped into the rigging and lowered
himself on to the schooner.

The scuttle was open, and the seamen's lusty snores fell upon his ears
like sweet music. He backed down the ladder, and groped in the darkness
towards the bunks with outstretched hand. One snore stopped instantly.

"Eh!" said a sleepy voice. "Wot! 'Ere, what the blazes are you up to?"

"A' right, Joe," said the watchman, cheerfully.

"But it ain't all right," said the seaman, sharply, "comin' down in the
dark an' ketchin' 'old o' people's noses. Give me quite a start, you
did."

"It's nothing to the start I've 'ad," said the other, pathetically;
"there's a ghost on the wharf, Joe. I want you to come up with me and
see what it is.

"Yes, I'm sure to do that," said Joe, turning over in his bunk till
it creaked with his weight. "Go away, and let me get to sleep again. I
don't get a night's rest like you do, you know."

"What's the matter?" enquired a sleepy voice.

"Old George 'ere ses there's a ghost on the wharf," said Joe.

"I've seen it three times," said the watchman, eager for sympathy.

"I expect it's a death-warning for you, George," said the voice,
solemnly. "The last watchman died sudden, you remember."

"So he did," said Joe.

"His 'art was wrong," said George, curtly; "'ad been for years."

"Well, we can't do nothin' for you, George," said Joe, kindly; "it's no
good us going up. _We_ sha'n't see it. It isn't meant for us."

"'Ow d'yer know it's a ghost," said a third voice, impatiently; "very
likely while you're all jawing about it down 'ere it's a-burglin' the
offis."

Joe gave a startled grunt, and, rolling out of his bunk, grabbed his
trousers, and began to dress. Three other shadowy forms followed suit,
and, hastily dressing, followed the watchman on deck and gained the
wharf. They went through the gloomy ground floor in a body, yawning
sleepily.

"I shouldn't like to be a watchman," said a young ordinary seaman named
Tim, with a shiver; "a ghost might easy do anything with you while you
was all alone. P'r'aps it walks up an' down behind you, George, makin'
faces. We shall be gorn in another hour, George."

The office, when they reached it, was undisturbed, and, staying only
long enough to drink the watchman's coffee, which was heating on a
gas-jet, they left it and began to search the wharf, Joe leading with a
small lantern.

"Are we all 'ere?" demanded Tim, suddenly.

"I am," said the cook, emphatically.

"'Cos I s