gh the
Parson. Still, jest now, in this here fog,--an' in the calm, too,--if
a Moosoo was to come along, why, I railly don't--quite--know--what--I
could--railly do."

"The fog! O, in the fog you'll be all right enough, you know," said
Claude.

"O, but that's the very thing I don't know," said Zac. "That thar
pint's the very identical pint that I don't feel at all clear about,
an' would like to have settled."

Claude said nothing for a few moments. He now began to notice in the
face, the tone, and the manner of Zac something very different from
usual--a certain uneasiness approaching to anxiety, which seemed to
be founded on something which he had not yet disclosed.

"What do you mean?" he asked, rather gravely, suddenly dropping his
air of light banter.

Zac drew a long breath.

"Wal," said he, "this here fog makes it very easy for a Moosoo to
haul up alongside all of a suddent, an' ax you for your papers. An'
what's more," he continued, dropping his voice to a lower tone, and
stooping, to bring his mouth nearer to Claude's ear, "what's more, I
don't know but what, at this very moment, there's a Moosoo railly an'
truly a little mite nearer to us than I altogether keer for to hev
him."

"What!" exclaimed Claude, with a start; "do you really think so?
What! near us, here in this fog?"

"Railly an' truly," said Zac, solemnly, "that's my identical
meanin'--jest it, exactly; an' 'tain't overly pleasant, no how. See
here;" and Zac dropped his voice to still lower tones, and drew still
nearer to Claude, as he continued--"see here, now; I'll tell you what
happened jest now. As I was a standin' here, jest afore you come up,
I thought I heerd voices out thar on the starboard quarter
--voices--"

"Voices!" said Claude. "O, nonsense! Voices! How can there be voices
out there? It must have been the water."

"Wal," continued Zac, still speaking in a low tone, "that's the very
thing I thought when I fust heerd 'em; I thought, too, it must be the
water. But, if you jest take the trouble to examine, you'll find that
thur ain't enough motion in the water to make any sound at all.
'Tain't as if thar was a puffin' of the wind an a dashin' of the
waves. Thar ain't no wind an' no waves, unfort'nat'ly; so it seems
beyond a doubt that it must either be actooal voices, or else
somethin' supernat'ral. An' for my part I'd give somethin' for the
wind to rise jest a leetle mite, so's I could step off out o' this,
an' git out o' hear