o the creaking of the ship's timbers as she rose
to the swell, and watching the lamp, which was slung from the
ceiling, and gave light enough to make out the other hammocks
swinging slowly altogether. At last, however, I dropped off, and
I reckon I must have been asleep about an hour, when I woke with
a start. For the first moment I didn't see anything but the
swinging hammocks and the lamp; but then suddenly I became aware
that some one was standing by my hammock, and I saw the figure as
plainly as I see any one of you now, for the foot of the hammock
was close to the lamp, and the light struck full across on the
head and shoulders, which was all that I could see of him. There
he was, the old Commodore; his grizzled hair coming out from
under a red woolen nightcap, and his shoulders wrapped in an old
thread-bare blue dressing-gown which I had often seen him in. His
face looked pale and drawn, and there was a wistful disappointed
look about the eyes. I was so taken aback I could not speak, but
lay watching him. He looked full at my face once or twice, but
didn't seem to recognise me; and, just as I was getting back my
tongue and going to speak, he said slowly: "Where's Tom? this is
his hammock. I can't see Tom;" and then he looked vaguely about
and passed away somehow, but how, I couldn't see. In a moment or
two I jumped out and hurried to my cabin, but young Holdsworth
was fast asleep. I sat down, and wrote down just what I had seen,
making a note of the exact time, twenty minutes to two. I didn't
turn in again, but sat watching the youngster. When he woke I
asked him if he had heard anything of his great uncle by the last
mail. Yes, he had heard; the old gentleman was rather feeble, but
nothing particular the matter. I kept my own counsel and never
told a soul in the ship; and, when the mail came to hand a few
days afterwards with a letter from the Commodore to his nephew,
dated late in September, saying that he was well, I thought the
figure by my hammock must have been all my own fancy.

However, by the next mail came the news of the old Commodore's
death. It had been a very sudden break up, his executor said. He
had left all his property, which was not much, to his great
nephew, who was to get leave to come home as soon as he could.

The first time we touched at Malta, Tom Holdsworth left us and
went home. We followed about two years afterwards, and the first
thing I did after landing was to find out the Commodo