shaking his
head, "look'ee, Mart'n, 'tis in my mind the devil's aboard this ship."

"And what then?" I demanded angrily. "Am I a raree show to be peeped
at and watched and spied upon?"

"Anan, pal--watched, d'ye say?"

"Aye, stared at through the knot-hole yonder awhile since by you or
Penfeather."

"Never knowed there was a knot-hole, Mart'n," said he in the same
hushed voice and staring at the thing, "and as for Cap'n Adam he aren't
been anigh you this two days. But 'tis all one, pal, all one--this
ship do be haunted. And as for eyes a-watching of ye, Martin, who
should it be but this here ghost as walketh the ship o'nights and makes
away wi' good men."

"How d'ye mean?" I questioned, reaching the ale he had brought. "What
talk is this of ghosts?"

"What's yon?" he whispered, starting up, as a rustling sounded beyond
the door.

"Mere rats, man!"

"Lord love ye, Mart'n," says he, glancing about him, "'tis a chancy
place this. I don't know how ye can abide it."

"I've known worse!" said I.

"Then ye don't believe in spectres, Mart'n--ghosts, pal, nor yet
phantoms?"

"No, I don't!"

"Well, Mart'n, there be strange talk among the crew o' something as do
haunt the 'tween-decks--"

"Aye, I've overheard some such!" I nodded. "But, look ye, I've haunted
the ship myself of late."

"And yet you've seen nowt o' this thing, pal?"

"No. What thing should I see?"

"Who knows, Martin? But the sea aren't the land, and here on these
wild wastes o' waters there's chancy things beyond any man's wisdom as
any mariner'll--ha, what's yon?" says he under his breath and whipping
round, knife in hand. "'Twas like a shoeless foot, Mart'n ... creeping
murder ... 'Tis there again!" Speaking, he tore open the door and I saw
his knife flash as he sprang into the darkness beyond; as for me I
quaffed my ale. Presently back he comes, claps to the door (mighty
careful) and sinking upon the upturned cask, mops at his brow.

"Content you, Godby," says I, "here be no ghosts--"

"Soft, lad--speak soft!" he whispered. "For--Lord love you, Mart'n,
'tis worse than ghosts as I do fear! Dog bite me, pal, here's been
black and bloody doings aboard us this last two nights."

"How so, Godby?" I questioned, lowering my voice in turn as I met his
look.

"I mean, lad, as this thing--call it ghost or what ye will--has took
three men these last two nights. There's Perks o' Deptford, McLean as
hails from Leith, and Treliving the