swaying, for some moments, and then glided slowly
down the mast until it reached the jib-stay, down which it slid to the
bowsprit, whence, after wavering for a few seconds, it travelled along
the bowsprit, inboard, and vanished, not, however, until it had revealed
by its corpse-like light the horror-stricken features of some half a
dozen of the watch huddled together on the forecastle, in attitudes
every curve and bend of which were eloquent of consternation.
"That's a bad sign, sir; so they say," remarked Saunders, my chief mate,
whose watch it was.
"What? The appearance of that light?" demanded I.
"Not so much the appearance of it, sir, but the way that it travelled.
They say that if a corposant appears aboard a vessel and stays aloft, or
travels upwards, it's all right; but if it comes down from aloft, it
means a heavy gale of wind at the very least," answered Saunders.
"Pooh!" said I; "mere superstition. Everybody knows nowadays that a
corposant is nothing whatever but an electrical phenomenon, and
therefore merely an indication that the atmosphere is surcharged with
electricity. As to whether it travels up or down, that, in my opinion,
is mere chance or accident, call it which you will."
"Have you ever seen any of those things before, sir?" inquired the mate.
"No," said I; "this is the first time that I have ever been shipmates
with one."
"Ah!" remarked the mate, with a distinct accent of superior experience
in his tone; "I've seen 'em often enough; too often, I may say. Why,
there was one time when I was aboard the little _Fox_, bound from
Jamaica to New Providence. We were lying becalmed, just as we are to-
night, close to the Diamond Bank, and with pretty much the same sort of
weather, too, when one of them things boarded us, making its appearance
on the spindle of the vane at our main-topmast head. It wavered about
for a minute or two, exactly like that thing just now, and then rolled,
as it might be, down the spar until it met the topmast-stay, down which
it travelled to the foremast-head, and from thence it came down the
topsail sheet to the deck, where it bursted. Ten minutes after that
happened, sir, we were struck by a squall that hove us over on our beam-
ends. We had to cut both masts away before she would right with us, and
when at length she rose to an even keel, there was five feet of water in
the hold. Of course we could do nothing but scud before it, and, the
squall hardening
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