him overboard. I ain't
partic'lar, as a rule, and I don't take no blame for settling his hash;
but I don't reckon him ornamental, now, do you?"

"I'm not strong enough, and I don't like the job; and there he lies, for
me," said I.

"This here's an unlucky ship--the _Hispaniola_, Jim," he went on,
blinking. "There's a power of men been killed in this _Hispaniola_--a
sight o' poor seamen dead and gone since you and me took ship to
Bristol. I never seen such dirty luck, not I. There was this here
O'Brien, now--he's dead, ain't he? Well, now, I'm no scholar, and you're
a lad as can read and figure; and, to put it straight, do you take it as
a dead man is dead for good, or do he come alive again?"

"You can kill the body, Mr. Hands, but not the spirit; you must know
that already," I replied. "O'Brien, there, is in another world, and may
be watching us."

"Ah!" says he. "Well, that's unfort'nate--appears as if killing parties
was a waste of time. Howsomever, sperrits don't reckon for much, by what
I've seen. I'll chance it with the sperrits, Jim. And now you've spoke
up free, and I'll take it kind if you'd step down into that there cabin
and get me a--well, a--shiver my timbers! I can't hit the name on't.
Well, you get me a bottle of wine, Jim--this here brandy's too strong
for my head."

Now the coxswain's hesitation seemed to be unnatural; and as for the
notion of his preferring wine to brandy, I entirely disbelieved it. The
whole story was a pretext. He wanted me to leave the deck--so much was
plain, but with what purpose I could in no way imagine. His eyes never
met mine; they kept wandering to and fro, up and down, now with a look
to the sky, now with a flitting glance upon the dead O'Brien. All the
time he kept smiling and putting his tongue out in the most guilty,
embarrassed manner, so that a child could have told that he was bent on
some deception. I was prompt with my answer, however, for I saw where my
advantage lay, and that with a fellow so densely stupid I could easily
conceal my suspicions to the end.

"Some wine?" I said. "Far better. Will you have white or red?"

"Well, I reckon it's about the blessed same to me, shipmate," he
replied; "so it's strong, and plenty of it, what's the odds?"

"All right," I answered. "I'll bring you port, Mr. Hands. But I'll have
to dig for it."

With that I scuttled down the companion with all the noise I could,
slipped off my shoes, ran quietly along the sparred gal