of a bar from
the spot where we stood, came out an old woman bent with age, and
leaning on a crutch. "I heard the voice of that lad Andrew Lammie;
can the chield be drowning, that he skirls sae uncannilie?" said
the old woman, seating herself on the ground, and looking earnestly
at the water. "Ou aye," she continued, "he's doomed, he's doomed;
heart and hand can never save him; boats, ropes, and man's strength,
and wit, all vain! vain! he's doomed, he's doomed!"

By this time I had thrown myself into the shallop, followed reluctantly
by Richard Faulder, over whose courage and kindness of heart
superstition had great power; and with one push from the shore,
and some exertion in sculling, we came within a quoitcast of the
unfortunate fisherman. He stayed not to profit by our aid; for
when he perceived us near, he uttered a piercing shriek of joy,
and bounded toward us through the agitated element the full length
of an oar. I saw him for a second on the surface of the water;
but the eddying current sucked him down; and all I ever beheld
of him again was his hand held above the flood, and clutching in
agony at some imaginary aid. I sat gazing in horror on the vacant
sea before us: but a breathing time before, a human being, full
of youth and strength and hope, was there: his cries were still
ringing in my ears and echoing in the woods; and now nothing was
seen or heard save the turbulent expanse of water, and the sound of
its chafing on the shores. We pushed back our shallop, and resumed
our station on the cliff beside the old mariner and his descendant.

"Wherefore sought ye to peril your own lives fruitlessly," said
Mark, "in attempting to save the doomed? Whoso touches those infernal
ships, never survives to tell the tale. Woe to the man who is found
nigh them at midnight when the tide has subsided, and they arise
in their former beauty, with forecastle, and deck, and sail, and
pennon, and shroud! Then is seen the streaming of lights along
the water from their cabin windows, and then is heard the sound
of mirth and the clamor of tongues, and the infernal whoop and
halloo, and song, ringing far and wide. Woe to the man who comes
nigh them!"

To all this my Allanbay companion listened with a breathless attention.
I felt something touched with a superstition to which I partly
believed I had seen one victim offered up; and I inquired of the
old mariner, "How and when came these haunted ships there? To me
they seem but