reached the bottom of the stairs he stood still and
thought.

"He's an awful ruffian, with all his gentlemanly airs. No more gentleman
mates for me."

Two nights afterwards he was slumbering peacefully in his berth, when a
heavy thumping just above his head (a well-understood signal that he was
wanted on deck) made him leap out of bed, broad awake in a moment.

"What's up?" he muttered, running out barefooted. On passing through the
cabin he glanced at the clock. It was the middle watch. "What on earth
can the mate want me for?" he thought.

Bolting out of the companion, he found a clear, dewy moonlit night and a
strong, steady breeze. He looked around wildly. There was no one on the
poop except the helmsman, who addressed him at once.

"It was me, sir. I let go the wheel for a second to stamp over your
head. I am afraid there's something wrong with the mate."

"Where's he got to?" asked the captain sharply.

The man, who was obviously nervous, said:

"The last I saw of him was as he-fell down the port poop-ladder."

"Fell down the poop-ladder! What did he do that for? What made him?"

"I don't know, sir. He was walking the port side. Then just as he turned
towards me to come aft..."

"You saw him?" interrupted the captain.

"I did. I was looking at him. And I heard the crash, too--something
awful. Like the mainmast going overboard. It was as if something had
struck him."

Captain Johns became very uneasy and alarmed. "Come," he said sharply.
"Did anybody strike him? What did you see?"

"Nothing, sir, so help me! There was nothing to see. He just gave
a little sort of hallo! threw his hands before him, and over he
went--crash. I couldn't hear anything more, so I just let go the wheel
for a second to call you up."

"You're scared!" said Captain Johns. "I am, sir, straight!"

Captain Johns stared at him. The silence of his ship driving on her way
seemed to contain a danger--a mystery. He was reluctant to go and look
for his mate himself, in the shadows of the main-deck, so quiet, so
still.

All he did was to advance to the break of the poop, and call for the
watch. As the sleepy men came trooping aft, he shouted to them fiercely:

"Look at the foot of the port poop-ladder, some of you! See the mate
lying there?"

Their startled exclamations told him immediately that they did see him.
Somebody even screeched out emotionally: "He's dead!"

Mr. Bunter was laid in his bunk and when the lamp in his ro