And this was kept up long after they failed to distinguish each other’s faces, and until the ships themselves were out of each other’s sight.
One evening, about the fifth day from that on which they left the Cape, Lieutenant Ethel, Justin, Britomarte and a young midshipman were seated around the cabin table engaged in a rubber of whist, when they were all startled by piercing shrieks, followed immediately by the form of the girl, who came pitching, tumbling and rolling down the companion ladder, and fell upon the cabin floor.
All the company around the table sprang up simultaneously. And Justin rushed to Judith and raised her up, while Britomarte eagerly inquired what the matter was.
“Oh, it’s the ghost! the ghost!” gasped Judith, beside herself with terror.
“What ghost, girl? Are you mad?” said Justin.
“Oh, the ghost iv me swateheart, sure!” sobbed Judith, white and shaking in her panic.
“Nonsense,” laughed Justin; “ghost, indeed! I’d like to see one, for once. What does a ghost look like, Judith?”
“Och, a raw head and bloody bones it was! Ow-oo! Ow-ootch!” she screamed, covering up her face and falling into spasms.
“Give her some brandy,” suggested the young midshipman.
And Lieutenant Ethel called the steward, and had a glass of brandy brought immediately and poured down her throat. It seemed to do her good. They set her back in an armchair, and Britomarte said: