“What do you think the ghost wanted of you, Judith?” inquired Lieutenant Ethel.
This was an unlucky question for Judith’s equanimity. It set her speculating in horrors.
“What it wanted iv me, is it? Ah, Lorrd kape us, who can tell! Maybe to warn me iv another shipwreck, whin we would all be dhrowned. Or another say fight, whin we should all be murthered. Or at laste of me own death itself. Sure a ghost nivir appears for nothing.”
“Never,” said Lieutenant Ethel, mischievously.
“Ow-oo! Ow-ootch!” screamed Judith, falling into fresh spasms.
And it became necessary to give her more brandy. And then Miss Conyers coaxed her off into her stateroom and made her go to bed, and sat with her until, under the influence of the brandy she had taken, Judith fell asleep.
“What could have frightened her so?” inquired Miss Conyers, as she came out into the cabin.
“It was as you suggested, either a dream of the figure of one of our convalescent wounded men, I suppose,” said young Ethel.
And this explanation seemed so plausible that it was adopted by all.
“You have very little good of your attendant, I fear, Miss Conyers. Since I have known her she has certainly been more trouble than use,” said the lieutenant.