“I recollect when I was on a Mediterranean voyage how we were frightened with noises, sure enough,” observed one of the men.
“Come, that’s right, Dick, give us a yarn,” said the others.
“Yes,” replied Dick, “and it’s a true yarn too, and all about a ghost.”
“Well, I stop a moment,” said one of the men, “and let us top this glim a bit before you begin, for it seemed to get dimmer the moment you talked about a ghost.”
Dick waited till a little more light was obtained, and then commenced. “I had shipped on board of a vessel bound to Smyrna, now about seven years ago. We had gone down to Portsmouth, where we waited for one of the partners of the house by which we had been freighted, and who was going out as passenger. We were a man short, and the captain went on shore to get one from the crimps, whom he knew very well, and the fellows promised to send one on board the next morning. Well, sure enough a wherry came off with him just before break of day, and he and his traps were taken on board; but it was not perceived at the time what he had in his arms under his grego, and what do you think it proved to be at daylight? Why, a large black tom cat.”
“What, a black one?”
“Yes, as black as the enemy himself. The fellow came down forward with it, and so says I, ‘Why, messmate, you’re not going to take that animal to sea with us?’
“‘Yes, I am,’ said he, very surlily; ‘it’s an old friend of mine, and I never parts with him.’
“‘Well,’ says I, ‘you’ll find the difference when the captain hears on it, I can tell you, and, for the matter of that, I won’t promise you that it will be very safe if it comes near me when I’ve a handspike in my hand.’
“‘I tell you what,’ says he, ‘it ain’t the taking of a cat on board what brings mischief, but it’s turning one out of a ship what occasions ill luck. No cat ever sunk a ship till the animal was hove overboard and sunk first itself, and then it does drag the ship down after it.’