“Puzzles me,” he said, changing the subject suddenly.
“What: how to find the birds and reptiles among the leaves of the great trees?”
“No, no,” said the mate impatiently. “I mean, how it was this straw hat of mine came on board.”
Then, in a hoarse whisper: “Mr Leigh, sir: look—look there!”
He stretched out his hand with the hat in it, using it to point towards the spot where one folding-chair stood, dimly seen, close up to the starboard bulwark.
“Well, I see it,” said Brace. “It does not seem any the worse for coming on board without you.”
“But I can’t make it out,” whispered the man, in a strange way. “I hung it up in the American gent’s room—the one you had, sir—and the last I remember is seeing him sitting opposite to me across the table; and now look there. See him?”
“No,” said Brace; “I can see no him. What do you mean?”
“The American,” whispered Lynton, catching the young man by the arm. “There, can’t you see him sitting in the dark yonder?”
“No,” said Brace quietly. “I say, Mr Lynton, you’ll be better when you’ve had a good night’s rest. You talk as if you could see a ghost.”