“That’s it, sir; that’s it,” whispered the man wildly. “Come away—come away.”
“Nonsense, man. There’s nothing over yonder, only—”
Brace stopped short in blank astonishment, for the nearest lanthorn turned round a little as the brig heeled over, and there, faintly seen, and looking strangely transparent, the seated figure of the inquisitive American seemed to loom out of the shadow.
But the startled fancy that it might be anything supernatural passed away in an instant, and he felt ready to laugh at the superstitious sailor, as he saw a glowing spot of light about on a level with the figure’s lips, and directly after smelt the peculiar odour of tobacco as it was wafted to him by the warm night air.
“Come away,” whispered the mate, gripping Brace’s arm with painful force.
“Nonsense,” said Brace firmly. “That’s how your hat came on board.”
“Ugh!” ejaculated the mate, and he sent the straw hat he held whirring away from him with all his might.
He meant to have sent it overboard, but straw hats have boomerang-like ways of behaving peculiar to themselves, as most wearers know to their cost; and the one in question, instead of rising and skimming like a swallow over the bulwark and dropping into the sea, performed a peculiar evolution, turned in the direction of the group under the awning, dived down, rose again, just touching Sir Humphrey’s ear, missing the first mate, and striking the captain with its saw-like revolving edge just below the chin.
“Here, hullo!” roared the latter gentleman; “what are you about?”
“Guess it warn’t a bad throw, though, in the dark,” said a familiar voice, which made the captain spring to his feet with a cry of astonishment; and the next moment the group from beneath the awning were gathered about the imperturbable smoker seated in the folding-chair.