“Come now, captain,” said I, breaking the pause that followed the deacon's story, “give us your story. You've been all over the world, in all times and all weathers, and you ain't a man to be taken in. Did you ever see any thing of this sort?”
“Well, now, boys, since you put it straight at me, I don't care if I say I have,—on these 'ere very waters we're a-sailin' over now, on board this very schooner, in this very cabin.”
This was bringing matters close home. We felt an agreeable shiver, and looked over our shoulders: the deacon, in his berth, raised up on his elbow, and ejaculated, “Dew tell! ye don't say so!”
“Tell us about it, captain,” we both insisted. “We 'll take your word for most any thing.”
“Well, it happened about five years ago. It's goin' on now eight years ago that my father died. He sailed out of Gloucester: had his house there; and, after he died, mother, she jest kep' on in the old place. I went down at first to see her fixed up about right, and after that I went now and then, and now and then I sent money. Well, it was about Thanksgiving time, as it is now, and I'd ben down to Boston, and was coming back pretty well loaded with the things I'd been buying in Boston for Thanksgiving at home,—raisins and sugar, and all sorts of West Ingy goods, for the folks in Harpswell. Well, I meant to have gone down to Gloucester to see mother; but I had so many ways to run, and so much to do, I was afraid I wouldn't be back on time; and so I didn't see her.
“Well, we was driving back with a good stiff breeze, and we'd got past Cape Ann, and I'd gone down and turned in, and was fast asleep in my berth. It was past midnight: every one on the schooner asleep, except the mate, who was up on the watch. I was sleepin' as sound as ever I slept in my life,—not a dream, nor a feelin', no more'n if I had been dead,—when suddenly I waked square up. My eyes flew open like a spring, with my mind clear and wide awake, and, sure as I ever see any thing, I see my father standing right in the middle of the cabin, looking right at me. I rose right up in my berth, and says I,—
“'Father, is that you?'
“'Yes,' says he, 'it is me.'
“'Father,' says I, 'what do you come for?'
“'Sam,' says he, 'do you go right back to Gloucester, and take your mother home with you, and keep her there as long as she lives.'