"I did, sir."
"Wasn't it some one on deck, or didn't you imagine it?" inquired Captain Barton.
"I did not, sir," replied the old sailor, doggedly. "It was in the after compartment, sir."
"And what sort of a voice was it?" asked Dick, "and what did it say?"
"It was a voice, sir, like some one in pain, and it called 'Help! Help! Help!' three times, just like that."
"Well, why didn't you look further, see who it was, and help 'em?" demanded the captain. "Maybe it was one of the crew, who had fallen and broken his leg. Why didn't you look further?"
"Because, sir," answered Widdy, "it ain't healthy to help mermaids, an' Jim Carter an' me ran out as soon as we heard her voice. It was the mermaid, sure, an' all on this ship are doomed, Davy Jones has rooms all ready for us in his locker."
"Don't be an idiot!" cried Captain Barton, sharply. "There are no such things as mermaids."
"That lobsterman was one," insisted Widdy. "He vanished into fog as soon as he got out of sight, an' turned into a mermaid, an' come aboard. She's here now."
"I suppose the lobsters he left us were mermaid lobsters, too," suggested the commander, trying to make the old sailor see how foolish was his superstition.