Owing to head winds, our passage was longer than the average. A strange thing happened towards the end of it. We had turned in for sleep one night, when I woke to the consciousness that Dennis had got out of his berth, and was climbing past mine, but I was so sleepy that I did not speak, and was only sure that it was not a dream, when Alister and I went on deck for the next watch, and found Dennis walking up and down in the morning mist.
“Have you had no sleep?” I asked, for his face looked haggard.
“I couldn’t. For dreaming,” he said, awkwardly.
I laughed at him.
“What have you been dreaming about?”
“Don’t laugh, Jack. I dreamt of Barney.”
“Well, that’s natural enough, Dennis. This end of the voyage must recall the poor fellow.”
“I wouldn’t mind if it was a kindly dream. But I dreamed he’d an old woman’s bonnet on and a handkerchief tied over it. It haunts me.”
“Go back to bed,” I advised. “Perhaps you’ll dream of him again looking like himself, and that will put this out of your head.”
Dennis took my advice, and I stood Alister’s watch with him, and by and by Dennis appeared on deck again looking more at ease.