It was absolutely quiet. The only sound was the gentle swish of the water against the sides of the ship. The engine was running so slowly that it caused no noise.
Half way on his journey to the conning tower Mark paused. There, advancing toward him, was the white object. With outstretched arms it glided nearer and nearer until Mark's heart was beating as if it would burst through his ribs. His mouth was dry and he could not have cried out had he tried.
There was a splash in the water off to the left as some big fish sprang out and dropped back again. Involuntarily Mark turned in that direction. Then he thought of the ghost and looked for it again. To his surprise the white object was nowhere to be seen!
The boy waited a few minutes, and then, screwing up his courage, he went to the tower. There was no one inside, and, along the length of deck nothing was to be seen of the ghost.
"I wonder if I have been asleep and dreaming," the boy asked himself. He gave his leg a pinch, and the sensation of pain told him he was not slumbering.
"Well, I'll say nothing about it," Mark went on to himself. "They'll only laugh at me."
Entering the tower Mark looked for the glasses in order to make another observation. He could not find them, yet he was sure he had left them on a shelf in the tower.
"I wonder if the ghost took them," he said.
He heard some one coming up the iron stairs of the small companionway that led down into the interior of the ship through the man-hole. At first he thought it was his queer midnight visitor returning. Then the head and shoulders of Jack appeared.
"I've come to relieve you," said Jack. "Your watch is up; it's two o'clock. Here are the night glasses. I found them on the cabin table. I thought you had them with you."