“Look here,” said the skipper, turning to the mate, and indicating the culprits with his hand; “perhaps you’ll disbelieve in dreams now.”
“’Straordinary!” said the mate, rubbing his eyes, as Bill stood sullenly waiting events, while the miserable Tommy skulked behind him.
“I’ve heard o’ such things,” continued the skipper, in impressive tones, “but I never expected to see it You can’t say you haven’t seen a ghost now, Bob.”
“’Straordinary!” said the mate, shaking his head again. “Lifelike!”
“The ship’s haunted, Ned,” cried the skipper in hollow tones. “Here’s the sperrits o’ Bill and the boy standing agin the windlass.”
The bewildered old seaman made no reply; the smaller spirit sniffed and wiped his nose on his cuff, and the larger one began to whistle softly.
“Poor things!” said the skipper, after they had discussed these extraordinary apparitions for some time. “Can you see the windlass through the boy, Bob?”
“I can see through both of ’em,” said the mate slyly.
They stayed on deck a little longer, and then coming to the conclusion that their presence on deck could do no good, and indeed seemed only to embarrass their visitors, went below again, leaving all hands a prey to the wildest astonishment.
“Wot’s ’is little game?” asked Simpson, coming cautiously up on deck.