Captain Nelson was standing under the after house, still gazing astern, when I went to report to him. Half a dozen men, including the sailmaker who performed the duties of carpenter, and the cooper, had been sent below to see whether the Clearchus had been damaged by the collision, but the old man did not seem worried. I asked him about it, no doubt a piece of impertinence on my part.
He shook his head. “Did n’t you see where we had run over her? Did n’t even scrape off the whole of the weed. Glancing blow.”
“What sort of a vessel was it, sir? Do you think it was a whaler?”
He shook his head again. “Not a whaler. No copper on her bottom.” Then he smiled suddenly, for he had seen the whole of my performance. “See anything up there?”
I told him that I thought I had seen a boat, but I could not be sure, there was so much mirage or something.
“Looked like a boat, did it?”
“Yes, sir. Like the bow of a boat. I could n’t see it very well. It was the color of the water, and it looked as if it was cut off, but I don’t suppose it was. There was something that looked like a flag or something.”
Captain Nelson smiled more broadly. “May have been a flag or something. How far off?”
“Eight miles, perhaps. I don’t know.”
“Well, the lookout has n’t reported it, and I ’m afraid you did n’t see anything. I did n’t know but you had seen a ghost, you came down so fast.”