ck person really believes
in a doctor who jokes. I defy you to show me a man at the head of our
profession who has ever been discovered in high spirits (in medical
hours) by his nearest and dearest friend. You may have wondered, I dare
say, at seeing me take your strange narrative as coolly as I do. It
comes naturally, sir. Yours is not the first story of a ghost and a
pencil that I have heard."

"Do you mean to tell me," I said, "that you know of another man who has
seen what I have seen?"

"That's just what I mean to tell you," rejoined the doctor. "The man was
a far-away Scots cousin of my late wife, who bore the honorable name
of Bruce, and followed a seafaring life. I'll take another glass of the
sherry wine, just to wet my whistle, as the vulgar saying is, before
I begin. Well, you must know, Bruce was mate of a bark at the time I'm
speaking of, and he was on a voyage from Liverpool to New Brunswick. At
noon one day, he and the captain, having taken their observation of the
sun, were hard at it below, working out the latitude and longitude on
their slates. Bruce, in his cabin, looked across through the open door
of the captain's cabin opposite. 'What do you make it, sir?' says Brace.
The man in the captain's cabin looked up. And what did Bruce see? The
face of the captain? Devil a bit of it--the face of a total stranger!
Up jumps Bruce, with his heart going full gallop all in a moment, and
searches for the captain on deck, and finds him much as usual, with his
calculations done, and his latitude and longitude off his mind for the
day. 'There's somebody at your des k, sir,' says Bruce. 'He's writing on
your slate; and he's a total stranger to me.' 'A stranger in my cabin?'
says the captain. 'Why, Mr. Bruce, the ship has been six weeks out of
port. How did he get on board?' Bruce doesn't know how, but he sticks to
his story. Away goes the captain, and bursts like a whirlwind into his
cabin, and finds nobody there. Bruce himself is obliged to acknowledge
that the place is certainly empty. 'If I didn't know you were a sober
man,' says the captain, 'I should charge you with drinking. As it is,
I'll hold you accountable for nothing worse than dreaming. Don't do it
again, Mr. Bruce.' Bruce sticks to his story; Bruce swears he saw the
man writing on the captain's slate. The captain takes up the slate and
looks at it. 'Lord save us and bless us!' says he; 'here the writing is,
sure enough!' Bruce looks at it too, and sees