is, all except one young fellow, a cockney, who had stuck by the
ship in port. He told me afterwards, when I got to know him, that he
intended to draw a pay-day out of her, whether any one else did, or not.

The first night I was in her, I found that it was common talk among the
other fellows, that there was something queer about the ship. They spoke
of her as if it were an accepted fact that she was haunted; yet they all
treated the matter as a joke; all, that is, except the young cockney--
Williams--who, instead of laughing at their jests on the subject, seemed
to take the whole matter seriously.

This made me rather curious. I began to wonder whether there was, after
all, some truth underlying the vague stories I had heard; and I took the
first opportunity to ask him whether he had any reasons for believing
that there was anything in the yarns about the ship.

At first he was inclined to be a bit offish; but, presently, he came
round, and told me that he did not know of any particular incident which
could be called unusual in the sense in which I meant. Yet that, at the
same time, there were lots of little things which, if you put them
together, made you think a bit. For instance, she always made such long
passages and had so much dirty weather--nothing but that and calms and
head winds. Then, other things happened; sails that he knew, himself,
had been properly stowed, were always blowing adrift _at night_. And
then he said a thing that surprised me.

"There's too many bloomin' shadders about this 'ere packet; they gets
onter yer nerves like nothin' as ever I seen before in me nat'ral."

He blurted it all out in a heap, and I turned round and looked at him.

"Too many shadows!" I said. "What on earth do you mean?" But he refused
to explain himself or tell me anything further--just shook his head,
stupidly, when I questioned him. He seemed to have taken a sudden, sulky
fit. I felt certain that he was acting dense, purposely. I believe the
truth of the matter is that he was, in a way, ashamed of having let
himself go like he had, in speaking out his thoughts about "shadders."
That type of man may think things at times; but he doesn't often put
them into words. Anyhow, I saw it was no use asking any further
questions; so I let the matter drop there. Yet, for several days
afterwards, I caught myself wondering, at times, what the fellow had
meant by "shadders."

We left 'Frisco next day, with a fine, fair wind, th