never be able to find
out from him now."

For a few moments, he was silent. Then he went off on another track.

"Doesn't anything ever happen in the Mate's watch?"

"Yes," I answered. "There's several things happened lately, that seem
pretty queer. Some of his side have been talking about them. But he's
too jolly pig-headed to see anything. He just curses his chaps, and puts
it all down to them."

"Still," he persisted, "things seem to happen more in our watch than in
his--I mean, bigger things. Look at tonight."

"We've no proof, you know," I said.

He shook his head, doubtfully.

"I shall always funk going aloft, now."

"Nonsense!" I told him. "It may only have been an accident."

"Don't!" he said. "You know you don't think so, really."

I answered nothing, just then; for I knew very well that he was right.
We were silent for a couple of moments.

Then he spoke again:

"Is the ship haunted?"

For an instant I hesitated.

"No," I said, at length. "I don't think she is. I mean, not in that
way."

"What way, then?"

"Well, I've formed a bit of a theory, that seems wise one minute, and
cracked the next. Of course, it's as likely to be all wrong; but it's
the only thing that seems to me to fit in with all the beastly things
we've had lately."

"Go on!" he said, with an impatient, nervous movement.

"Well, I've an idea that it's nothing _in_ the ship that's likely to
hurt us. I scarcely know how to put it; but, if I'm right in what I
think, it's the ship herself that's the cause of everything."

"What do you mean?" he asked, in a puzzled voice. "Do you mean that the
ship _is_ haunted, after all?"

"No!" I answered. "I've just told you I didn't. Wait until I've finished
what I was going to say."

"All right!" he said.

"About that thing you saw tonight," I went on. "You say it came over the
lee rail, up on to the poop?"

"Yes," he answered.

"Well, the thing I saw, _came up out of the sea, and went back into the
sea_."

"Jove!" he said; and then: "Yes, go on!"

"My idea is, that this ship is open to be boarded by those things," I
explained. "What they are, of course I don't know. They look like men--
in lots of ways. But--well, the Lord knows what's in the sea. Though we
don't want to go imagining silly things, of course. And then, again, you
know, it seems fat-headed, calling anything silly. That's how I keep
going, in a sort of blessed circle. I don't know a bit whether they're
flesh a