ell you," said he, and looked round for a place to knock out his
pipe. I passed him the ash-bowl that Mac brought back from Mexico when
he went down there to do a bird's-eye view for a mining company. Mr.
Carville held it up to examine the crude red and blue daub on the pale
glaze.

"I suppose," he began, "that of all the meetings I've had with my
brother, this last one was the most unusual. It was unusual enough, that
time in the _Parque Colon_, when he grabbed my neck in the dark; but
this last meeting beats that, I think. It's funny how a quiet,
respectable man like me should have such experiences, isn't it?

"I ought to explain that the _Raritan_, like all oil tank steamers, has
her engines aft. The captain and mates live amidships under the bridge,
while we engineers all live in the poop, under the quarter-deck, as they
call it in the Navy. There is a long gangway between the two houses, but
as a general thing we live apart. We have our own pantry and steward and
we can go straight out of our berths into the engine-room without coming
on deck at all.

"It was the second night after we left Bremerhaven that this happened
and about ten minutes after eight bells, midnight. I keep the eight to
twelve watch with the Fourth, you see, and it often happens that I don't
feel like turning in right away. It was a clear yet dark night without a
ripple on the sea. It had been one of those calm days that we have in
English waters in winter time, a pale sun shining through a light haze,
cold yet pleasant. I'd seen the Third tumble down the ladder and heard
the Fourth put his door on the hook. Down below there was the quick
thump of the engines, the rattle of the ashes being shovelled into the
ejector, and the click of oil-cup lids as the Third went round the
bearings. Everything seemed in fair trim for a quiet night. I walked up
and down the deck for a spell, finishing my pipe, and then I was
standing by the stern light, an electric fixed on the after side of the
scuttle. A good way to the westward was the Kentish Knock Lightship. I
was leaning against the bulkhead, smoking and thinking of things in
general, you may say, and wondering what the Second would do next, when
I saw three green lights, very low on our starboard quarter. I don't
think I was much struck by them at first. Might have been a trawler. The
Second Mate told me afterwards that after the Old Man had gone down he
saw a green light and thought it was the Harwich