. An', let me tell you, shipmates," added Tim, in conclusion,
with the air of a philosopher, "_all_ ghosts is o' the same sort.
They're most of 'em made o' wood or brass, or some sich stuff, as I've
good cause to remimber, for I had to pay the price o' that 'ere ghost
before I left that there hinn on the lonesome moor, and for the washin'
of the blankets, too, as wos all kivered with blood nixt mornin' from my
smashed knuckles. There's a morial contained in most things, lads, if
ye only try for to find it out; an' the morial of my story is this--
don't ye go for to b'lieve that everything ye don't 'xactly understand
is a ghost until ye've got to know more about it."

While Tim Rokens was thus recounting his ghostly experiences, and
moralising thereon, for the benefit of his comrades, the silent tide was
stealthily creeping up the sides of the _Red Eric_, and placing her
gradually on an even keel. At the same time a British man-of-war was
creeping down upon that innocent vessel with the murderous intention of
blowing her out of the water, if possible.

In order to explain this latter fact, we must remind the reader of the
boat and crew of the Portuguese slaver which was encountered by the
party of excursionists on their trip down the river. The vessel to
which that boat belonged had been for several weeks previous creeping
about off the coast, watching her opportunity to ship a cargo of slaves,
and at the same time to avoid falling into the hands of a British
cruiser which was stationed on the African coast to prevent the
villainous traffic. The Portuguese ship, which was very similar in size
and shape to the _Red Eric_, had hitherto managed to elude the cruiser,
and had succeeded in taking a number of slaves on board ere she was
discovered. The cruiser gave chase to her on the same afternoon as that
on which the _Red Eric_ grounded on the mud-bank off the mouth of the
river. Darkness, however, favoured the slaver, and when the land breeze
failed, she was lost sight of in the intricacies of the navigation at
that part of the coast.

Towards morning, while it was yet dark, the _Red Eric_ floated, and
Captain Dunning, who had paced the deck all night with a somewhat
impatient tread, called to the mate--"Now, Mr Millons, man the boats,
and let some of the hands stand-by to trim the sails to the first puff
of wind."

"Ay, ay, sir," answered the mate, as he sprang to obey.

Now it is a curious fact, that at that i