. The morning had been clear and fine, but by four o'clock it
began to look like a fog, and the damp came up out of the sea and
settled on everything. Jack said he'd go down to his cottage and
have a last look, for the wedding was to be at five o'clock, or
soon after, and he wanted to light the lights, so as to have
things look cheerful.

"I will just take a last look," he said again, as we reached the
house. We went in, and he offered me another cigar, and I lit it
and sat down in the parlour. I could hear him moving about, first
in the kitchen and then upstairs, and then I heard him in the
kitchen again; and then before I knew anything I heard somebody
moving upstairs again. I knew he couldn't have got up those
stairs as quick as that. He came into the parlour, and he took a
cigar himself, and while he was lighting it I heard those steps
again overhead. His hand shook, and he dropped the match.

"Have you got in somebody to help?" I asked.

"No," Jack answered sharply, and struck another match.

"There's somebody upstairs, Jack," I said. "Don't you hear
footsteps?"

"It's the wind, captain," Jack answered; but I could see he was
trembling.

"That isn't any wind, Jack," I said; "it's still and foggy. I'm
sure there's somebody upstairs."

"If you are so sure of it, you'd better go and see for yourself,
captain," Jack answered, almost angrily.

He was angry because he was frightened. I left him before the
fireplace, and went upstairs. There was no power on earth that
could make me believe I hadn't heard a man's footsteps overhead.
I knew there was somebody there. But there wasn't. I went into
the bedroom, and it was all quiet, and the evening light was
streaming in, reddish through the foggy air; and I went out on
the landing and looked in the little back room that was meant for
a servant girl or a child. And as I came back again I saw that
the door of the other room was wide open, though I knew Jack had
locked it. He had said the lock was no good. I looked in. It was
a room as big as the bedroom, but almost dark, for it had
shutters, and they were closed. There was a musty smell, as of
old gear, and I could make out that the floor was littered with
sea chests, and that there were oilskins and stuff piled on the
bed. But I still believed that there was somebody upstairs, and I
went in and struck a match and looked round. I could see the four
walls and the shabby old paper, an iron bed and a cracked
looking-g