istian ain't afeard on; but, as for huntin'
for ghostesses in a churchyard of a dark night, not for me!"

"Aye, nor me," put in another. "I shouldn't like old Sammy to come back
and haunt the galley, as I've heard tell me. By jingo! I wouldn't like
to go into it now that it's dark, arter the way the poor beggar got shot
an' drownded--leastways, not without a light, or a lantern, or somethin'
or t'other; for, they sez of folks that come by any onnateral sort o'
death, that their sperrits can't rest quiet, and that then they goes
back to where they was murdered, and you ken see 'em wanderin' around
twixt midnight an' mornin', though they wanishes agen at the first
streak of daylight."

"I've heerd tell the same," chimed in Hiram Bangs, in a sepulchral
voice, that made my heart go down to my toes; "but Sam, he usest to say,
sez he, ez how none o' them sperrits could never touch he, cos he hed a
charm agen 'em 'cause of his father bein' jest in the ring, an' one of
the same sorter cusses--his `fadder' he called him, poor old darkey!
Sam told me now, only last night ez never was, how he'd of'en in Jamaiky
talked with ghostesses, thet would come an' tote round his plantation!
He sed, sez he, ez how he'd got a spell to call 'em by whenever he
liked; thet's what he told me, by thunder!"

"Aye, bo," said Tom Bullover; "and, before poor Sam went aft this very
evening, I heard him tell this younker, Charlie Hills, how thet he
weren't afraid of that brute of a bullying skipper, and if he came by
any harm he'd haunt him--didn't he, Charlie?"

"Ye-es," I replied, trembling, feeling horribly frightened now with all
their queer talk, coming after what I had gone through before; "but, I
didn't hear him say anything of haunting the ship. I'm awfully sorry
for him, Tom; but I hope he won't come back again, as Hiram Bangs says."

"He will, ye bet yer bottom dollar on thet, Cholly, if he ain't made
comfable down below in Davy Jones' locker, whar the poor old cuss air
now," said the American sailor in his deep voice, increasing my
superstitious fears by the very way in which he spoke. "Guess I
wouldn't mind shakin' fins with the nigger agen if he'd come aboard in
daylight, but I'm durned if I'd like to see him hyar 'fore mornin'! I'd
feel kinder skeart if I did, b'y, I reckon."

I had no time to reply; for, the captain's voice hailing us from the
poop at the moment made us all jump--I, for one, believing that it was
Sam Jedfoot a