days afterwards with foundered horses
and as footsore as possible, and they were so glad to get back
to Fairfield that some of them walked up the street crying like
little children. Squire said that his great-grandfather's
great-grandfather hadn't looked so dead-beat since the battle
of Naseby, and he's an educated man.

What with one thing and another, I should think it was a week before
we got straight again, and then one afternoon I met the landlord on
the green and he had a worried face. "I wish you'd come and have a
look at that ship in my field," he said to me; "it seems to me it's
leaning real hard on the turnips. I can't bear thinking what the
missus will say when she sees it."

I walked down the lane with him, and sure enough there was a
ship in the middle of his field, but such a ship as no man had
seen on the water for three hundred years, let alone in the
middle of a turnip-field. It was all painted black and covered
with carvings, and there was a great bay window in the stern
for all the world like the Squire's drawing-room. There was a
crowd of little black cannon on deck and looking out of her
port-holes, and she was anchored at each end to the hard
ground. I have seen the wonders of the world on picture-postcards,
but I have never seen anything to equal that.

"She seems very solid for a ghost-ship," I said, seeing the landlord
was bothered.

"I should say it's a betwixt and between," he answered, puzzling it
over, "but it's going to spoil a matter of fifty turnips, and missus
she'll want it moved." We went up to her and touched the side, and it
was as hard as a real ship. "Now there's folks in England would call
that very curious," he said.

Now I don't know much about ships, but I should think that that
ghost-ship weighed a solid two hundred tons, and it seemed to me
that she had come to stay, so that I felt sorry for landlord, who was
a married man. "All the horses in Fairfield won't move her out of my
turnips," he said, frowning at her.

Just then we heard a noise on her deck, and we looked up and saw that
a man had come out of her front cabin and was looking down at us very
peaceably. He was dressed in a black uniform set out with rusty gold
lace, and he had a great cutlass by his side in a brass sheath. "I'm
Captain Bartholomew Roberts," he said, in a gentleman's voice, "put
in for recruits. I seem to have brought her rather far up the
harbour."

"Harbour!" cried landlord; "why, you're