Part 10 (2/2)

This was the origin of the report; but, some days after, at least half a dozen seamen declared they had seen the self-same spectre gliding about the deck soon after midnight; and among them the boatswain, as brave a fellow as ever brandished a rope's-end, declared that, upon waking suddenly one night, he saw the ghost sated on his locker, either imitating the action of a person ating voraciously, or making a series of such horribly ugly grimaces as would have done honour to Vanity Fair itself.

The whole affair was considered a good joke by the skipper and cabin-pa.s.sengers; but those in the steerage and the s.h.i.+p's crew placed implicit confidence in the cook's narrative, corroborated and supported as it was by the sailors and the boatswain.

For my part, I had no faith in any worse sperrits than those than that come out of a bottle, or, maybe, a hogshead, and I lost no chance of trotting out the friends of the ghost.

But my turn had to come--and come it did, with a vingeance.

One night, boy-like, I had been braggin' mightily loud about my courage.

Ould Sam offered to bet his three days' grog against mine I daren't slape in the caboose he had deserted since he saw the sperrit that same night.

The wager was made, and I turned in, thinking what a laugh I should have against the ould darky when I handed him back his complement of rum.

I'll do the ould nagur the justice to say, whin I accepted the wager, he offered to let me off; and, when he found I was determined to stick to it, he warned me, with a sigh that sounded like a groan, I had much better not; but anyway, happen what might, he hoped I would hould him harmless, and forgive him for my misfortune, if any should overtake me.

Wid a smile, bedad! I promised to do so, and, when the time came, turned into the bunk, and was soon fast aslape.

How long this lasted, I don't know; but I was suddenly awoke by feeling a cowld, clammy hand pa.s.sing over my face, and whin I opened my pay-pers, judge of my dread whin I saw the lank spectre I had been making a joke of standing by my side. Bedad! if Saint Patrick's Cathedral was stuck in my throat, I couldn't have felt more nearly choked. The crature, whatever it was, seemed as tall as the manemast, and as thin as a rasher of wind.

Every hair on my head sprang up, and my eyes seemed starting out of their sockets to meet those of the ghost, which were as big as saucers, and were fixed on mine with a look that seemed to go through and through them, and come out at the back of my head.

I tried to cry out, but I couldn't; but if my tongue couldn't chatter, my teeth could. If the big skeleton's bones had been put in an empty cask, and well shuck up by a couple of strong min, they couldn't have made a bigger noise than my jaws did.

I tried my hardest to remimber and reha.r.s.e a prayer; but sorrow the taste of one would come into my head. Shure, everything dacent was frightened clane out of it. The only good thing I could call to mind was what my mother taught me to say before males. I thought that was better than nothing, so I whispered out, while I was s.h.i.+vering with the fear that was upon me, ”For what I am going to recave, may the Lord make me truly thankful!”

Whin I had done, the ghost's jaws moved, and, in a voice so hoa.r.s.e and hollow, that it might have come from the bottom of a churchyard vault, half-moaned, half-groaned, ”It's grace you're saying, you imperint young blaggard!”

”It is,” says I, trimbling all over. ”That is, if it's not displasing to your honour's lords.h.i.+p.”

”That depinds,” says he, ”upon what you are going to give me to ate after it.”

”Ate!” says I. ”Why, thin, be good to us! can you ate?”

”Thry me,” says he, ”and you'll see whether I can or not; and make haste, for my time's short! I must go down agin almost immadiately, and it isn't the bit or sup I've had for near onto five days; and by rason of that, although I was a strong man once, it's nearly gone I am!”

”Gone where?” I asked.

”To my grave,” says he.

”Bad cess to them, whoever they were, that ought to have done it, and didn't! Haven't they buried you yet?” I inquired.

”What would they bury me for?” says he.

”It's customary with corpses where I come from,” I answered.

”I come from the same place,” says he. ”They are bad enough there, in all conscience--more particularly, by the same token, the middlemen, t.i.the-proctors, and excis.e.m.e.n; but they didn't bury live min in my time,” says he.

”But they did dead ones,” says I.

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