She was woke up suddenly by a noise that froze the marrer in ’er bones—­ the most ’art-rending groan she ’ad ever heard in ’er life; and, raising her ’ead, she saw Silas Winch standing at the foot of the bed.  He ’ad done his face and hands over with wot is called loominous paint, his cap was pushed at the back of his ’ead, and wet wisps of ’air was hanging over his eyes.  For a moment Mrs. Burtenshaw’s ’art stood still and then Silas let off another groan that put her on edge all over.  It was a groan that seemed to come from nothing a’most until it spread into a roar that made the room tremble and rattled the jug in the wash-stand basin.  It shook everything in the room but Bill, and he went on sleeping like an infant.  Silas did two more groans, and then ‘e leaned over the foot o’ the bed, and stared at Bill, as though ’e couldn’t believe his eyesight.

[Illustration:  “She saw Silas Winch standing at the foot of the bed.”]

“Try a squeaky one,” ses Mrs. Burtenshaw.

Silas tried five squeaky ones, and then he ‘ad a fit o’ coughing that would ha’ woke the dead, as they say, but it didn’t wake Bill.

“Now some more deep ones,” ses Mrs. Burtenshaw, in a w’isper.

Silas licked his lips—­forgetting the paint—­and tried the deep ones agin.

“Now mix ’em a bit,” ses Mrs. Burtenshaw.

Silas stared at her.  “Look ’ere,” he ses, very short, “do you think I’m a fog-horn, or wot?”

He stood there sulky for a moment, and then ’e invented a noise that nothing living could miss hearing; even Bill couldn’t.  He moved in ’is sleep, and arter Silas ’ad done it twice more he turned and spoke to ’is missis about it.  “D’ye hear?” he ses; “stop it.  Stop it at once.”

Mrs. Burtenshaw pretended to be asleep, and Bill was just going to turn over agin when Silas let off another groan.  It was on’y a little one this time, but Bill sat up as though he ’ad been shot, and he no sooner caught sight of Silas standing there than ’e gave a dreadful ’owl and, rolling over, wropped ’imself up in all the bed-clothes ’e could lay his ’ands on.  Then Mrs. Burtenshaw gave a ’owl and tried to get some of ’em back; but Bill, thinking it was the ghost, only held on tighter than ever.

“Bill!” ses Silas Winch, in an awful voice.

Bill gave a kick, and tried to bore a hole through the bed.

“Bill,” ses Silas agin, “why don’t you answer me?  I’ve come all the way from the bottom of the Pacific Ocean to see you, and this is all I get for it.  Haven’t you got anything to say to me?”

“Good-by,” ses Bill, in a voice all smothered with the bed-clothes.

Silas Winch groaned agin, and Bill, as the shock ’ad made a’most sober, trembled all over.

“The moment I died,” ses Silas, “I thought of my promise towards you.  ‘Bill’s expecting me,’ I ses, and, instead of staying in comfort at the bottom of the sea, I kicked off the body of the cabin-boy wot was clinging round my leg, and ’ere I am.”