“Go on!” he said, with an impatient, nervous movement.

“Well, I’ve an idea that it’s nothing in the ship that’s likely to hurt us.  I scarcely know how to put it; but, if I’m right in what I think, it’s the ship herself that’s the cause of everything.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, in a puzzled voice.  “Do you mean that the ship is haunted, after all?”

“No!” I answered.  “I’ve just told you I didn’t.  Wait until I’ve finished what I was going to say.”

“All right!” he said.

“About that thing you saw tonight,” I went on.  “You say it came over the lee rail, up on to the poop?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“Well, the thing I saw, came up out of the sea, and went back into the sea.”

“Jove!” he said; and then:  “Yes, go on!”

“My idea is, that this ship is open to be boarded by those things,” I explained.  “What they are, of course I don’t know.  They look like men—­ in lots of ways.  But—­well, the Lord knows what’s in the sea.  Though we don’t want to go imagining silly things, of course.  And then, again, you know, it seems fat-headed, calling anything silly.  That’s how I keep going, in a sort of blessed circle.  I don’t know a bit whether they’re flesh and blood, or whether they’re what we should call ghosts or spirits.”

“They can’t be flesh and blood,” Tammy interrupted.  “Where would they live?  Besides, that first one I saw, I thought I could see through it.  And this last one—­the Second Mate would have seen it.  And they would drown—­”

“Not necessarily,” I said.

“Oh, but I’m sure they’re not,” he insisted.  “It’s impossible—­”

“So are ghosts—­when you’re feeling sensible,” I answered.  “But I’m not saying they are flesh and blood; though, at the same time, I’m not going to say straight out they’re ghosts—­not yet, at any rate.”

“Where do they come from?” he asked, stupidly enough.

“Out of the sea,” I told him.  “You saw for yourself!”

“Then why don’t other vessels have them coming aboard?” he said.  “How do you account for that?”

“In a way—­though sometimes it seems cracky—­I think I can, according to my idea,” I answered.

“How?” he inquired again.

“Why, I believe that this ship is open, as I’ve told you—­exposed, unprotected, or whatever you like to call it.  I should say it’s reasonable to think that all the things of the material world are barred, as it were, from the immaterial; but that in some cases the barrier may be broken down.  That’s what may have happened to this ship.  And if it has, she may be naked to the attacks of beings belonging to some other state of existence.”

“What’s made her like that?” he asked, in a really awed sort of tone.

“The Lord knows!” I answered.  “Perhaps something to do with magnetic stresses; but you’d not understand, and I don’t, really.  And, I suppose, inside of me, I don’t believe it’s anything of the kind, for a minute.  I’m not built that way.  And yet I don’t know!  Perhaps, there may have been some rotten thing done aboard of her.  Or, again, it’s a heap more likely to be something quite outside of anything I know.”