“What is it?” I asked in an undertone, after a couple of moments’ further ineffectual peering.  “I can’t see anything.”

“H’sh!” he muttered, hoarsely, without looking in my direction.  Then, all at once, with a quick little gasp, he sprang across the wheel-box, and stood beside me, trembling.  His gaze appeared to follow the movements of something I could not see.

I must say that I was startled.  His movement had shown such terror; and the way he stared to leeward made me think he saw something uncanny.

“What the deuce is up with you?” I asked, sharply.  And then I remembered the Second Mate.  I glanced forrard to where he lounged.  His back was still towards us, and he had not seen Tammy.  Then I turned to the boy.

“For goodness sake, get to looard before the Second sees you!” I said.  “If you want to say anything, say it across the wheel-box.  You’ve been dreaming.”

Even as I spoke, the little beggar caught at my sleeve with one hand; and, pointing across to the log-reel with the other, screamed:  “He’s coming!  He’s coming——­” At this instant, the Second Mate came running aft, singing out to know what was the matter.  Then, suddenly, crouching under the rail near the log-reel, I saw something that looked like a man; but so hazy and unreal, that I could scarcely say I saw anything.  Yet, like a flash, my thoughts ripped back to the silent figure I had seen in the flicker of the moonlight, a week earlier.

The Second Mate reached me, and I pointed, dumbly; and yet, as I did so, it was with the knowledge that he would not be able to see what I saw.  (Queer, wasn’t it?) And then, almost in a breath, I lost sight of the thing, and became aware that Tammy was hugging my knees.

The Second continued to stare at the log-reel for a brief instant; then he turned to me, with a sneer.

“Been asleep, the pair of you, I suppose!” Then, without waiting for my denial, he told Tammy to go to hell out of it and stop his noise, or he’d boot him off the poop.

After that, he walked forward to the break of the poop, and lit his pipe, again—­walking forward and aft every few minutes, and eyeing me, at times, I thought, with a strange, half-doubtful, half-puzzled look.

Later, as soon as I was relieved, I hurried down to the ’Prentice’s berth.  I was anxious to speak to Tammy.  There were a dozen questions that worried me, and I was in doubt what I ought to do.  I found him crouched on a sea-chest, his knees up to his chin, and his gaze fixed on the doorway, with a frightened stare.  I put my head into the berth, and he gave a gasp; then he saw who it was, and his face relaxed something of its strained expression.

He said:  “Come in,” in a low voice, which he tried to steady; and I stepped over the wash-board, and sat down on a chest, facing him.

“What was it?” he asked; putting his feet down on to the deck, and leaning forward.  “For God’s sake, tell me what it was!”