“Why, how’s this?” said the stranger.  “Are your senses playing bo-peep with the ghost of some pigeon-livered coast captain, eh?  Come, take another pull at the keg, to clear your head-lights, and tell us a bit of your ditty.”

The Fisher took another draught, and proceeded—­

“About five-and-twenty years ago, a stranger came to this hut—­may the curse of God annihilate him!—­”

“Amen to that,” said the young man.

“He brought with him a boy and a girl, a purse of gold, and ——­ the arch fiend’s tongue, to tempt me!  Well, it was to take these children out to sea—­upset the boat—­and lose them!”—­

“And you did so!” interrupted the stranger.

“I tried—­but listen.  On a fine evening, I took them out:  the sun sunk rapidly, and I knew by the freshening of the breeze, there would be a storm.  I was not mistaken.  It came on even faster than I wished.  The children were alarmed—­the boy, in particular, grew suspicious; he insisted that I had an object in going out so far at sun-set.  This irritated me,—­and I rose to smite him, when the fair girl interposed her fragile form between us.  She screamed for mercy, and clung to my arm with the desperation of despair. I could not shake her off!  The boy had the spirit of a man; he seized a piece of spar, and struck me on the temples.  ‘How, you villain!’ said he, ‘your life or mine!’ At that moment the boat upset, and we were all adrift.  The boy I never saw again—­a tremendous sea broke between us—­but the wretched girl clung to me like hate!  Damnation!—­her dying scream is ringing in my ears like madness!  I struck her on the forehead, and she sank—­all but her hand, one little, white hand would not sink!  I threw myself on my back, and struck at it with both my feet—­and then I thought it sunk for ever.  I made the shore with difficulty, for I was stunned and senseless, and the ocean heaved as if it would have washed away the mortal world—­and the lightnings blazed as if all hell had come to light the scene of warfare!  I have never since been on the sea at midnight, but that hand has followed or preceded me; I have never ——.”  Here he sank down from his seat, and rolled himself in agony upon the floor.

“Poor wretch!” muttered the stranger, “what hinders now my long-sought vengeance?  Even with my foot—­but thou shalt share my murdered sister’s grave!”

“A shot is fired—­look out for the light!” said the young man.

The Fisher went to the door; but suddenly started back, clasping his hands before his face.

“Fire and brimstone! there it is again!” he cried.

“What?” said his companion, looking cooly round him.