The men looked at each other somewhat blank; they didn't understand the
meaning at all--far from it; and the idea of any one's wanting to take
the stranger's place on the water casks was so outrageously ludicrous,
that at any other time they would have considered it a devilish good
joke and have never ceased laughing at it. He paused some minutes, and then one of them said,--

"It isn't that we envy him his berth, captain, 'cause nobody else could
live there for a moment. Any one amongst us that had been there would
have been washed overboard a thousand times over." "So they would," said the captain. "Well, sir, he's more than us." "Very likely; but how can I help that?" "We think he's the main cause of all this racket in the heavens--the
storm and hurricane; and that, in short, if he remains much longer we
shall all sink." "I am sorry for it. I don't think we are in any danger, and had the
strange being any power to prevent it, he would assuredly do so, lest he
got drowned." "But we think if he were thrown overboard all would be well." "Indeed!" "Yes, captain, you may depend upon it he's the cause of all the
mischief. Throw him overboard and that's all we want." "I shall not throw him overboard, even if I could do such a thing; and I
am by no means sure of anything of the kind." "We do not ask it, sir." "What do you desire?" "Leave to throw him overboard--it is to save our own lives." "I can't let you do any such thing; he's in nobody's way." "But he's always a whistling. Only hark now, and in such a hurricane as
this, it is dreadful to think of it. What else can we do, sir?--he's not
human." At this moment, the stranger's whistling came clear upon their ears;
there was the same wild, unearthly notes as before, but the cadences
were stronger, and there was a supernatural clearness in all the tones. "There now," said another, "he's kicking the water cask with his heels." "Confound the binnacle!" said the captain; "it sounds like short peals
of thunder. Go and talk to him, lads." "And if that won't do, sir, may we--"

"Don't ask me any questions. I don't think a score of the best men that
were ever born could move him." "I don't mind trying," said one. Upon this the whole of the men moved to the spot where the water casks
were standing and the stranger lay. There was he, whistling like fury, and, at the same time, beating his
heels to the tune against the empty casks. We came up to him, and he
took no notice of us at all, but kept on in the same way. "Hilloa!" shouted one. "Hilloa!" shouted another. No notice, however, was taken of us, and one of our number, a big,
herculean fellow, an Irishman, seized him by the leg, either to make him
get up, or, as we thought, to give him a lift over our heads into the
sea. However, he had scarcely got his fingers round the calf of the leg, when
the stranger pinched his leg so tight against the water cask, that he
could not move, and was as effectually pinned as if he had been nailed
there. The stranger, after he had finished a bar of the music, rose
gradually to a sitting posture, and without the aid of his hands, and
looking the unlucky fellow in the face, he said,--

"Well, what do you want?" "My hand," said the fellow. "Take it then," he said. He did take it, and we saw that there was blood on it. The stranger stretched out his left hand, and taking him by the breech,
he lifted him, without any effort, upon the water-cask beside him. We all stared at this, and couldn't help it; and we were quite convinced
we could not throw him overboard, but he would probably have no
difficulty in throwing us overboard. "Well, what do you want?" he again exclaimed to us all. We looked at one another, and had scarce courage to speak; at length I
said,--

"We wish you to leave off whistling." "Leave off whistling!" he said. "And why should I do anything of the
kind?" "Because it brings the wind." "Ha! ha! why, that's the very reason I am whistling, to bring the wind." "But we don't want so much." "Pho! pho! you don't know what's good for you--it's a beautiful breeze,
and not a bit too stiff." "It's a hurricane." "Nonsense." "But it is." "Now you see how I'll prove you are wrong in a minute. You see my hair,
don't you?" he said, after he took off his cap. "Very well, look now." He got up on the water-cask, and stood bolt upright; and running his
fingers through his hair, made it all stand straight on end. "Confound the binnacle!" said the captain, "if ever I saw the like." "There," said the stranger, triumphantly, "don't tell me there's any
wind to signify; don't you see, it doesn't even move one of my grey
hairs; and if it blew as hard as you say, I am certain it would move a
hair." "Confound the binnacle!" muttered the captain as he walked away. "D--n
the cabouse, if he ain't older than I am--he's too many for me and
everybody else." "Are you satisfied?" What could we say?--we turned away and left the place, and stood at our
quarters--there was no help for it--we were impelled to grin and abide
by it. [Illustration]

As soon as we had left the place he put his cap on again and sat down on
the water-casks, and then took leave of his prisoner, whom he set free,
and there lay at full length on his back, with his legs hanging down. Once more he began to whistle most furiously, and beat time with his
feet. For full three weeks did he continue at this game night and day, without
any interruption, save such as he required to consume enough coffee
royal, junk, and biscuit, as would have served three hearty men. Well, about that time, one night the whistling ceased and he began to
sing--oh! it was singing--such a voice! Gog and Magog in Guildhall,
London, when they spoke were nothing to him--it was awful; but the wind
calmed down to a fresh and stiff breeze. He continued at this game for
three whole days and nights, and on the fourth it ceased, and when we
went to take his coffee royal to him he was gone. We hunted about everywhere, but he was entirely gone, and in three weeks
after we safely cast anchor, having performed our voyage in a good month
under the usual time; and had it been an old vessel she would have
leaked and stinted like a tub from the straining; however, we were glad
enough to get in, and were curiously inquisitive as to what was put in
our vessel to come back with, for as the captain said,--

"Confound the binnacle! I'll have no more contraband articles if I can
help it." CHAPTER XXVI. THE MEETING BY MOONLIGHT IN THE PARK.--THE TURRET WINDOW IN THE
HALL.--THE LETTERS. [Illustration]

The old admiral showed such a strong disposition to take offence at
Charles if he should presume, for a moment, to doubt the truth of the
narrative that was thus communicated to him, that the latter would not
anger him by so doing, but confined his observations upon it to saying
that he considered it was very wonderful, and very extraordinary, and so
on, which very well satisfied the old man.