"I carn't understand 'ow it is ther Second Mate didn't 'appen to spot
it," Quoin said, in a puzzled voice. It seemed to me that Plummer nudged him to be quiet. It looked as if
Plummer shared the Second Mate's opinion, and the idea made me savage. But Stubbins's next remark drew my attention. "I don't hunderstand it," he said, again; speaking with deliberation. "All ther same, ther Second should have savvied enough not to have slung
you hoff ther look-hout." He nodded his head, slowly, keeping his gaze fixed on my face. "How do you mean?" I asked, puzzled; yet with a vague sense that the man
understood more, perhaps, than I had hitherto thought. "I mean what's ther Second so blessed cocksure about?" He took a draw at his pipe, removed it, and leant forward somewhat, over
his bunk-board. "Didn't he say nothin' ter you, after you came hoff ther look-hout?" he
asked. "Yes," I replied; "he spotted me going aft. He told me I was getting to
imagining things too much. He said I'd better come forrard and get a
sleep." "An' what did you say?" "Nothing. I came forrard." "Why didn't you bloomin' well harsk him if he weren't doin' ther
imaginin' trick when he sent us chasin' hup ther main, hafter that
bogyman of his?" "I never thought of it," I told him. "Well, yer ought ter have." He paused, and sat up in his bunk, and asked for a match. As I passed him my box, Quoin looked up from his game. "It might 'ave been a stowaway, yer know. Yer carn't say as it's ever
been proved as it wasn't." Stubbins passed the box back to me, and went on without noticing Quoin's
remark:

"Told you to go an' have a snooze, did he? I don't hunderstand what he's
bluffin' at." "How do you mean, bluffing?" I asked. He nodded his head, sagely. "It's my hidea he knows you saw that light, just as bloomin' well as I
do." Plummer looked up from his game, at this speech; but said nothing. "Then _you_ don't doubt that I really saw it?" I asked, with a certain
surprise. "Not me," he remarked, with assurance. "You hain't likely ter make that
kind of mistake three times runnin'." "No," I said. "I _know_ I saw the light, right enough; but"--I hesitated
a moment--"it's blessed queer." "It _is_ blessed queer!" he agreed. "It's damned queer! An' there's a
lot of other damn queer things happenin' aboard this packet lately." He was silent for a few seconds. Then he spoke suddenly:

"It's not nat'ral, I'm damned sure of that much." He took a couple of draws at his pipe, and in the momentary silence, I
caught Jaskett's voice, above us. He was hailing the poop. "Red light on the starboard quarter, Sir," I heard him sing out. "There you are," I said with a jerk of my head. "That's about where that
packet I spotted, ought to be by now. She couldn't cross our bows, so
she up helm, and let us pass, and now she's hauled up again and gone
under our stern." I got up from the chest, and went to the door, the other three
following. As we stepped out on deck, I heard the Second Mate shouting
out, away aft, to know the whereabouts of the light. "By Jove! Stubbins," I said. "I believe the blessed thing's gone again." We ran to the starboard side, in a body, and looked over; but there was
no sign of a light in the darkness astern. "I carn't say as _I_ see any light," said Quoin. Plummer said nothing. I looked up at the fo'cas'le head. There, I could faintly distinguish
the outlines of Jaskett. He was standing by the starboard rail, with his
hands up, shading his eyes, evidently staring towards the place where he
had last seen the light. "Where's she got to, Jaskett?" I called out. "I can't say, mate," he answered. "It's the most 'ellishly funny thing
I've ever comed across. She were there as plain as me 'att one minnit,
an' ther next she were gone--clean gone." I turned to Plummer. "What do you think about it, _now_?" I asked him. "Well," he said. "I'll admit I thought at first 'twere somethin' an'
nothin'. I thought yer was mistaken; but it seems yer did see
somethin'." Away aft, we heard the sound of steps, along the deck. "Ther Second's comin' forrard for a hexplanation, Jaskett," Stubbins
sung out. "You'd better go down an' change yer breeks." The Second Mate passed us, and went up the starboard ladder. "What's up now, Jaskett?" he said quickly. "Where is this light? Neither
the 'prentice nor I can see it!" "Ther damn thing's clean gone, Sir," Jaskett replied. "Gone!" the Second Mate said. "Gone! What do you mean?" "She were there one minnit, Sir, as plain as me 'att, an' ther next,
she'd gone." "That's a damn silly yarn to tell me!" the Second replied. "You don't
expect me to believe it, do you?" "It's Gospel trewth any'ow, Sir," Jaskett answered. "An' Jessop seen it
just ther same." He seemed to have added that last part as an afterthought. Evidently,
the old beggar had changed his opinion as to my need for sleep. "You're an old fool, Jaskett," the Second said, sharply. "And that idiot
Jessop has been putting things into your silly old head." He paused, an instant. Then he continued:

"What the devil's the matter with you all, that you've taken to this
sort of game? You know very well that you saw no light! I sent Jessop
off the look-out, and then you must go and start the same game." "We 'aven't--" Jaskett started to say; but the Second silenced him. "Stow it!" he said, and turned and went down the ladder, passing us
quickly, without a word. "Doesn't look to _me_, Stubbins," I said, "as though the Second did
believe we've seen the light." "I hain't so sure," he answered. "He's a puzzler." The rest of the watch passed away quietly; and at eight bells I made
haste to turn-in, for I was tremendously tired. When we were called again for the four to eight watch on deck, I learnt
that one of the men in the Mate's watch had seen a light, soon after we
had gone below, and had reported it, only for it to disappear
immediately. This, I found, had happened twice, and the Mate had got so
wild (being under the impression that the man was playing the fool) that
he had nearly came to blows with him--finally ordering him off the
look-out, and sending another man up in his place. If this last man saw
the light, he took good care not to let the Mate know; so that the
matter had ended there. And then, on the following night, before we had ceased to talk about the
matter of the vanishing lights, something else occurred that temporarily
drove from my mind all memory of the mist, and the extraordinary, blind
atmosphere it had seemed to usher. IX


_The Man Who Cried for Help_


It was, as I have said, on the following night that something further
happened. And it brought home pretty vividly to me, if not to any of the
others, the sense of a personal danger aboard. We had gone below for the eight to twelve watch, and my last impression
of the weather at eight o'clock, was that the wind was freshening. There
had been a great bank of cloud rising astern, which had looked as if it
were going to breeze up still more.