He dont believe in em at all, was Pollys prompt answer. No more do I, for father knows everything, and hes always right.
Hes a lucky man to have you, Polly, and theres a lucky boy knockin about the world somewheres lookin out for you. A good daughter, its said, inwariably makes a good wife; which you dont understand just now, but youll come to in course of time. Howsever, as I wos observin, Ive been of the same opinion as your father till two nights ago, when I heard a ghost right under the deck, it seemed to me, blow my hammock, where theres nothin but ships stores and rats.
Heard a ghost! exclaimed Polly, with opening eyes.
Ay, an seed im too, said Burr. Night before yesterday I heerd im as plain as I hear myself. He wos groanin, an its quite impossible that a tar-barrel, or a cask, or a rat, could groan. The only thing that puzzled me wos that he seemed to snore; more than that he sneezed once or twice. Now, I never heard it said that a ghost could sleep or catch cold. Did you, Polly?
Polly laughed and said that she never did, and asked eagerly what the ghost was like.
It was wery much like an ornary man of small size, said the seaman, but it were too dark to make out its face. I know the figure of every soul in the ship by this time, an I could swear before a maginstrate, or a bench of bishops, that the ghost is neither one of the crew nor a passenger.
Why didnt you speak to it? asked Polly.
So I did speak to it, but it wouldnt answer; then I made a grab at it, but it was as active as a kitten, dodged round the mainmast, flew fored on inwisible wings, and went slap down the fore-scuttle, head first, with a crash that would have broke the neck of anything but a ghost.
At this interesting point the conversation was interrupted by Edwin Jack, whose turn it was to relieve the man at the wheel. He nodded to Polly as he came up, took his post, and received the ships course from Burr, who thrust his hands into his pockets, and left the quarter-deck.
Edwin was by this time a considerably changed man, although but a few days at sea. The rough blue trousers, guernsey, and pea-jacket, took as naturally to his strong limbs as if he had been born and bred a sailor; and already some huge blisters, a few scars, and not a little tar, had rendered his hands creditable.
Steering at the time was a mere matter of form, as a dead calm prevailed. Our philosopher therefore amused himself and Polly with commentaries on the ghost-subject which Burr had raised.
Late that night, when the stars were shining in a cloudless sky, and winking at their reflections in the glassy ocean, the ghost appeared to Edwin Jack. It was on this wise:
Jack, being one of the watch on deck, went to the port bulwarks near the foremast shrouds, leant over, and, gazing down into the reflected sky, thought sadly of past, present, and future. Tiring at last of his meditations, he went towards a man who appeared to be skulking under the shadow of the long-boat and remarked that it was a fine night, but the man made no reply.
A most enjoyable night, shipmate, he said, going closer.
Im glad you think so, said the ghost, its anything but enjoyable to me. The state of the weather hasnt much effect, either one way or another, on a fellow who is half-dead with hunger, half-choked with a cold caught among the rats and stores, and half-killed by a tumble down the fore-scuttle, or whatever may be the name of that vile ladder that leads to the regions below.
Surely, exclaimed Jack in surprise, seizing the ghost by the shoulders and looking close into its face, I have heard your voice before now, and, eh?no, I dont know you.
Yes, Philosopher Jack, you do know me, returned the ghost; Ive had the honour of playing cricket with you on the green, though youve forgotten me, and no wonder, for Ive suffered much from bad air and sea-sickness of late. My name is Walter, more familiarly Watty Wilkins.
Little Wilkins! exclaimed Jack, in surprise, well, you are changed; you dont mean to say that youve run away from home?
Thats just what Ive done, said the poor lad in a tone of despondency; but youve no occasion to shake your head at me so solemnly, for, to all appearance, you have run away too.
No, Wilkins, you are wrong, I have walked away, being my own master, and I have done it openly, though I admit somewhat hastily
Jack was interrupted at that moment by Ben Trench laying a hand on his shoulder.
It strikes me, he said, in some surprise, that I recognise the voice of a townsmanMister Jack, if I mistake not?
No, sir, replied the philosopher, not Mister, only Edwin Jack, seaman aboard the Lively Poll. You are right, however, in styling me townsman. Allow me to introduce you to another townsman, Mr Watty Wilkins, stowaway on board of the same vessel!
Trench had not, in the darkness, recognised his friend. He now seized him by both shoulders, and peering into his face, said
O Watty, Watty, have you really done it? I had thought better of you.
I said I would do it, and Ive done it, returned the little youth somewhat testily; and now I want to know what is to be done next.
Report yourself and take the consequences, said Jack, promptly.
This advice being seconded by Ben Trench, Watty Wilkins went aft to the captain, who had just come on deck, touched his cap, and confessed himself.
For some moments the captain spoke not a word, but looked at the young culprit with a portentous frown. Then, uttering something like a deep bass growl, he ordered the lad to follow him into his private cabin. When there, Captain Samson seated himself on a locker, and with a hand on each knee, glared at his prisoner so long and so fiercely from under his shaggy brows, that Watty, in spite of his recklessness, began to feel uneasy.
So, youngster, youve run away? he said at length, in deep solemnity.
Yes, sir, replied Wilkins.
And you think yourself a fine clever fellow, no doubt?
No, sir, I dont, said Watty, with much humility.
I knew your father, boy, continued the captain, assuming a softer and more serious tone, and I think he is a good man.
He is, sir, returned the boy promptly.
Ay, and he is a kind man; he has been kind to you, I think.
Watty hung his head.
He has fed you, clothed you, educated you since you was a babby; nursed you, maybe, in sickness, and prayed for you, no doubt that God would make you a good, obedient and loving son.
The boys head drooped still lower.
And for all this, continued the captain, you have repaid him by running away. Now, my lad, as you have made your bed you shall lie on it. Ill clap your nose to the grindstone, and keep it there. Steward!
A smart little man answered to the call.
Take this boy fored, and teach him to clean up. Dont spare him.
In obedience to this order the steward took little Wilkins forward and introduced him to the cook, who introduced him to the coppers and scrubbing brushes. From that day forward Master Watty became deeply versed in the dirty work and hard work of the ship, so that all the romance of a sea life was driven out of him, and its stern realities were implanted. In less than three weeks there was not a cup, saucer, or plate in the ship that Watty had not washed; not a brass that he had not polished and re-polished; not a copper that he had not scraped; not an inch of the deck that he had not swabbed. But it must not be supposed that he groaned under this labour. Although reckless, hasty, and inconsiderate, he was not mean-spirited. Making up his mind to do his best in the circumstances, he went cheerfully to his dirty work, and did it well.