The Collected Fiction of William Hope Hodgson: The Dream Of X & Other Fantastic Visions (50 page)

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The Ghost Pirates

The Figure Out of the Sea

H
e began without any circumlocution.

“I joined the ‘Mortzestus’ in ’Frisco. I heard, before I signed on, that there were some funny yarns floating round about her; but I was pretty nearly on the beach, and too jolly anxious to get away to worry about trifles. Besides, by all accounts, she was right enough, so far as grub and treatment went. When I asked fellows to give it a name, they generally could not. All they could tell me was that she was unlucky, and made thundering long passages, and had more than a fair share of dirty weather. Also that she had twice had the sticks blown out of her, and her cargo shifted. Besides all these, a heap of other things that might happen to any packet, and would not be comfortable to run into. Still, they were the ordinary things, and I was willing enough to risk them, to get home. All the same, if I had been given the chance, I should have shipped in some other vessel, as a matter of preference.

“When I took my bag down, I found that they had signed on the rest of the crowd. You see, the ‘home lot’ cleared out when they got into ’Frisco; that is, all except one young fellow, a cockney, who had stuck by the ship in port. He told me afterwards, when I got to know him, that he intended to draw a payday out of her, whether anyone else did or not.

“The first night I was in her I found that it was common talk among the other fellows that there was something queer about the ship. They spoke of her as if it were an accepted fact that she was haunted; yet they all treated the matter as a joke, all, that is, except the young cockney—Williams—who, instead of laughing at their jests on the subject, seemed to take the whole matter seriously.

“This made me rather curious. I began to wonder whether there was, after all, some truth underlying the vague stories I had heard; and I took the first opportunity to ask him whether he had any reasons for believing that there was any truth in the yarns about the ship.

“At first he was inclined to be a bit offish; but presently he came ’round and told me that he did not know of any particular incident which could be called unusual in the sense in which I meant. Yet, at the same time, there were lots of little things which, if you put them together, made you think a bit. For instance, she always made such long passages and had so much dirty weather—nothing but that, and calms and head winds. Then other things happened—sails that he knew himself had been properly stowed were always blowing adrift at night. And then he said a thing that surprised me.

“ ‘There’s too many bloomin’ shadders about this ’ere packet; they gets onter yer nerves like nothin’ as ever I seen before in me nat’ral.’

“He blurted it all out in a heap, and I turned ’round and looked at him.

“ ‘Too many shadders!’ I said. ‘What on earth do you mean?’ But he refused to explain himself, or tell me anything further—just shook his head stupidly when I questioned him. He seemed to have taken a sudden, sulky fit. I felt certain that he was acting dense purposely. I believe the truth of the matter is that he was, in a way, ashamed of having let himself go like he had in speaking out his thoughts about ‘shadders.’That type of man may think things at times; but he doesn’t often put them into words. Anyhow, I saw it was no use asking any further questions, so I let the matter drop there. Yet, for several days afterward, I caught myself wondering at times what the fellow had meant by ‘shadders.’

“We left ’Frisco next day, with a fine, fair wind that seemed a bit like putting the stopper on the yarns I’d heard about the ship’s ill luck. And yet—”

He hesitated a moment, and then went on again:

“For the first couple of weeks out nothing unusual happened, and the wind still held fair. I began to feel that I had been rather lucky, after all, in the packet into which I had been shunted. Most of the other fellows gave her a good name, and there was a pretty general opinion growing among the crowd that it was all a silly yarn about her being haunted. And then, just when I was settling down to things, something happened that opened my eyes no end.

“It was in the 8-to-12 watch, and I was sitting on the steps on the starboard side leading up to the fo’cas’le head. The night was fine and there was a splendid moon. Away aft I heard the timekeeper strike four bells, and the lookout—an old fellow named Jaskett, answered him. As he let go the bell lanyard, his eye caught sight of me, where I sat, quietly smoking. He leant over the rail, and looked down at me.

“ ‘That you, Jessop?’ he asked.

“ ‘I believe it is,’ I replied.

“ ‘We’d ’ave our gran’mothers an’ all the rest of our petticoated relash’ns comin’ to sea, if ’twere always like this,’ he remarked, reflectively—indicating, with a sweep of his pipe and hand, the calmness of the sea and sky.

“I saw no reason for denying that, and he continued:

“ ‘If this ole packet is ’aunted, as some on ’em seems to think, well, all as I can say is, let me ’ave the luck to tumble across another of the same sort. Good grub, an’ duff fer Sundays, an’ a decent crowd of ’em aft, an’ everythin’ comfertable like, so as yer can feel yer knows where yer are. As fer ’er bein’ ’aunted, that’s all nonsense. I’ve comed ’cross lots of ’em before as was said to be ’aunted, an’ so some on ’em was; but ’twasn’t with ghosteses. One packet I was in they was that bad yer couldn’t sleep a wink in yer watch below, until yer’d ’ad every stitch out yer bunk an’ ’ad a reg’lar ’unt. Sometimes—’

“At that moment the relief, one of the ordinary seamen, went up the other ladder onto the fo’cas’le head, and the old chap turned to ask him ‘why the ’ell’ he’d not relieved him a bit smarter. The ordinary made some reply, but what it was I did not catch, for, abruptly, away aft, my rather sleepy gaze had lighted on something altogether extraordinary and outrageous. It was nothing less than the form of a man stepping inboard over the starboard rail, a little abaft the main rigging. I stood up and caught at the handrail and stared.

“Behind me, someone spoke. It was the lookout, who had come down off the fo’cas’le head, on his way aft to report the name of his relief to the Second Mate.

“ ‘What is it, mate?’ he asked, curiously, seeing my intent attitude.

“The thing—whatever it was—had disappeared into the shadows on the lee side of the deck.

“ ‘Nothing!’ I replied, shortly, for I was too bewildered then at what my eyes had just shown me to say any more. I wanted to think.

“The old shellback glanced at me; but only muttered something, and went on his way aft.

“For a minute, perhaps, I stood there, watching; but could see nothing. Then I walked slowly aft, as far as the after end of the deckhouse. From there I could see most of the main deck; but nothing showed, except, of course, the moving shadows of the ropes and spars and sails, as they swung to and fro in the moonlight.

“The old chap who had just come off the lookout had returned forrard again, and I was alone on that part of the deck. And then, all at once, as I stood peering into the shadows to leeward, I remembered what Williams had said about there being too many ‘shadders.’ I had been puzzled to understand his real meaning then. I had no difficulty now. There were too many shadows. Yet, shadows or no shadows, I realized that, for my own peace of mind, I must settle, once and for all, whether the thing I had seemed to see stepping aboard out of the ocean had been a reality or simply a phantom, as you might say, of my imagination. My reason said it was nothing more than imagination, a rapid dream—I must have dozed; but something deeper than reason told me that this was not so. I put it to the test, and went straight in amongst the shadows. There was nothing.

“I grew bolder. My common sense told me I must have fancied it all. I walked over to the mainmast, and looked behind the pinrail that partly surrounded it, and down into the shadow of the pumps; but here again was nothing. Then I went in under the break of the poop. It was darker under there than out on deck. I looked up both sides of the deck and saw that they were bare of anything such as I looked for. The assurance was comforting. I glanced at the poop ladders, and remembered that nothing could have gone up there without the Second Mate or the timekeeper seeing it. Then I leant my back up against the bulkhead, and thought the whole matter over, rapidly sucking at my pipe and keeping my glance about the deck. I concluded my think, and said ‘No!’ out loud. Then something occurred to me, and I said ‘Unless—’ and went over to the starboard bulwarks, and looked over and down into the sea; but there was nothing but sea; and so I turned and made my way forrard. My common sense had triumphed, and I was convinced that my imagination had been playing tricks with me.

“I reached the door on the port side leading into the fo’cas’le, and was about to enter, when something made me look behind. As I did so I had a shaker. Away aft, a dim, shadowy form stood in the wake of a swaying belt of moonlight that swept the deck a bit abaft the mainmast.

“It was the same figure that I had just been attributing to my fancy. I will admit that I felt more than startled; I was quite a bit frightened. I was convinced now that it was no mere imaginary thing. It was a human figure. And yet, with the flicker of the moonlight and the shadows chasing over it, I was unable to say more than that. Then, as I stood there, irresolute and funky, I got the thought that someone was acting the goat, though for what reason or purpose I never stopped to consider. I was glad of any suggestion that my common sense assured me was not impossible; and, for the moment, I felt quite relieved. That side to the question had not presented itself to me before. I began to pluck up courage. I accused myself of getting fanciful; otherwise I should have tumbled to it earlier. And then, funnily enough, in spite of all my reasoning, I was still afraid of going after to discover who that was standing on the lee side of the main deck. Yet I felt that, if I shirked it, I was only fit to be dumped overboard; and so I went, though not with any great speed, as you can imagine.

“I had gone half the distance, and still the figure remained there, motionless and silent—the moonlight and the shadows playing over it with each roll of the ship. I think I tried to be surprised. If it were one of the fellows playing the fool, he must have heard me coming, and why didn’t he scoot while he had the chance? And where could he have hidden himself before? All these things I asked myself, in a rush, with a queer mixture of doubt and belief; and, you know, in the meantime, I was drawing nearer. I had passed the house, and was not twelve paces distant when, abruptly, the silent figure made three quick strides to the port rail and climbed over it into the sea.

“I rushed to the side and stared over; but nothing met my eyes except the shadow of the ship, sweeping over the moon-lit sea.

“How long I stared down blankly into the water it would be impossible to say; certainly for a good minute. I felt blank—just horribly blank. It was such a beastly confirmation of the unnaturalness of the thing I had concluded to be a sort of brain fancy. I seemed, for that little time, deprived, you know, of the power of coherent thought. I suppose I was dazed—mentally stunned, in a way.

“As I have said, a minute or so must have gone, while I had been staring into the dark of the water under the ship’s side. Then I came suddenly to my ordinary self. The Second Mate was singing out: ‘Lee fore brace.’

“I went to the braces, like a chap in a dream.

The Search for Stubbins

“And then, on the fourth night, something fresh happened, for about two bells that night the fore t’gallant sheet carried away, and Williams and I went up to fix it. We did this, and I went down to give a hand with the haulyards, whilst Williams stayed up to light up the gear. And then, suddenly, when the yard was nearly mastheaded, Williams started to sing out something queer, and a minute later he came down with a crash, and smashed upon the deck.

“Jove! We were shaken, and the second sent Tammy (our first-voyage ’prentice) up to take the wheel, to be out of the way. When we’d cleared up the ropes and things we went into the fo’cas’le, and had a long yarn about it; but no one, ’cept, perhaps, Stubbins, seemed to have any idea of the way to look at things. And so the conversation slacked off. He were all so moody and shaken.

“Presently I heard the second whistling for someone to relieve the wheel, and when I got aft I found he’d kicked Tammy away from the wheel, because Tammy thought he’d seen a man climbing aboard out of the sea, and had, consequently, bunked away from the wheel. I had a long talk with Tammy, over the wheel-box, after the Second Mate had gone forrard to the break, and he told me all about it, and I explained to him that I was growing pretty certain that the ship was open to be boarded by these strange shadow-men; and then the Second Mate came aft again, and we had to shut up.