the day she first sailed; and yet The Poppy Pearl lay a moldering, shapeless thing on the reefs, her back broken, her masts and rigging converted into huts. Nearer and nearer came the phantom ship. It was the most tremendous moment of Guy's life. He was the first man who had ever pierced the film of reality and peered into the spirit world. He fell forward, babbling like an idiot.
When he opened his eyes, he lay in a snug, comfortable berth. His head still throbbed, but rationality had returned to him. He surveyed his surroundings. If it were The Poppy Pearl she must have been completely rebuilt. She was certainly greatly improved. He had not slept in such a comfortable bunk for ages. The cool freshness of the pillow was like a tonic to him. The fire in his brain had subsided. He had been drawn back into the tide of life again. He wondered whither the ship was bound. His bunk was spotlessly clean. That proved beyond a doubt that he was not on The Poppy Pearl.
He was interrupted in his musings by the entrance of a man in uniform, evidently the captain. He had a broad, good-natured red face and appeared to be English. Guy looked up into his face.
"Where is Jolly Cauldron?" he asked whimsically.
"Who's he?"
"My Nemesis. Don't you know that every man has a Nemesis constantly on his trail? Even children are told that the hobgoblin will get them if they don't watch out. The hobgoblin's name is Jolly Cauldron. He is my Nemesis, my shadow. Scientists tell us that a man can not escape from his shadow. For months my shadow and I lived on an island reasonably contented; although he was an ill-bred shadow, always in front of me, never behind. A shadow that is refined and cultured always steps out of the way when you want to go anywhere, but mine always blocked me. He made me go where he wanted. We started a new civilization on the island and with reasonable success. But it was a place of shadows and dreams. It was no place for me. So my shadow picked me up and threw me into a canoe, which was carried by the current into the golden mists of morning. Now I'm a man without a shadow. I'm as badly off as a ghost. When I return to New York it will be very embarrassing."
The captain chuckled. "Glad to see you're a bit better," he said. "When we picked you up your head was so hot we could have fried an egg on it. You've had a touch of sun."
"Only a touch?" grinned Guy. "Why, man, I've been living in it!"
The captain smiled. "As long as we'll perhaps be together for a while," he said, "I think I'll introduce myself. My name is Binns. This schooner is The Georgiana. I own her. I am a trader in pearls when I am not exploring the little-known islands of Polynesia. Just now I am bound for Papeete, the Paris of the South Seas, where dwell the happiest, wickedest people in the world. From there I shall jump a long distance to Singapore, which is the Highway of the World. Want to come along?"
"Yes," was the slow reply. "If I go with you to Singapore I am sure to get away from the South Seas. Maybe my nerves are unstrung, but. I can't help but think that the coral beaches of Polynesia are as deadly as any malady."
When the veil of night commenced to settle over the waters, Guy stood in the stern of the ship and watched the bloodburning sun slip down below the far horizon. The dream was ended. There were no more ghosts. He was going home.
