proper place, so as to prevent the possibility of any of the furniture taking to execute the very unpleasant nautical hornpipes which I had witnessed in the second cabin, and which had been the cause of a very considerable amount of diminution in the skin that ought to have covered my ankles. I did not, however, waste much time in contemplation, but undressed, inserted myself within the snow-white sheets, and, in spite of the roaring of the tempest, and the trampling of the sailors overhead, was soon sound asleep. And then I dreamt that I was haunted by a huge pipe, which persisted in following me all over the world. I fled to the interior of Africa, there was the pipe; I hurried off to Spitzbergen, there was the pipe. At last, in disgust, I returned to England, to my old lodgings, and the pipe came and took up its abode with me, and smoked all day long, and in the smoke I seemed to see all manner of strange things; first, my creditors—a fearful sight—each man with a writ in his hand as big as himself. Then, floating lightly on the smoke, came my uncle, with his pockets buttoned very tightly, and my creditors immediately made a rush towards him, and up they all went to the ceiling, and I saw them no more. Then, out of the pipe, there came a whisky bottle, and inside it (not at all injured by being soaked in spirits) were my three cabin companions, who tapped upon the glass, and nodded at me in a threatening manner, as much as to say, if you want anything for yourself, just pull out the cork, and we will step out and give it you. And then the tobacco seemed to grow more strong and pungent, and the smoke got up my nose, and I gave a great sneeze, and awoke.
“I hope, sir, you have had a comfortable nap.”
I started up and looked across the cabin to the sofa, whence the voice proceeded. There, stretched out at his ease, lay a little fat man, with a long clay pipe in his mouth, from which a perfect column of smoke went up into the air. He had relighted the candle, and fixed it on the table in front of him, so that I could see him very well. He was rather ugly, with a pimply nose, as if given to drinking, badly made clothes, and an altogether mouldy appearance, as if he had been kept for some time in a damp place.
“Pray, sir,” said I, “might I ask you what the deuce you want in this cabin?”
The little man took the pipe from his mouth, allowed a dense volume of smoke to escape, and then gently replied:
“I might ask you the same question in equally strong terms, if it was the practice in my part of the universe to be so rude.”
“It’s that rascally steward who has done this,” exclaimed I, in a rage. “First he takes my money, which I pay for a quiet night’s rest, and then he turns in a horrid, tobacco-smoking wretch, to torment my life out; but I won’t stand it, so I should recommend you to make yourself scarce, or else you’ll soon find yourself in the wrong box.”
“Oh, no, I shan’t,” said he, stretching himself out at his full length, “you see, the fact of the matter is, that it is you who are the intruder, and not I: this cabin happens to be mine.”
“Yours, indeed; come now, that won’t go down with me: this cabin was hired by a person who ordered it to be kept locked during the voyage, and who never came on board at all.”
“That is to say,—no one saw him come on board; but, nevertheless, I was the person who hired it, and I came on board on Tuesday evening last, at a quarter past twelve, just as you were passing the Start.”
“Why, you confounded old liar, no boat ever came near us after the pilot left; and he had been gone hours before that.”
“Very likely—very likely: but I never said I came in a boat.”
“Oh, I suppose you swam, then?”
“No, I didn’t swim either.”
“Then, sir, if you neither came in a boat nor swam, pray may I ask you how you did get on board?”
“Well, if you want to know, I walked.”
“Oh, you walked, did you? Now, do you think I am drunk, or mad, which? Did ever anybody hear of a living being walking about on the British Channel?”
“Perhaps nobody ever did hear of a living being doing it, but you see, sir, I don’t happen to be a living being.”
“Then what in the name of goodness are you?”
“I am a ghost.”
“A ghost?”
“Yes, a ghost.”
With that the little man re-lighted his pipe, which had gone out during the foregoing conversation, and set to work again to smoke like a chimney. This was too much for me.
“Confound you,” cried I, “do you think you are going to humbug me with any of your cock-and-bull stories? Out you go at once, or I’ll make you.”
“All right,” says he, “make away,” and with that he puffs a whiff of smoke right across the room into my face. Well, this made me pretty wild, you may guess; so up I jumped, took one stride to the sofa, and seized the little man, that is to say, attempted to seize the little man, by his nose, for, to my utter astonishment, instead of holding anything, my finger and thumb went through it like air. Utterly perplexed, I grasped at his neck with the same result, my hands met with nothing to resist them in their passage, and yet there he lay grinning from ear to ear, and smoking away as calmly as ever. I staggered back to my bunk in amazement.
“Well now, Mr. Campbell, I hope you are satisfied that what I told you is correct. And so, if you’ll just tuck yourself up again, I’ll tell you what brings me on board this ship, for I am sure you must be anxious to hear my story.”
“Not a bit of it,” said I. “Don’t let me put you to any unnecessary trouble; I haven’t the slightest curiosity in my composition.”
You see I was awfully sleepy, and it was quite clear to me, by the way, the old fellow was settling himself down and clearing his throat that he meant to talk for the next hour at the least, which wasn’t at all to my fancy.
“Well,” says he, “if you are not curious, you ought to be; so here goes, and mind you pay attention, or else I shall have to waken you up as