Always the same result. We had only made eleven hundred miles, including the three hundred and ten between Fastenet and Liverpool, about a third part of our voyage. During the remainder of the day officers, sailors, and passengers continued to rest in accordance with established custom. Not a piano sounded in the silent saloons; the chess-men did not leave their box, or the cards their case; the billiard-room was deserted. I had an opportunity this day to introduce Dean Pitferge to Captain Corsican. My original very much amused the Captain by telling him the stories whispered about the “Great Eastern.” He attempted to prove to him that it was a bewitched ship, to which fatal misfortune must happen. The yarn of the melted engineer greatly pleased the Captain, who, being a Scotchman, was a lover of the marvellous, but he could not repress an incredulous smile. [Illustration: “I SEE” SAID DR. PITFERGE.] “I see,” said Dr. Pitferge, “the Captain has not much faith in my stories.” “Much! that is saying a great deal,” replied Corsican. “Will you believe me, Captain, if I affirm that this ship is haunted at night?” asked the Doctor, in a serious tone. “Haunted!” cried the Captain; “what next? Ghosts? and you believe in them?” “I believe,” replied Pitferge, “I believe what people who can be depended on have told me. Now, I know some of the officers on watch, and the sailors also, are quite unanimous on this point, that during the darkness of the night a shadow, a vague form, walks the ship. How it comes there they do not know, neither do they know how it disappears.” “By St. Dunstan!” exclaimed Captain Corsican, “we will watch it well together.” “To-night?” asked the Doctor. “To-night, if you like; and you, sir,” added the Captain, turning to me, “will you keep us company?” “No,” said I; “I do not wish to trouble the solitude of this phantom; besides, I would rather think that our Doctor is joking.” “I am not joking,” replied the obstinate Pitferge. “Come, Doctor,” said I. “Do you really believe in the dead coming back to the decks of ships?” “I believe in the dead who come to life again,” replied the Doctor, “and this is the more astonishing as I am a physician.” “A physician!” cried the Captain, drawing back as if the word had made him uneasy. “Don’t be alarmed, Captain,” said the Doctor, smiling, good-humouredly; “I don’t practise while travelling.” CHAPTER XV. The next day, the 1st of April, the aspect of the sea was truly spring-like; it was as green as the meadows beneath the sun’s rays. This April sunrise on the Atlantic was superb; the waves spread themselves out voluptuously, while porpoises gambolled in the ship’s milky track.