But not until the last hour, when the sails were set and the anchor was weighed, did Britomarte and Justin take a last leave of Captain Yetsom and his officers, and amid many mutual good wishes leave the deck of the _Xyphias_ for the yawl boat that was to take them to the _Sea Scourge_. When all was ready for sailing, the two vessels fired their signal guns and stood out to sea, the _Xyphias_ shaping her course to the northeast, and the _Sea Scourge_ to the northwest. Britomarte, Justin and Judith stood in the stern of the _Sea Scourge_, leaning over the taffrail, and watching the _Xyphias_ as long as she continued in sight. On board the _Xyphias_ the doctor and the chaplain stood in a similar position watching them. At intervals Captain Yetsom appeared with the other two, and waved his hat to his friends on the _Sea Scourge_, and was answered by the waving handkerchiefs of our party. And this was kept up long after they failed to distinguish each other’s faces, and until the ships themselves were out of each other’s sight. One evening, about the fifth day from that on which they left the Cape, Lieutenant Ethel, Justin, Britomarte and a young midshipman were seated around the cabin table engaged in a rubber of whist, when they were all startled by piercing shrieks, followed immediately by the form of the girl, who came pitching, tumbling and rolling down the companion ladder, and fell upon the cabin floor. All the company around the table sprang up simultaneously. And Justin rushed to Judith and raised her up, while Britomarte eagerly inquired what the matter was. “Oh, it’s the ghost! the ghost!” gasped Judith, beside herself with terror. “What ghost, girl? Are you mad?” said Justin. “Oh, the ghost iv me swateheart, sure!” sobbed Judith, white and shaking in her panic. “Nonsense,” laughed Justin; “ghost, indeed! I’d like to see one, for once. What does a ghost look like, Judith?” “Och, a raw head and bloody bones it was! Ow-oo! Ow-ootch!” she screamed, covering up her face and falling into spasms. “Give her some brandy,” suggested the young midshipman. And Lieutenant Ethel called the steward, and had a glass of brandy brought immediately and poured down her throat. It seemed to do her good. They set her back in an armchair, and Britomarte said: “Now, Judith, tell us what alarms you so.” “Lorrd bless ye, ain’t I afther telling yez? It was the ghost, sure—the ghost iv me gay Tom, as was dhrowned in the dape say more’n two wears ago!” “The ghost of Foretop Tom! Judith, you were dreaming!”