“After dinner, while smoking our sheroots on the poop, the second mate, for the first time, spoke in very decided terms of the detention of the ship, dropping at the same time certain mysterious hints, which I determined that he should at once unravel. “‘But, Mr. Parker,’ said I, accordingly, in answer to one of those dubious remarks, ‘Captain Catherton keeps matters pretty close, and to my notion, he is not exactly the man to answer a straight-forward question, even if you had made up your mind to ask it.’ “‘You may swear to that, sir,’ answered he, coming near the point at once—‘that is, to his having cause to keep things close. To tell the plain truth, sir, I’ve had my doubts of him, more or less, the whole v’y’ge; especially,’ continued he, sinking his voice, ‘since we lost the mate in the way we did—and since his wife’s spirit has haunted the ship.’ “I scarce knew what to think of this, as the man spoke quite seriously, glancing warily round the poop, and dropping his voice to a whisper, which had something of genuine awe in its cadence. “‘Come, come, Mr. Parker,’ said I, ‘no ghosts, if you please. We will leave them to the old carpenter and his crony. I should like to hear, though, how you lost that boat’s crew.’ “‘Well, sir,’ he replied, doggedly, ‘as you please—but as for the spirit—’ “‘Pooh, pooh, man!—never mind that!—tell me how you came to lose the boat. We will have the spirit after supper, if you insist on it.’ “‘Why,’ said he, with a sort of sigh, dropping the ghost with evident reluctance, ‘I had to cut my line in that same squall, for it was in running down to pick up my boat that the ship lost sight of the mate.