‘“I hove the rope to you,” says Ned, “and I thought I was doing an act of duty by my fellow-creature. But now, I hear, that there’s no living blood in your veins, and that you roam the ocean, bringing bad weather on the mariners you fall in with. That may be true, or it may not. If not, say so, and say who you are. If you be a shipwrecked man, you are welcome here; but if not, men have told me that a silver bullet can wound even a ghost, and if you do not speak in time, by God, there is a rare chance now of testing the truth of the saying. Answer!” ‘And Ned cocked the great pistol and levelled at the strange passenger. The figure never moved a muscle of its wan stern face. ‘“Take the dollar and my blessing with it, then,” shouted Ned, and he drew the trigger. ‘The pistol exploded, and for a moment the cabin was so full of smoke, that they could not see what execution had been done. When the vapour cleared a little off, Foul-Weather Don was standing up, his stony eyes giving out their cold sparkle, more horribly than ever. ‘“You gave me your benison,” he screeched out, “I give you my malison; and the executors and the tokens of it will follow you night and day, until either my fate or yours be accomplished. If you do not believe me, go on deck, look over either quarter, and see if I do not speak sooth.” ‘These, mates, were the very words of Foul-Weather Don; for I have got all the conversations which relate to the matter by heart, as they were told to me. And so Ned and the rest of them being terribly startled, tumbled up on deck, one tripping up the other in their hurry; and the first thing they did was to stare into the sea, where the phantom had told them to look, when sure enough they saw the fins of two great blue sharks, awful monsters in size, keeping way steadily with the ship; and just as Ned came on deck, they gave a sort of frisky plunge in the water, as much as to say, “There _you_ are—very good; and here _we_ are.”