There was no reply. Then one of the sailors of Help's squad, and a second, and a third leaped from the underbrush, sprang by the sentinel regardless of his challenge, and ran into the midst of the camp. They were breathless, pale, trembling, terrified. "Well," cried Blythe, "this is something new, truly! Full sized Brownies, and Natties at that, running like a frightened rabbit from a Pixie! Why, comrades, what has possessed you? Speak, can't you?" They could not speak. The poor fellows were so overcome that they had to sit down. Water was given them, and they revived. "Come, now," said True firmly, "this has gone far enough. What is the cause of this?" One of the three could just utter the single word--"Pipe!" The very name set the sailors shivering again with terror. "This is most unaccountable!" exclaimed Blythe. "What do you mean, fellow? What about Pipe? Do you mean our poor boatswain who was lost this morning?" "Yes--yes!" gasped the sailor. "We--have--seen--him! Oh, oh!" He uttered a cry as he spoke, jumped to his feet, threw up his arms, pointed toward the picket line and fell flat upon the grass. All eyes turned in the direction of the poor fellow's hand. There stood Pipe the Boatswain! A chorus of mingled groans, shrieks and cries arose from the company. The sailors scattered into the ferns and bushes. The officers stood their ground, but there was not one among them who would not have run had he dared. The figure slowly advanced. The eyes were sunken, the face pale, the hair hung damp and matted around the face and brow. The clothes were ragged and clung closely to the body. The eyes had, or seemed to have, an unnatural brightness. They were fixed steadily upon the officers. Step by step, nearer and nearer the figure came. But it spoke no word. There could be no mistake about it. It was Pipe the drowned boatswain! Now Sergeant True, like most sensible persons, knew that if there were such things as ghosts they must be harmless creatures. He had often said that; and declared that he would like to meet a ghost. But if the truth were known, he would rather have been excused just then. However, he spoke at last. "Speak! whatever you be! Spirit, ghost, or living flesh,--tell us what you are, and why you are come here!" The figure stopped. A strange, familiar light played upon the pale face, and glimmered around the corner of the eyes. Then into the death-like silence the image spoke with a husky voice: "Well, shipmates, this is a rather tough greeting on one's return from a long voyage! What's i' the wind, that you all run from your old comrade, and stand staring at me as though I were a ghost? Hey, my boy, don't you know Sophie's daddy?" [Illustration: FIG. 105.--"A Colony of Youngling Orbweavers as Snugly Tented Under a Jack-in-the-Pulpit."] "Pipe, Pipe! it is Pipe himself!" exclaimed True, and he rushed forward and took the dear old sailor in his arms.