"Why, sir," replied Tom Barlow, with a hitch to his waistband, "we knowed it was him, because it was as like him as he could stare, only a good deal blacker and dirtier even than he was in his lifetime. It had just gone two bells in the middle watch, when three or four of us who was awake saw him as plainly as we do you, sir, now--creeping about for all the world like a serpent, in and out among the hammocks. It was more, just then, than any one of us wished to do, to speak to him; but, thinks I, there can't be any harm telling him to cut his stick, just civilly like; so I lifts up my head, and sings out, `Be off, you dirty son of a sea cook!' But scarcely was the words out of my mouth, than he was away like a shot up the main-hatchway, and through one of the ports, or right through the bottom of the ship, for what I knowed; for I couldn't see, you may suppose. All the others who saw him said, too, there was a strong smell of sulphur, wherever he'd been, and that he vanished away in a flame of fire; but I can't 'xactly swear to that myself." I laughed outright at the absurdity of the story, and was more convinced than ever that the men had allowed their imaginations to be worked up to a pitch which would make them believe anything. Dicky Sharpe and I talked the matter over, and agreed not to say anything about it, as were the circumstances to get to the ears of the captain, it would certainly make him very angry. I thought we should hear no more about the matter; but two days after this I found the people more busy than ever talking about Bobby Smudge's ghost. Numbers declared they had seen it. Some described it as having one shape, some another. Not a few gave it a tail, and horns, and fiery eyes. All described it as black; and several were ready to affirm on oath that it smelt strongly of sulphur and other horrible odours. At length many of the men showed a great unwillingness to go below, and to turn into their hammocks. Old Chissel had become a completely altered character. His conscience told him that he was the cause of poor Bobby's death. He grew thin and pale; his voice was no longer heard in loud dispute with his brother officer, the boatswain; and even his manner was softened towards his inferiors. The men remarked the change; and all argued that the ghost had done him some good at all events, though it certainly confirmed them in their belief of its existence. Night after night, no sooner was it dark, and the watch below turned in, than Dirty Bob's ghost was sure to appear to some one or other; till at length the gun-room officers heard of the matter, and ultimately the captain himself was informed of it.