"We've no proof, you know," I said. He shook his head, doubtfully. "I shall always funk going aloft, now." "Nonsense!" I told him. "It may only have been an accident." "Don't!" he said. "You know you don't think so, really." I answered nothing, just then; for I knew very well that he was right. We were silent for a couple of moments. Then he spoke again: "Is the ship haunted?" For an instant I hesitated. "No," I said, at length. "I don't think she is. I mean, not in that way." "What way, then?" "Well, I've formed a bit of a theory, that seems wise one minute, and cracked the next. Of course, it's as likely to be all wrong; but it's the only thing that seems to me to fit in with all the beastly things we've had lately." "Go on!" he said, with an impatient, nervous movement. "Well, I've an idea that it's nothing _in_ the ship that's likely to hurt us. I scarcely know how to put it; but, if I'm right in what I think, it's the ship herself that's the cause of everything." "What do you mean?" he asked, in a puzzled voice. "Do you mean that the ship _is_ haunted, after all?" "No!" I answered. "I've just told you I didn't. Wait until I've finished what I was going to say." "All right!" he said. "About that thing you saw tonight," I went on. "You say it came over the lee rail, up on to the poop?" "Yes," he answered. "Well, the thing I saw, _came up out of the sea, and went back into the sea_." "Jove!" he said; and then: "Yes, go on!" "My idea is, that this ship is open to be boarded by those things," I explained. "What they are, of course I don't know. They look like men-- in lots of ways. But--well, the Lord knows what's in the sea. Though we don't want to go imagining silly things, of course. And then, again, you know, it seems fat-headed, calling anything silly. That's how I keep going, in a sort of blessed circle. I don't know a bit whether they're flesh and blood, or whether they're what we should call ghosts or spirits." "They can't be flesh and blood," Tammy interrupted. "Where would they live? Besides, that first one I saw, I thought I could see through it. And this last one--the Second Mate would have seen it. And they would drown--" "Not necessarily," I said. "Oh, but I'm sure they're not," he insisted. "It's impossible--" "So are ghosts--when you're feeling sensible," I answered. "But I'm not saying they _are_ flesh and blood; though, at the same time, I'm not going to say straight out they're ghosts--not yet, at any rate." "Where do they come from?" he asked, stupidly enough. "Out of the sea," I told him. "You saw for yourself!" "Then why don't other vessels have them coming aboard?" he said. "How do you account for that?" "In a way--though sometimes it seems cracky--I think I can, according to my idea," I answered. "How?" he inquired again.