He wrote a letter to Hermione, and went ashore to mail it. The gale was harder than ever, and he wondered how the _Shark_ was getting along. But he felt no anxiety, and decided that she had undoubtedly put into Chatham. He went to bed early that night, in a mood of deep depression. About midnight he was awakened by a pressure on his chest and, as his eyes flashed open, for he was a light sleeper, he saw a dark figure leaning over him and felt the sudden disagreeable trickle of water on his face and neck. Springing up, he thrust at the dark shape, and that so violently as to send the Finn, for it was he, staggering back against the table. "What do you mean by dripping water over me like that, you fool!" cried Applebo, thinking that the Finn had roused him to say that they were dragging, or something of the sort. A little standing-light was burning, and Applebo saw by its feeble flame that the face of his Finn was working spasmodically and his manner was wild. "Master," he cried, "I have had a vision!" "What sort of vision?" "I saw a white vessel, dismasted and sinking. Her people were clinging about the decks and the sea was washing over them." Applebo leaned forward, gripping the edge of his bunk. "What was this vessel?" he cried. The Finn shook his wet, shaggy head, and again the drops sprinkled Applebo's face and neck. "I cannot say, master. She was buried in the smother and the vision was not a clear one. It was not like when I saw my father clinging to the bottom of his fishing boat in the Finskii Zalif." "What happened then?" "He was never heard of again." Applebo moved uneasily. He had his full belief in much of the phenomena not to be explained by known physical laws and, therefore, dubbed "superstition." That night he had gone to sleep in a most unusual state of depression, and once or twice he had awakened to listen to the gale humming through the rigging. His first thought had been of the _Shark_, and he had been inquiet, even while his reason told him that to be so was absurd. Wherefore, awakened by the Finn with this lugubrious tale of a vision of shipwreck, his first thought was naturally of the _Shark_. "What do you think this vessel was, and where?" he demanded, impatiently. "I could not say, master." "Then why do you come here and waken me and spatter me with cold water to tell me about it?" Applebo demanded, angrily. "I thought that I ought to do so." "But why?" "God does not give us these visions for nothing, master." "Then what do you want me to do? Go to sea and wait for an angel to take the wheel?" The Finn did not answer. He knew quite well that, were the _Daffodil_ at sea, she would be hove to under a storm trysail or riding to a sea-anchor. "Well...?" snapped Applebo. "What do you advise?" The man pushed back his dank hair and shook his head. Applebo lost his patience. "Any fool might dream of shipwreck on a night like this," he said. "Now clear out and let me sleep."