"We'd 'ave our gran'mothers an' all the rest of our petticoated relash'ns comin' to sea, if 'twere always like this," he remarked, reflectively--indicating, with a sweep of his pipe and hand, the calmness of the sea and sky.
"For goodness sake, get to looard before the Second sees you!" I said. "If you want to say anything, say it across the wheel-box. You've been dreaming."
"You're a young idiot!" I said. "And I should advise you not to go gassing about like this, round the decks. Take my tip, and turn-in and get a sleep. You're talking dotty. Tomorrow you'll perhaps feel what an unholy ass you've made of yourself."
I grabbed at the idea, instantly. Perhaps--And then, in a moment, I dismissed it. I remembered how that first thing had stepped over the rail _into the sea. That_ matter could not be explained in such a manner. With regard to this, I was curious and anxious. I had seen nothing this time. What could the Second Mate have seen? I wondered. Were we chasing fancies, or was there really someone--something real, among the shadows above us? My thoughts returned to that thing, Tammy and I had seen near the log-reel. I remembered how incapable the Second Mate had been of seeing anything then. I remembered how natural it had seemed that he should not be able to see. I caught the word "stowaway" again. After all, that might explain away _this_ affair. It would----
"Well, he's not, Sir," I answered. "Jock went right up to the royal yard."
Tammy said "i, i, Sir," and skipped away, up on to the poop.
"What I say, of course," I said. "There _are_ too many shadows."