The Ghost Ship | Page 2

the North was a large schooner-rigged cargo steamer,
strongly built of iron in watertight compartments, and of nearly two
thousand horsepower, but working up, under pressure, of nearly half as
much again on a pinch, having been originally intended for the
passenger trade.
She belonged to one of the great ocean lines that run between Liverpool
and New York, and was now on her last outward trip for the year and
rapidly nearing her western goal--the Fastnet light--and, according to
our reckoning when we took the sun at noon, in latitude 42° 35 minutes
North, and longitude 50° 10 minutes West, that is, just below the banks
of Newfoundland, our course to our American port having been a little
more southerly than usual for the season. This was in consequence of
Captain Applegarth, our skipper, wishing, as I said before, to take
advantage of the varying winds of the northern ocean as much as
possible, so as to economise his steam-power and limit our
consumption of fuel; for freights "across the herring-pond," as the
Yankees call it, are at a very low ebb nowadays, and it is naturally a
serious consideration with shipowners how to make a profit out of the
carrying trade without landing themselves in the bankruptcy court. So,
they have to cut down their working expenses to the lowest point
practicable with efficiency, where "full speed" all the way is not a vital

necessity--as in the case of the mail steamers and first-class passenger
ships of enormous steam-power and corresponding speed, which, of
course, run up a heavy coal bill, for they always "carry on" all they can
to and fro across the Atlantic, accomplishing the passage now between
Queenstown and Sandy Hook, veritable greyhounds of the ocean that
they are, within the six days, all told, from land to land. Aye, and even
this "record" promises to be beaten in the near future.
Prior to our leaving Liverpool on this voyage, the very day before we
sailed, in fact, greatly to my surprise and satisfaction, as may be
imagined, I was made fourth officer, the owners having unexpectedly
promoted me from the position of "apprentice," which I had filled up to
our last run home without any thought of so speedy a "rise." Of course I
had to thank my old friend Captain Applegarth for my good fortune,
though why the skipper thus spoke up for me I'm sure I cannot say, for
I was very young to hold such a subordinate post, having only just
turned my seventeenth year, besides being boyish enough in all
conscience, and beardless, too, at that! But, be that as it may, fourth
officer I was at the time of which I write.
I recollect the evening well enough.
It was on the seventh of November, the anniversary of my birthday, a
circumstance which would alone suffice to imprint the date on my
memory were I at all disposed to forget it. But that is not very likely.
No, I can assure you.
It would be impossible for me to do that, as you will readily believe
when you come to know my story; for, on this eventful evening there
happened something which, somehow or other, thenceforth, whether
owing to what visionary folk term "Destiny," or from its arising
through some curious conjuncture of things beyond the limits of mere
chance, appeared to exercise a mysterious influence on my life,
affecting the whole tenor and course of my subsequent career.
I had better tell you, however, what occurred, and then you will be able
to judge for yourself.

CHAPTER TWO.
"SAIL HO!"
Away forward, I remember, the ship's bell under the break of the
forecastle, or "fo'c's'le," as it is pronounced in nautical fashion, was just
striking "two bells" in the first day watch.
In other words, more suited to a landsman's comprehension, it was five
o'clock in the afternoon when I came on deck from my spell of leisure
below, to relieve Mr Spokeshave, the third officer, then on duty, and
the sight I caught of the heavens, across the gangway, was so beautiful
that I paused a moment or two to look at the sunset before going up on
the bridge, where Mr Spokeshave, I had no doubt, was anxiously
awaiting me and, equally certainly, grumbling at my detaining him
from his "tea!"
This gentleman, however, was not too particular as to time in relieving
others when off watch, and I did not concern myself at all about Master
"Conky," as all of us called him aboard, on account of a very prominent,
and, so to speak, striking feature of his countenance.
Otherwise, he was an insignificant-looking little chap, as thin as
threadpaper and barely five feet high; but he was always swelling
himself out, and trying to look a