The Upper Berth | Page 7

a sovereign. It is
not possible. You may go."
"Soverin' did you say, sir? Very good, sir. Thank ye, sir. Good night, sir.
Pleasant reepose, sir, and all manner of hinchantin' dreams, sir."
Robert scuttled away, delighted at being released. Of course, I thought
he was trying to account for his negligence by a silly story, intended to
frighten me, and I disbelieved him. The consequence was that he got
his sovereign, and I spent a very peculiarly unpleasant night.
I went to bed, and five minutes after I had rolled myself up in my
blankets the inexorable Robert extinguished the light that burned
steadily behind the ground-glass pane near the door. I lay quite still in
the dark trying to go to sleep, but I soon found that impossible. It had
been some satisfaction to be angry with the steward, and the diversion
had banished that unpleasant sensation I had at first experienced when I
thought of the drowned man who had been my chum; but I was no
longer sleepy, and I lay awake for some time, occasionally glancing at
the porthole, which I could just see from where I lay, and which, in the
darkness, looked like a faintly-luminous soup-plate suspended in
blackness. I believe I must have lain there for an hour, and, as I
remember, I was just dozing into sleep when I was roused by a draught

of cold air and by distinctly feeling the spray of the sea blown upon my
face. I started to my feet, and not having allowed in the dark for the
motion of the ship, I was instantly thrown violently across the
state-room upon the couch which was placed beneath the porthole. I
recovered myself immediately, however, and climbed upon my knees.
The porthole was again wide open and fastened back!
Now these things are facts. I was wide awake when I got up, and I
should certainly have been waked by the fall had I still been dozing.
Moreover, I bruised my elbows and knees badly, and the bruises were
there on the following morning to testify to the fact, if I myself had
doubted it. The porthole was wide open and fastened back--a thing so
unaccountable that I remember very well feeling astonishment rather
than fear when I discovered it. I at once closed the plate again and
screwed down the loop nut with all my strength. It was very dark in the
state-room. I reflected that the port had certainly been opened within an
hour after Robert had at first shut it in my presence, and I determined to
watch it and see whether it would open again. Those brass fittings are
very heavy and by no means easy to move; I could not believe that the
clump had been turned by the shaking of the screw. I stood peering out
through the thick glass at the alternate white and grey streaks of the sea
that foamed beneath the ship's side. I must have remained there a
quarter of an hour.
Suddenly, as I stood, I distinctly heard something moving behind me in
one of the berths, and a moment afterwards, just as I turned
instinctively to look--though I could, of course, see nothing in the
darkness--I heard a very faint groan. I sprang across the state-room, and
tore the curtains of the upper berth aside, thrusting in my hands to
discover if there were any one there. There was some one.
I remember that the sensation as I put my hands forward was as though
I were plunging them into the air of a damp cellar, and from behind the
curtain came a gust of wind that smelled horribly of stagnant sea-water.
I laid hold of something that had the shape of a man's arm, but was
smooth, and wet, and icy cold. But suddenly, as I pulled, the creature
sprang violently forward against me, a clammy, oozy mass, as it

seemed to me, heavy and wet, yet endowed with a sort of supernatural
strength. I reeled across the state-room, and in an instant the door
opened and the thing rushed out. I had not had time to be frightened,
and quickly recovering myself, I sprang through the door and gave
chase at the top of my speed, but I was too late. Ten yards before me I
could see--I am sure I saw it--a dark shadow moving in the dimly
lighted passage, quickly as the shadow of a fast horse thrown before a
dog-cart by the lamp on a dark night. But in a moment it had
disappeared, and I found myself holding on to the polished rail that ran
along the bulkhead where the passage turned towards the companion.
My hair stood on end, and the cold perspiration rolled down my face. I
am