The Upper Berth | Page 8

not ashamed of it in the least: I was very badly frightened.
Still I doubted my senses, and pulled myself together. It was absurd, I
thought. The Welsh rare-bit I had eaten had disagreed with me. I had
been in a nightmare. I made my way back to my state-room, and
entered it with an effort. The whole place smelled of stagnant sea-water,
as it had when I had waked on the previous evening. It required my
utmost strength to go in and grope among my things for a box of wax
lights. As I lighted a railway reading lantern which I always carry in
case I want to read after the lamps are out, I perceived that the porthole
was again open, and a sort of creeping horror began to take possession
of me which I never felt before, nor wish to feel again. But I got a light
and proceeded to examine the upper berth, expecting to find it drenched
with sea-water.
But I was disappointed. The bed had been slept in, and the smell of the
sea was strong; but the bedding was as dry as a bone. I fancied that
Robert had not had the courage to make the bed after the accident of
the previous night--it had all been a hideous dream. I drew the curtains
back as far as I could and examined the place very carefully. It was
perfectly dry. But the porthole was open again. With a sort of dull
bewilderment of horror, I closed it and screwed it down, and thrusting
my heavy stick through the brass loop, wrenched it with all my might,
till the thick metal began to bend under the pressure. Then I hooked my
reading lantern into the red velvet at the head of the couch, and sat
down to recover my senses if I could. I sat there all night, unable to

think of rest--hardly able to think at all. But the porthole remained
closed, and I did not believe it would now open again without the
application of a considerable force.
The morning dawned at last, and I dressed myself slowly, thinking over
all that had happened in the night. It was a beautiful day and I went on
deck, glad to get out in the early, pure sunshine, and to smell the breeze
from the blue water, so different from the noisome, stagnant odour
from my state-room. Instinctively I turned aft, towards the surgeon's
cabin. There he stood, with a pipe in his mouth, taking his morning
airing precisely as on the preceding day.
"Good-morning," said he, quietly, but looking at me with evident
curiosity.
"Doctor, you were quite right," said I. "There is something wrong about
that place."
"I thought you would change your mind," he answered, rather
triumphantly. "You have had a bad night, eh? Shall I make you a
pick-me-up? I have a capital recipe."
"No, thanks," I cried. "But I would like to tell you what happened."
I then tried to explain as clearly as possible precisely what had occurred,
not omitting to state that I had been scared as I had never been scared in
my whole life before. I dwelt particularly on the phenomenon of the
porthole, which was a fact to which I could testify, even if the rest had
been an illusion. I had closed it twice in the night, and the second time I
had actually bent the brass in wrenching it with my stick. I believe I
insisted a good deal on this point.
"You seem to think I am likely to doubt the story," said the doctor,
smiling at the detailed account of the state of the porthole. "I do not
doubt it in the least. I renew my invitation to you. Bring your traps here,
and take half my cabin."
"Come and take half of mine for one night," I said. "Help me to get at

the bottom of this thing."
"You will get to the bottom of something else if you try," answered the
doctor.
"What?" I asked.
"The bottom of the sea. I am going to leave the ship. It is not canny."
"Then you will not help me to find out----"
"Not I," said the doctor, quickly. "It is my business to keep my wits
about me--not to go fiddling about with ghosts and things."
"Do you really believe it is a ghost?" I inquired, rather contemptuously.
But as I spoke I remembered very well the horrible sensation of the
supernatural which had got possession of me during the night. The
doctor turned sharply on me----
"Have you any reasonable explanation of these things to offer?" he
asked. "No; you have not. Well, you say you will find an explanation. I
say that you won't, sir, simply because there is not