His care to subdue his voice made it sound monotonous. He rested a
hand on the end of the skylight to steady himself with, and all
that time did not stir a limb, so far as I could see. "Nice little
tale for a quiet tea-party," he concluded in the same tone.

One of my hands, too, rested on the end of the skylight; neither
did I stir a limb, so far as I knew. We stood less than a foot
from each other. It occurred to me that if old "Bless my soul--you
don't say so" were to put his head up the companion and catch sight
of us, he would think he was seeing double, or imagine himself come
upon a scene of weird witchcraft; the strange captain having a
quiet confabulation by the wheel with his own grey ghost. I became
very much concerned to prevent anything of the sort. I heard the
other's soothing undertone.

"My father's a parson in Norfolk," it said. Evidently he had
forgotten he had told me this important fact before. Truly a nice
little tale.

"You had better slip down into my stateroom now," I said, moving
off stealthily. My double followed my movements; our bare feet
made no sound; I let him in, closed the door with care, and, after
giving a call to the second mate, returned on deck for my relief.

"Not much sign of any wind yet," I remarked when he approached.

"No, sir. Not much," he assented, sleepily, in his hoarse voice,
with just enough deference, no more, and barely suppressing a yawn.

"Well, that's all you have to look out for. You have got your