"Very well," said Captain Johns; "you won't. But, mind, I can draw my
own conclusions from that."

"Draw what you like; but be careful what you say, sir. You don't terrify
me. _You_ aren't a ghost."

"One word. Has it any connection with what you said to me on that last
night, when we had a talk together on spiritualism?"

Bunter looked weary and puzzled.

"What did I say?"

"You told me that I couldn't know what a man like you was capable of."

"Yes, yes. Enough!"

"Very good. I am fixed, then," remarked Captain Johns. "All I say is
that I am jolly glad not to be you, though I would have given almost
anything for the privilege of personal communication with the world of
spirits. Yes, sir, but not in that way."

Poor Bunter moaned pitifully.

"It has made me feel twenty years older."

Captain Johns retired quietly. He was delighted to observe this
overbearing ruffian humbled to the dust by the moralizing agency of the
spirits. The whole occurrence was a source of pride and gratification;
and he began to feel a sort of regard for his chief mate.