"I saw it do that!" I burst out.

"Oh, did you? Well, _what was it?_"

Something kept me silent, although a dozen explanations flew to my
lips.

After a pause, Halyard said: "You saw the harbor-master, that's what
you saw!"

I looked at him without a word.

"Don't mistake me," he said, pettishly; "I don't think that the
harbor-master is a spirit or a sprite or a hobgoblin, or any sort of
damned rot. Neither do I believe it to be an optical illusion."

"What do you think it is?" I asked.

"I think it's a man--I think it's a branch of the human race--that's
what I think. Let me tell you something: the deepest spot in the
Atlantic Ocean is a trifle over five miles deep--and I suppose you
know that this place lies only about a quarter of a mile off this
headland. The British exploring vessel, _Gull_, Captain Marotte,
discovered and sounded it, I believe. Anyway, it's there, and it's my
belief that the profound depths are inhabited by the remnants of the
last race of amphibious human beings!"

This was childish; I did not bother to reply.