hung close to us.

"I hope so," said I, "though I don't know where it's to come from."

As I spoke, the light vanished. I ran my eye over the yards,
expecting its reappearance; but it returned no more, and the sails
rose pale and phantom-like to the stars. I was in an odd humour,
and this was an apparition not to brighten one up. Of course one
knows all about these maritime corpse-candles, and can explain
their nature; but nevertheless the sudden kindling of them upon
the darkness of the night, in the dead hush of the calm or amid the
fury of the shrieking hurricane, produces feelings which there is
nothing in science to resolve. I could have laughed to find myself
sending a half-awed look aloft, as if I expected to see some visionary
hand at work upon another one these graveyard illuminations-with
a stealing out of some large, sad face to the melancholy glow; but
I returned to the side very pensive for all that, and there stood
watching the fiery outline of a shark subtly sneaking close to the
surface (insomuch that the wake of its fin slipped away in little
coils of green flame) toward the ship's bows.

Half an hour later the dark curl of a light air of wind shattered
the starlight in the sea, and our canvas fell asleep. I called to
the watch to trim sail, and in a few moments the decks were busy
with the figures of men pulling and hauling and surging out at the
ropes in sulky, slumberous growlings. The captain arrived.

"Little worth having in this, I fear," said he. "But make the most
of it--make the most of it. Get the foretopmast stunsail run up.
If she creeps but a league, it is a league to the good."