night air, - a prolonged, hideous cry, something like the braying
of an ass. The moon had risen, and we could see the islands in and
beyond the lagoon quite plainly, but there was no object visible to
account for such a cry. A strong gust of wind was blowing from the
point whence the sound came, but this died away while we were
gazing out to sea.

"What can it be?" said Peterkin, in a low whisper, while we all
involuntarily crept closer to each other.

"Do you know," said Jack, "I have heard that mysterious sound twice
before, but never so loud as to-night. Indeed it was so faint that
I thought I must have merely fancied it, so, as I did not wish to
alarm you, I said nothing about it."

We listened for a long time for the sound again, but as it did not
come, we returned to the bower and resumed our work.

"Very strange," said Peterkin, quite gravely. "Do you believe in
ghosts, Ralph?"

"No," I answered, "I do not. Nevertheless I must confess that
strange, unaccountable sounds, such as we have just heard, make me
feel a little uneasy."

"What say you to it, Jack?"

"I neither believe in ghosts nor feel uneasy," he replied. "I
never saw a ghost myself, and I never met with any one who had; and
I have generally found that strange and unaccountable things have