At ten minutes to twelve I was called， and at twelve Iwas dressed and on deck， relieving the man who had calledme. On the sealing grounds， when hove to， a watch of onlya single man is kept through the night， each man holdingthe deck for an hour. It was a dark night， though not ablack one. The gale was breaking up， and the clouds werethinning. There should have been a moon， and， thoughinvisible， in some way a dim， suffused radiance came fromit. I paced back and forth across the deck amidships. Mymind was filled with the event of the day and with thehorrible tales my shipmates had told， and yet I dare to say，here and now， that I was not afraid. I was a healthy animal，and furthermore， intellectually， I agreed with Swinburnethat dead men rise up never. The Bricklayer was dead， andthat was the end of it. He would rise up never—at least，never on the deck of the Sophie Sutherland. Even then hewas in the ocean depths miles to windward of our leewarddrift， and the likelihood was that he was already portionedout in the maws of many sharks. Still， my mind ponderedon the tales of the ghosts of dead men I had heard， and Ispeculated on the spirit world. My conclusion was that ifthe spirits of the dead still roamed the world they carriedthe goodness or the malignancy of the earth-life withthem. Therefore， granting the hypothesis （which I didn’tgrant at all）， the ghost of the Bricklayer was bound to beas hateful and malignant as he in life had been. But therewasn’t any Bricklayer’s ghost—that I insisted upon.
A few minutes， thinking thus， I paced up and down.
Then， glancing casually for’ard， along the port side， Ileaped like a startled deer and in a blind madness of terrorrushed aft along the poop， heading for the cabin. Gonewas all my arrogance of youth and my intellectual calm. Ihad seen a ghost. There， in the dim light， where we hadflung the dead man overboard， I had seen a faint andwavering form. Six-feet in length it was， slender， and ofsubstance so attenuated that I had distinctly seen throughit the tracery of the fore-rigging.
As for me， I was as panic-stricken as a frightened horse.
I， as I， had ceased to exist. Through me were vibrating thefibre-instincts of ten thousand generations of superstitiousforebears who had been afraid of the dark and the thingsof the dark. I was not I. I was， in truth， those ten thousandforebears. I was the race， the whole human race， in itssuperstitious infancy. Not until part way down the cabincompanionwaydid my identity return to me. I checked
my flight and clung to the steep ladder， suffocating，trembling， and dizzy. Never， before nor since， have I hadsuch a shock. I clung to the ladder and considered. I couldnot doubt my senses. That I had seen something therewas no discussion. But what was it？ Either a ghost or ajoke. There could be nothing else. If a ghost， the questionwas： would it appear again？ If it did not， and I aroused theship’s officers， I would make myself the laughing stock ofall on board. And by the same token， if it were a joke， myposition would be still more ridiculous. If I were to retainmy hard-won place of equality， it would never do to arouseany one until I ascertained the nature of the thing.
I am a brave man. I dare to say so； for in fear andtrembling I crept up the companion-way and went backto the spot from which I had first seen the thing. It hadvanished. My bravery was qualified， however. Though Icould see nothing， I was afraid to go for’ard to the spotwhere I had seen the thing. I resumed my pacing upand down， and though I cast many an anxious glancetoward the dread spot， nothing manifested itself. As myequanimity returned to me， I concluded that the wholeaffair had been a trick of the imagination and that I hadgot what I deserved for allowing my mind to dwell on suchmatters.
Once more my glances for’ard were casual， and notanxious； and then， suddenly， I was a madman， rushingwildly aft. I had seen the thing again， the long， waveringattenuated substance through which could be seen thefore-rigging. This time I had reached only the break ofthe poop when I checked myself. Again I reasoned overthe situation， and it was pride that counselled strongest.