ing electrician, who demanded what right he had to raise his steam-whistle in that fashion.
"But I say, young Wright," he added in a lower tone, leading our hero aside, "what's this rumour I hear about a ghost in the steward's cabin?"
"Oh! it is nothing to speak of," replied Robin, with a laugh. "The lad they call Stumps got a fright—that's all."
"But that 's enough. Let us hear about it."
"Well, I suppose you know," said Robin, "that there's a ghost in the Great Eastern."
"No, I don't know it from personal experience, but I have heard a report to that effect."
"Well, I was down in Jim Slagg's berth, having a chat with him about the nature of electric currents—for he has a very inquiring mind,—and somehow we diverged to ghosts, and began to talk of the ghost of the Great Eastern.
"'I don't believe in the Great Eastern ghost—no, nor in ghosts of any kind,' said Stumps, who was sitting near us eating a bit of cheese.
"'But I believe in 'em,' said the boy Jeff, who was seated on the other side of the table, and looked at us so earnestly that we could scarce help smiling—though we didn't feel in a smiling humour at the time, for it was getting dark, and we had got to talking in low tones and looking anxiously over our shoulders, you know—
