“I shall assume that I am awake,” he decided after he had felt his pinch. “I may not be, but I'm going to act as if I were.”
Madden had an impression that Caradoc was smiling in the darkness. Just then Gaskin began laughing shrilly in a queer metallic voice.
“Quit that!” snapped half a dozen thick voices at once, as if his laughter had violently shocked their tense nerves.
Gaskin pointed a stumpy arm off the starboard bow, “Look! Look!” he gasped. “It's that rotten whiskey! Whiskey done it! Whiskey made me see that! Look w'ot whiskey done!”
Leonard had no idea that anything could be added to the nightmarish quality of the adventure, but there off the starboard arose a great bulk, blotting out the stars. It was not a ship; it was not a barge; there was not a light on it, but it seemed somehow dimly illuminated. It was as shapeless as death.
“The Flyin' Dutchman!” shuddered Galton.
“It burns a blue light!” corrected Hogan with chattering teeth.
“Th' ship o' the dead!” shivered Mulcher.
A sudden explanation flashed into Madden's
