"He came in a storm, and he went in a storm; he came in the night, and
he went in the night; he came nobody knows from whence, and he has gone
nobody knows where. For aught I know he has gone to sea once more on
his chest and may land to bother some people on the other side of the
world! Though it's a thousand pities," added the landlord, "if he has
gone to Davy Jones that he had not left his sea-chest behind him."
"The sea-chest! St. Nicholas preserve us!" said Peechy Prauw. "I'd not
have had that sea-chest in the house for any money; I'll warrant he'd
come racketing after it at nights, and making a haunted house of the
inn. And as to his going to sea on his chest, I recollect what happened
to Skipper Onderdonk's ship on his voyage from Amsterdam.
"The boatswain died during a storm, so they wrapped him up in a sheet,
and put him in his own sea-chest, and threw him overboard; but they
neglected in their hurry-skurry to say prayers over him - and the storm
raged and roared louder than ever, and they saw the dead man seated in
his chest, with his shroud for a sail, coming hard after the ship; and
the sea breaking before him in great sprays like fire, and there they
kept scudding day after day and night after night, expecting every
moment to go to wreck; and every night they saw the dead boatswain in
his sea-chest trying to get up with them, and they heard his whistle
above the blasts of wind, and he seemed to send great seas mountain
high after them, that would have swamped the ship if they had not put
up the dead lights. And so it went on till they lost sight of him in
the fogs of Newfoundland, and supposed he had veered ship and stood for
Dead Man's Isle. So much for burying a man at sea without saying
prayers over him."
The thunder-gust which had hitherto detained the company was now at an
end. The cuckoo clock in the hall struck midnight; every one pressed to
depart, for seldom was such a late hour trespassed on by these quiet
burghers. As they sallied forth they found the heavens once more
serene. The storm which had lately obscured them had rolled aways and
lay piled up in fleecy masses on the horizon, lighted up by the bright
crescent of the moon, which looked like a silver lamp hung up in a
palace of clouds.
The dismal occurrence of the night, and the dismal narrations they had
made, had left a superstitious feeling in every mind.
