“‘Are you awake?” said I.
‘“Heaven help me, as I stand here, sir,” exclaimed the fellow, solemnly, “if that there voice which talked in the hold t’other day ain’t now over the side.”
‘I ran forward, and found most of the watch huddled together near the starboard cathead. I peered over, and there was a dead silence.
“‘What are you looking over that side for? I’m here!” said a thin, faint voice, that seemed more in the air than in the sea.
‘“There!” exclaimed one of the seamen, in a hoarse whisper, “That’s the third time. Whichever side we look, he’s on the other.”
“‘But there must be some one in the water,” said another man. “Anybody see his outline? cuss me if I couldn’t swear I see a chap swimmin’ just now.”
“‘No, no,” answered some one gruffly, “nothing but phosphorus, Joe, and the right sort o’ stuff too, for if this ain’t Old Nick-”
‘“You’re a liar, Sam!” came the voice clear and as one could swear, plain from over the side.
‘There was a general recoil, and a sort of groan ran among the men.
‘At the same moment I collared a figure standing near me, and slewed him round to bring his face fair to the starlight, clear of the staysail. “Come you along with me, Master Dick,” said I; and I marched him off the forecastle, along the main deck, and up on to the poop, “So you're the ghost, eh?” said I. “Why, to have kept your secret you should have given my elbow a wider berth. No wonder the Voice only makes observations in my watch. You’re too lazy, I suppose, to leave your hammock to try your wonderful power on the mate, eh? Now see here,” said I, finding him silent, and noticing how white his face glimmered to the stars, “I know you’re the man, so you’d better confess. Own the truth and I’ll keep your secret, providing you belay all further tricks of this same kind; deny that you’re the ghost and I’ll speak to the captain and set the men upon you.”
‘This fairly frightened him. “Well, sir, it’s true; I’m the Voice, sir; but for God’s sake keep the secret, sir. The men ’ud have my life if they found out that it was me as scared them.” ‘This confession was what I needed, for though when standing pretty close to him on the forecastle I could have sworn that it was he who uttered the words which perplexed and awed the sailors, yet so perfect was the deception, so fine, in short, was his skill as a ventriloquist that, had he stoutly denied and gone on denying that he was the “voice,” I should have believed him and continued sharing in the wonder and superstition of the crew. I kept his secret as I promised; but, somehow or other, it leaked out in time that he could deceive the ear by apparently pitching his voice among the rigging, or under the deck, or over the side, though the discovery was not made until the “ghost” had for a long time ceased to trouble the ship’s company, and until the men’s superstitious awe had faded somewhat, and they had recovered their old cheerfulness. We then sent for Dick to the cabin, where he gave a real entertainment as a ventriloquist, imitating all sorts of animals and producing sounds as of women in distress and men singing out for help in the berths; indeed, such was the skill that I’d often see the skipper and mate turning startled to look in the direction whence the voices proceeded. He made his peace with the men by amusing them in the same way; so that, instead of getting the rope’s-ending aft and the pummelling forward which he deserved, he ended as a real and general favourite, and one of the most amusing fellows that a man ever was shipmate with. I used to tell him that if he chose to perform ashore he was sure to make plenty of money, since such ventriloquial powers as his were the rarest thing in the world; and I’d sometimes fancy he meant to take my advice. But whether he died or kept on going to sea I don’t know, for after he left the ship I never saw nor heard of him again.”
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
J. HABAKUK JEPHSON’S STATEMENT
The mystery of W. Clark Russell's ‘A Bewitched Ship' was explained simply enough, but the sea has a great many famous true mysteries which have defied all attempts to explain them. The legend of the phantom ship The Flying Dutchman, which I have already mentioned, is one; while the curious case of the abandoned vessel the Marie Celeste is another which has intrigued a lot of people for many years. In the next two stories a pair of distinguished writers attempt to offer solutions to these puzzling cases.
In 'J. Habakuk Jephson's Statement', Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (1859-1930) uses the kind of clever analytical powers that his famous detective Sherlock Holmes possessed to try to unravel the mystery of the brigantine Marie Celeste, found drifting and deserted at sea in 1873. Conan Doyle poses an intriguing and unexpected solution, which I will not discuss here to avoid spoiling your enjoyment. However, I must just say that when the story was first published anonymously in the Cornhill Magazine in 1884 it was taken as a serious account by certain officials in the British government.
I think all keen students of the Sherlock Holmes' stories will know why I have placed this tale immediately after that by W. Clark Russell. Russell's stories were, of course, the favourite reading material of the good Doctor Watson!
In the month of December in the year 1873, the British Ship Dei Gratia steered into Gibraltar, having in tow the derelict brigantine Marie Celeste which had been picked up in latitude 38° 40', longitude 17° 14' W. There were several circumstances in connection with the condition and appearance of this abandoned vessel which excited considerable comment at the time, and aroused a curiosity which has never been satisfied. What these circumstances were was summed up in an able article which appeared in the Gibraltar Gazette. The curious can find it in the issue for January 4,1874, unless my memory deceives me. For the benefit of those, however, who may be unable to refer to the paper in question, I shall subjoin a few extracts which touch upon the leading features of the case.
‘We have ourselves,’ says the anonymous writer in the Gazette, ‘been over the derelict Marie Celeste, and have closely questioned the officers of the Dei Gratia on every point which might throw light on the affair. They are of opinion that she had been abandoned several days, or perhaps weeks, before being picked up. The official log, which was found in the cabin, states that the vessel sailed from Boston to Lisbon, starting upon October 16. It is, however, most imperfectly kept, and affords little information. There is no reference to rough weather, and, indeed, the state of the vessel’s paint and rigging excludes the idea that she was abandoned for any such reason. She is perfectly watertight. No signs of a struggle or of violence are to be detected, and there is absolutely nothing to account for the disappearance of the crew. There are several indications that a lady was present on board, a sewing-machine being found in the cabin and some articles of female attire. These probably belonged to the captain’s wife, who is mentioned in the log as having accompanied her husband. As an instance of the mildness of the weather, it may be remarked that a bobbin of silk was found standing upon the sewing-machine, though the least roll of the vessel would have precipitated it to the floor. The boats were intact and slung upon the davits; and the cargo, consisting of tallow and American clocks, was untouched. An old-fashioned sword of curious workmanship was discovered among some lumber in the forecastle, and this weapon is said to exhibit a longitudinal striation on the steel, as if it had been recently wiped. It has been placed in the hands of the police, and submitted to Dr Monaghan, the analyst, for inspection. The ~esult of his examination has not yet been published. We may remark, in conclusion, that Captain Dalton, of the Dei Gratia, an able and intelligent seaman, is of opinion that the Marie Celeste may have been abandoned a considerable distance from the spot at which she was picked up, since a powerful current runs up in that latitude from the African coast. He confesses his inability, however, to advance any hypothesis which can reconcile all the facts of the case. In the utter absence of a clue or grain of evidence, it is to be feared that the fate of the crew of the Marie Celeste will be added to those numerous mysteries of the deep which will never be solved until the great day when the sea shall give up its dead. If crime has been committed, as is much to be suspected, there is little hope of bringing the perpetrators to justice.’