Part III -- The Haunting

If there was a rest that befell his tormented spirit when he died, it did not reach to my chambers or my soul if I ventured outside. And then one evening, one moon later, as I walked along on a cold night in December watching the full moon, a voice I heard that gave me a fright. "Thar she blows, thar she blows! Cap'n, thar she blows!" I heard. "Friend, who came to my last resting, take ye time to hear my words." But seeing no one there about me I shivered deep, not from the cold, and ran headlong back to my chamber and the safety that it would hold. But there I could not escape either, as each night in my dreams, I saw the bearded old man wavingi to me to come, I woke and screamed. And then a night in January when the full moon lit the sky, at dusk again I heard him calling and saw him before my eye. I hesitated at the vision more frozen in fear than care, "Thar she blows, my captain! Please, friend, hear my tale that I must bear." "You, who came to my last resting, hear what has tormented me, that I may then, upon the gelling, find my rest and, as last, be free." The ghost moved forward from the shadows coming up just by my side, and I felt the chill of icy fingers through my coat and deep inside. I drew back, frightened, at the touching and looked into his hollow gaze where tears flowed freely from his dark eyes and froze in his heart, my heart ablaze. A skinny hand reached out at me and held in stillness in a plea that was silent yet heard most clearly even above the crashing sea. "Be gone from me, thou wicked madness! Spirit, must thou torment me so?" And I sprang from my frozen fright and hastened up the street to go. I shook inside and my heart ached as I ran and saw him there ahead at every corner that I came to, till I buried myself into my bed.

Part IV -- In My Chambers

Then there was a rest that found me; he visited me in dreams no more, and I did not see him one month later. I hurried home and locked the door. Outside all the full moon glistened on the snow that the night before did fall. I buried myself deep in the blankets till I heard footsteps in the hall. There came a knocking at my chamber and I called out softly: "Who's there?" And there came no answer, only resounding the tapping, and I fell into prayer. Then I looked out from my covering when the knocking finally ceased to see the gray form at the doorway and I felt my soul as it released. "Fear not, friend, I bid thee listen to my tale that I may rest, for none there was would ever hear me. I will not harm thee, may God attest." I said no word, but glanced in sorrow that the ghost did block my way, standing as he did at the doorway, and cursed, in my heart, that day. He stood in silence in his grayness, an empty form you could see through more like a ray from reflected moonlight that seemed warmer as it faded blue. A dark and dreary mist surrounded all the room in foggy cold, and I slid deeper into my bedclothes, trying to hide within their fold. Then the fire in the hearth flickered and went out, and in my bones, I felt unearthly coldness enter as I cowered before the ghost, alone. "Dear God, spare me, what have I done to be dealt this hellish fate?" But there was no rescue or answer -- all he did was stand there and wait. Moments passed that seemed as hours; then outside, a clock struck ten, and the spirit sighed in broken sorrow, and tears flowed from his eyes again. Then he raised his right arm pointing at a cross with his hollow physique. It glowed a restful white that soothed me, and from within, I heard my voice say, "Speak." Continue