We might--" He broke off, suddenly lifted his finger to his lip, whispered: "Keep your eyes open.

I'll be round again," and had vanished.
Directly after Jeremy heard Miss Jones's unwelcome voice: "Why, Jeremy, we couldn't find you anywhere.

It's turning cold--tea-time--" With a thump and a thud and a bang he fell back into the homely world.
III Jeremy was a perfectly normal little boy, and I defy anyone to have discovered in him at this stage in his progress, those strange morbidities and irregular instincts that were to be found in such unhappy human beings as Dostoieffsky's young hero in "Podrostok," or the unpleasant son and heir of Jude and Sue.

Nevertheless, eight years old is not too early for stranger impulses and wilder dreams than most parents ever conceive of, and the fortnight that followed Jeremy's meeting with the Sea-Captain was as peculiar and fantastic a fortnight as he was ever, in all his later life, to know.
For he was haunted--really haunted in the good old solid practical meaning of the term--haunted with the haunting that pursued Sintram and many another famous hero.

And he was haunted not only by the Sea-Captain, but by a thousand things that attended in that hero's company.