become more frequent. This Vanslyperken well knew, and he therefore always pressed his suit in the afternoon, and as soon as it was dark returned on board. Smallbones, who watched at the back door the movements of his master, perceived that he was refixing his sword-belt over his shoulder, and he knew this to be the signal for departure. It was now quite dark; he therefore hastened to the outhouse, and dragged out Snarleyyow in the bag, swung him over his shoulder, and walked out of the yard-door, proceeded to the canal in front of the widow’s house, looked round him, could perceive nobody, and then dragged the bag with its contents into the stagnant water below, just as Mr. Vanslyperken, who had bidden adieu to the widow, came out of the house. There was a heavy splash—and silence. Had such been heard on the shores of the Bosphorus on such a night, it would have told some tale of unhappy love and a husband’s vengeance; but, at Amsterdam, it was nothing more than the drowning of a cur.
“Who’s there—is it Smallbones?” said Mr. Vanslyperken.
“Yes, sir,” said Smallbones, with alarm.
“What was that noise I heard?”
“Noise, sir? Oh, I kicked a paving-stone into the canal.”
“And don’t you know there is a heavy fine for that, you scoundrel? And pray where are the bread-bags?”
“The bread-bags, sir? Oh, Mr. Short took them to tie up some vegetables in them.”
“Mr. Short! O, very well. Come along, sir, and no more throwing stones into the canal; why you might have killed somebody—there is a boat down there now, I hear the people talking.” And Mr. Vanslyperken hastened to his boat, which was waiting for him; anxious to ascertain if Snarleyyow, as he fully expected, was in it. But to his grief and disappointment he was not there, and Mr. Vanslyperken sat in the stern sheets, in no pleasant humour, thinking whether it was or was not a paving-stone which Smallbones had thrown into the canal, and resolving that if the dog did not appear, Smallbones should be keel-hauled. There was, however, one more chance, the dog might have been taken on board.
Chapter Nine.
A Long Chapter, in which there is Lamentation, Singing, Bibbling, and Dancing.
It may readily be supposed, that the first question asked by Mr. Vanslyperken, on his gaining the quarter-deck, was, if Snarleyyow were on board. He was received with the military salute of Corporal Van Spitter, for Obadiah Coble, having been left commanding officer, had given himself leave, and, with a few men, had joined Bob Short and the first party at the Lust Haus, leaving the corporal as the next senior officer in charge. The answer in the negative was a great mortification to Mr. Vanslyperken, and he descended to his cabin in no very good humour, and summoned Smallbones. But before Smallbones was summoned, he had time to whisper to one or two of the conspirators—“He’s gone.” It was enough; in less than a minute the whisper was passed throughout the cutter. “He’s gone,” was siffilated above and below, until it met the ears of even Corporal Van Spitter, who had it from a marine, who had it from another marine, who had it from a seaman, who—but it was, however, soon traced up to Smallbones by the indefatigable corporal—who considered it his duty to report the report to Mr. Vanslyperken. Accordingly he descended to the cabin and knocked for admission.
In the meantime Vanslyperken had been venting his ill-humour upon Smallbones, having, as he took off from his person, and replaced in his drawers, his unusual finery, administered an unusual quantity of kicks, as well as a severe blow on the head with his sheathed cutlass to the unfortunate lad, who repeated to himself, by way of consolation, the magic words—“He’s gone.”
“If you please, sir,” said Corporal Van Spitter, “I’ve discovered from the ship’s company that the dog is gone.”
“I know that, corporal,” replied Vanslyperken.
“And, sir, the report has been traced to Smallbones.”
“Indeed! Then it was you that said that the dog is gone—now, you villain, where is he?”
“If you please, I did say that the dog was gone, and so he is: but I didn’t say that I knew where he was—no more I don’t. He’s runned away, and he’ll be back to-morrow; I’m sure he will.”
“Corporal Van Spitter, if the dog is not on board again by eight o’clock to-morrow morning, you will get all ready for keel-hauling this scoundrel.”
“Yes, mynheer,” replied the corporal, delighted at having something to do in the way of punishment.
Smallbones made up a lachrymal face.
“It’s very hard,” said he; “suppose the dog has fallen into the canal, is that my fault? If he’s a-gone to the bottom of the canal, that’s no reason why I’m to be dragged under the bottom of the cutter.”
“Yes, yes,” replied Vanslyperken, “I’ll teach you to throw paving-stones off the wharf. Leave the cabin, sir.”
Smallbones, whose guilty conscience flew into his pallid face at the mention of the paving-stones, immediately made a hasty retreat; and Vanslyperken turned into his bed and dreamt of vengeance.
We must now return to the Lust Haus, and the party on shore; and our first task must be, to give the reader an idea of what a Lust Haus may be. It is, as its name imports, a resort for pleasure and amusement; and in this respect the Dutch are certainly very much in advance of the English, who have, in the pot-houses and low inns resorted to by seamen, no accommodation of the kind. There is barely room for Jack to foot it in a reel, the tap-room is so small; and as Jack is soon reeling after he is once on shore, it is a very great defect. Now, the Lust Haus is a room as large as an assembly-room in a country town, well lighted up with lamps and chandeliers, well warmed with stoves, where you have room to dance fifty reels at once, and still have plenty of accommodation at the chairs and tables ranged round on each side. At the end of the room is a raised chair, with a protecting railing, on which the musicians, to the number of seven or eight, are posted, and they continue during the evening to play when requested. The people of the Lust Haus furnish wine and spirits of every description, while cakes, nuts, walnuts, oranges, etcetera, are supplied from the baskets of numerous young women, who hand them round, and press their customers to purchase. Police-officers superintend these resorts, to remove those who are violent and interfere with the amusements of others. On the whole, it is a very gay scene, and is resorted to by seamen of all nations, with a sprinkling of those who are not sailors, but who like amusement, and there are plenty of females who are ready to dance with them, and to share their beer or grog. Be it further known, that there is a great deal of decorum in a Lust Haus, particularly among the latter sex; and altogether it is infinitely more rational and less debasing than the low pot-houses of Portsmouth or Plymouth.
Such was the place of amusement kept by the Frau Vandersloosh, and in this large room had been seated, for some hours, Dick Short, Coble, Jansen, Jemmy Ducks, and some others of the crew of his Majesty’s cutter Yungfrau.
The room was now full, but not crowded; it was too spacious well to be so. Some sixteen couples were dancing a quadrille to a lively tune played by the band, and among the dancers were to be seen old women, and children of tea or twelve; for it was not considered improper to be seen dancing at this humble assembly, and the neighbours frequently came in. The small tables and numerous chairs round the room were nearly all filled, beer was foaming from the mouths of the opened bottles,
