of abject misery, although he had the means of comfortable support. He was now fifty-five years of age. Since he had been appointed to the Yungfrau, he had been employed in carrying despatches to the States-General from King William, and had, during his repeated visits to the Hague, made acquaintance with the widow Vandersloosh, who kept a Lust Haus, (Pleasure house) a place of resort for sailors, where they drank and danced. Discovering that the comfortably fat lady was also very comfortably rich, Mr. Vanslyperken had made advances, with the hope of obtaining her hand and handling her money. The widow had, however, no idea of accepting the offer, but was too wise to give him a decided refusal, as she knew it would be attended with his preventing the crew of the cutter from frequenting her house, and thereby losing much custom. Thus did she, at every return, receive him kindly and give him hopes, but nothing more. Since the peace, as we before observed, the cutter had been ordered for the prevention of smuggling.
When and how Mr. Vanslyperken had picked up his favourite Snarleyyow cannot be discovered, and must remain a secret. The men said that the dog had appeared on the deck of the cutter in a supernatural way, and most of them looked upon him with as much awe as ill-will.
This is certain, that the cutter had been a little while before in a state of mutiny, and a forcible entry attempted at night into the lieutenant’s cabin. It is therefore not unreasonable to suppose that Vanslyperken felt that a good watch-dog might be a very useful appendage to his establishment, and had procured one accordingly. All the affection he ever showed to anything living was certainly concentrated on this one animal, and, next to his money, Snarleyyow had possession of his master’s heart.
Poor Smallbones, cast on the world without father or mother, had become starved before he was on board the cutter, and had been starved ever since. As the reader will perceive, his allowance was mostly eaten up by the dog, and he was left to beg a precarious support from the good-will and charity of his shipmates, all of whom were equally disgusted with the commander’s cruelty and the ungain temper of his brute companion.
Having entered into this retrospect for the benefit of the reader, we will now proceed.
Mr. Vanslyperken walked the deck for nearly a quarter of an hour without speaking: the men had finished their breakfasts, and were lounging about the deck, for there was nothing for them to do, except to look out for the return of the two boats which had been sent away the night before. The lieutenant’s thoughts were at one minute, upon Mrs. Vandersloosh thinking how he could persuade her, and, at another, upon Smallbones, thinking how he could render the punishment adequate, in his opinion, to the magnitude of the offence. While discussing these two important matters, one of the men reported the boats ahead, and broke up the commander’s reverie.
“How far off?” demanded Mr. Vanslyperken.
“About two miles.”
“Pulling or sailing?”
“Pulling, sir; we stand right for them.”
But Mr. Vanslyperken was in no pleasant humour, and ordered the cutter to be hove-to.
“I tink de men have pull enough all night,” said Jansen, who had just been relieved at the wheel, to Obadiah Coble, who was standing by him on the forecastle.
“I think so too: but there’ll be a breeze, depend upon it—never mind, the devil will have his own all in good time.”
“Got for dam,” said Jansen, looking at Beachy Head, and shaking his own.
“Why, what’s the matter now, old Schnapps?” said Coble.
“Schnapps—yes—the tyfel—Schnapps, I think how the French schnapped us Dutchmen here when you Englishment wouldn’t fight.”
“Mind what you say, old twenty breeches—wouldn’t fight—when wouldn’t we fight?”
“Here, where we were now, by Got, you leave us all in the lurch, and not come down.”
“Why, we couldn’t come down.”
“Bah!” replied Jansen, who referred to the defeat of the combined Dutch and English fleet by the French off Beachy Head in 1690.
“We wouldn’t fight, eh?” exclaimed Obadiah in scorn—“what do you say to the Hogue?”
“Yes, den you fought well—dat was good.”
“And shall I tell you why we fought well at the Hogue, you Dutch porpoise—just because we had no Dutchmen to help us.”
“And shall I tell you why the Dutch were beat off this Head?—because the English wouldn’t come down to help us.”
Here Obadiah put his tongue into his right cheek. Jansen in return threw his into his left, and thus the argument was finished. These disputes were constant at the time, but seldom proceeded further than words—certainly not between Coble and Jansen, who were great friends.
The boats were soon on board; from the time that the cutter had been hove-to, every stroke of their oars having been accompanied with a nautical anathema from the crews upon the head of their commander. The steersman and first officer, who had charge of the boats, came over the gangway and went up to Vanslyperken. He was a thick-set, stout man, about five feet four inches high, and, wrapped up in Flushing garments, looked very much like a bear in shape as well as in skin. His name was Dick Short, and in every respect he answered to his name, for he was short in stature, short in speech, and short in decision and action.
Now when Short came up to the lieutenant, he did not consider it at all necessary to say as usual, “Come on board, sir,” for it was self-evident that he had come on board. He therefore said nothing. So abrupt was he in his speech, that he never even said “Sir” when he spoke to his superior, which it may be imagined was very offensive to Mr. Vanslyperken; so it was, but Mr. Vanslyperken was afraid of Short, and Short was not the least afraid of Vanslyperken.
“Well, what have you done, Short?”
“Nothing.”
“Did you see anything of the boat?”
“No.”
“Did you gain any information?”
“No.”
“What have you been doing all night?”
“Pulling.”
“Did you land to obtain information?”
“Yes.”
“And you got none?”
“No.”
Here Short hitched up the waistband of his second pair of trousers, turned short round, and was going below, when Snarleyyow smelt at his heels. The man gave him a back kick with the heel of his heavy boot, which sent the dog off yelping and barking, and put Mr. Vanslyperken in a great rage. Not venturing to resent this affront upon his first officer, he was reminded of Smallbones, and immediately sent for Corporal Van Spitter to appear on deck.
Chapter Four.
