“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 Englishmen 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, heh?” 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 thickset, 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.