“You don’t pass here, Mrs Salisbury.  No—­no—­it’s my turn now.”

“Your turn now, you beast!” retorted Moggy.  “Why, if I wished to pass, this poker would soon clear the way; but I can pass without that, and I will give you the countersign.  Hark! a word in your ear, you wretch.  You are in my power.  You have sent for a constable, and I swear by my own Jemmy’s little finger, which is worth your old shrivelled carcass, that I shall give you in charge of the constable.”

“Me!” exclaimed Vanslyperken.

“Yes, you—­you wretch—­you scum.  Now I am going, stop me if you dare.  Walls have ears, so I’ll whisper.  If you wish to send a constable after me, you’ll find me at the house of the Jew Lazarus.  Do you understand?”

Vanslyperken started back as if an adder had come before him, his sword dropped out of his hand, he stood transfixed.

“May I go now, Mr Vanslyperken, or am I to wait for the constable?  Silence gives consent,” continued Moggy, making a mock courtesy, and walking out of the room.

For a minute, Vanslyperken remained in the same position.  At last, bursting with his feelings, he snatched up his sword, put it into the sheath, and was about to quit the room, when in came the landlady with the constable.

“You vants me, sir?” said the man.

“I did,” stammered Vanslyperken, “but she is gone.”

“I must be paid for my trouble, sir, if you please.”

Vanslyperken had again to pull out his purse; but this time he hardly felt the annoyance, for in his mind’s eye his neck was already in the halter.  He put the money into the man’s hand without speaking, and then left the room, the landlady courtesying very low, and hoping that she soon should again have the pleasure of his company at the Wheatsheaf.

Chapter XXXI

In which Snarleyyow again triumphs over his enemies.

But we must return to the cabin, and state what took place during this long absence of the commander, who had gone on shore about three o’clock, and had given directions for his boat to be at the Point at sunset.  There had been a council of war held on the forecastle, in which Corporal Van Spitter and Smallbones were the most prominent; and the meeting was held to debate, whether they should or should not make one more attempt to destroy the dog; singular that the arguments and observations very nearly coincided with those made use of by Vanslyperken and his mother, when they debated how to get rid of Smallbones.

“Water won’t touch him, I sees that,” observed Smallbones.

“No.  Mein Gott, dat was to trow time and de trouble away,” replied the corporal.

“Hanging’s just as natural a death for a cur,” observed Spurey.

“Yes,” observed Short.

“I’m afeard that the rope’s not laid that’s to hang that animal,” observed Coble, shaking his head.  “If water won’t do, I’m persuaded nothing will, for did not they use, in former days, to lay all spirits in the Red Sea?”