Corporal Van Spitter came into the cabin on the third morning with a very anxious face.—­“Mein Gott!  Mynheer Vanslyperken, de whole crew be in de mutinys.”

“Mutiny!” exclaimed Vanslyperken, “what’s the matter?”

“They say, sir, dat dey see de ghost of Smallbones last night on de bowsprit, with one great cut on his head, and de blood all over de face.”

“Saw what? who saw him?”

“Mein Gott, mynheer! it all true, I really think I see it myself at de taffrail, he sit there and have great wound from here down to,” said the corporal, pointing to his own head, and describing the wound exactly.  “The people say that he must have been murdered, and dey kick up de mutiny.”

“I did not do it, corporal, at all events,” replied Vanslyperken, pale and trembling.

“So Smallbones tell Dick Short, when he speak to him on bowsprit.”

“Did it speak to Short?” inquired Vanslyperken, catching the corporal’s arm.

“Yes, mynheer; Mynheer Short speak first, and den the ghost say dat you not do it, but dat you give gold to old woman to do it, and she knock him brain out vid de hammer.”

To portray Vanslyperken’s dismay at this intelligence would be impossible.  He could not but be certain that there had been a supernatural communication.  His knees knocked and trembled, and he turned sick and faint.

“O Lord, O Lord! corporal, I am a great sinner,” cried he at last, quite unaware of what he was saying.  “Some water, corporal.”  Corporal Van Spitter handed some water, and Vanslyperken waved his hand to be left alone; and Mr Vanslyperken attempted to pray, but it ended in blaspheming.

“It’s a lie, all a lie,” exclaimed he, at last, pouring out a tumbler of scheedam.  “They have frightened the corporal.  But—­no—­he must have seen him, or how could they know how he was murdered.  He must have told them; and him I saw dead and stiff, with these own eyes.  Well, I did not do the deed,” continued Vanslyperken, attempting to palliate his crime to himself; but it would not do, and Mr Vanslyperken paced the little cabin racked by fear and guilt.

Remorse he felt none, for there was before his eyes the unhealed stump of Snarleyyow.  In the evening Mr Vanslyperken went on deck; the weather was now very warm, for it was the beginning of July; and Mr Vanslyperken, followed by Snarleyyow, was in a deep reverie, and he turned and turned again.

The sun had set, and Mr Vanslyperken still continued his walk, but his steps were agitated and uneven, and his face was haggard.  It was rather the rapid and angry pacing of a tiger in his den, who has just been captured, than that of a person in deep contemplation.  Still Mr Vanslyperken continued to tread the deck, and it was quite light with a bright and pale moon.

The men were standing here and there about the forecastle and near the booms in silence and speaking in low whispers, and Vanslyperken’s eye was often directed towards them, for he had not forgotten the report of the corporal, that they were in a state of mutiny.