“The skipper’s out o’ sorts again this morning,” said Obadiah, after a time.  “I heard him muttering about the woman at the Lust Haus.”

“Then, by Got, we will have de breeze,” replied Jansen, who was a Dutch seaman of huge proportions, rendered still more preposterous by the multiplicity of his nether clothing.

“Yes, as sure as Mother Carey’s chickens raise the gale, so does the name of the Frau Vandersloosh.  I’ll be down and get my breakfast, there may be keel-hauling before noon.”

“Mein Got—­dat is de tyfel.”

“Keep her nor-east, Jansen, and keep a sharp look out for the boats.”

“Got for dam—­how must I steer the chip and look for de boats at de same time?—­not possible.”

“That’s no consarn o’ mine.  Those are the orders, and I passes them—­you must get over the unpossibility how you can.”  So saying, Obadiah Coble walked below.

We must do the same, and introduce the reader to the cabin of Lieutenant Vanslyperken, which was not very splendid in its furniture.  One small table, one chair, a mattress in a standing bed-place, with curtains made of bunting, an open cupboard, containing three plates, one tea-cup and saucer, two drinking glasses, and two knives.  More was not required, as Mr Vanslyperken never indulged in company.  There was another cupboard, but it was carefully locked.  On the table before the lieutenant was a white wash-hand basin, nearly half full of burgoo, a composition of boiled oatmeal and water, very wholesome, and very hot.  It was the allowance, from the ship’s coppers, of Mr Vanslyperken and his servant Smallbones.  Mr Vanslyperken was busy stirring it about to cool it a little, with a leaden spoon.  Snarleyyow sat close to him, waiting for his share, and Smallbones stood by, waiting for orders.

“Smallbones,” said the lieutenant, after trying the hot mess before him, and finding that he was still in danger of burning his mouth, “bring me the red-herring.”

“Red-herring, sir?” stammered Smallbones.

“Yes,” replied his master, fixing his little grey eye sternly on him, “the red-herring.”

“It’s gone, sir!” replied Smallbones, with alarm.

“Gone!—­gone where?”

“If you please, sir, I didn’t a-think that you would have touched it after the dog had had it in his nasty mouth; and so, sir—­if you please, sir—­”

“And so what?” said Vanslyperken, compressing his thin lips.

“I ate it myself—­if you please—­O dear—­O dear!”

“You did, did you—­you gluttonous scarecrow—­you did, did you?  Are you aware that you have committed a theft—­and are you aware of the punishment attending it?”

“O sir—­it was a mistake—­dear sir,” cried Smallbones, whimpering.

“In the first place, I will cut you to ribbons with the cat.”

“Mercy, sir—­O sir!” cried the lad, the tears streaming from his eyes.

“The thief’s cat, with three knots in each tail.”