“Silence, Moggy,” said Jemmy, who was standing by her.

“Yes, I’ll hold my tongue till the time comes, and then I’ll sarve him out, the cheating wagabond.”

“Silence, Moggy.”

“And as for that ’peaching old Corporal Blubber, I’ll Wan Spitter him if ever he turns up again to blow the gaff against my own dear Jemmy.”

“Silence, Moggy—­there’s rowed of all, and a marine at your elbow.”

“Let him take that for his trouble,” cried Moggy, turning round, and delivering a swinging box of the ear upon the astonished marine, who not liking to encounter such an Amazon, made a hasty retreat down the fore-hatchway.

“So there you are, are you?” continued Moggy, as Vanslyperken stepped on the deck.

“Silence, Moggy.”

“You, that would flog my own dear darling duck—­my own Jemmy.”

“Silence!  Moggy, will you?” said Jemmy Ducks, in an angry tone, “or I’ll smash your peepers.”

“You must climb on the gun to reach them, my little man,” replied his wife.  “Well, the more I holds my tongue now, the more for him when I gets hold on him.  Oh! he’s gone to his cabin, has he, to kiss his Snarleyyow:—­I’ll make smallbones of that beast afore I’m done with him.  Flog my Jemmy—­my own, dear, darling Jemmy—­a nasty lean—­”

“Go down below, Moggy,” said Jemmy Ducks, pushing her towards the hatchway.

“Snivelling, great-coated—­”

“Go below,” continued Jemmy, shoving her.

“Ferret-eyed, razor-nosed—­”

“Go down below, will you?” cried Jemmy, pushing her near to the hatchway.

“Herring-gutted, bare-poled—­”

“Confound it! go below.”

“Cheating rip of a wagabond!  Lord, Jemmy, if you a’n’t a shoved me down the hatchway!  Well, never mind, my darling, let’s go to supper;” and Moggy caught hold of her husband as she was going down, and with surprising strength lifted him off his legs and carried him down in her arms as she would have done a child, much to the amusement of the men who were standing on the forecastle.

When it was dusk, a boat dropped alongside of the cutter, and a man stepped out of it on the deck, when he was met by Obadiah Coble, who asked him, “What’s your pleasure?”

“I must speak with the commander of this vessel directly.”

“Wait a moment, and I’ll tell him what you say,” replied Coble, who reported the message to Mr Vanslyperken.

“What sort of a person is he?” demanded the lieutenant.

“Oh, I don’t know,—­sort of half-bred, long-shore chap—­looks something between a bumbailey and a bum-boatman.”

“Well, you may show him down.”

The man, who shortly after entered the cabin, was a short, punchy little fellow, with a red waistcoat, knee-breeches, and a round jacket of green cloth.  His face was covered with carbuncles, some of them so large that his small pug-nose was nothing more in appearance than a larger blotch than the others.  His eyes were small and keen, and his whiskers of a deep red.  As soon as he entered the cabin, he very deliberately locked the door after him.