“What woman is that?” said he to Jansen, who was at the wheel.

“De frau, mynheer.  Dat is de frau of Shimmy Duk.”

“How dare she come on board?  Send her aft here, marine.”

The marine went forward and gave the order; and Jemmy, who expected a breeze, told his wife to behave herself quietly.  His advice did not, however, appear to be listened to, as will be shown in the sequel.

“How came you on board, woman?” cried Vanslyperken, looking at her from top to toe several times, as usual, with his hands in his great-coat pockets, and his battered speaking-trumpet under his arm.

“How did I come on board! why, in a boat to be sure,” replied Moggy, determined to have a breeze.

“Why did you not go on shore before the cutter sailed?” replied Vanslyperken, in an angry tone.

“Why, just for the contrary reason, because there was no boat.”

“Well, I’ll just tell you this, if ever I see you on board again, you’ll take the consequences,” retorted Vanslyperken.

“And I’ll just tell you this,” replied Moggy; “if ever you come on shore again you shall take the consequences.  I’ll have you—­I give you warning.  Flog my Jemmy, heh! my own dear darling Jemmy.”  Hereupon Moggy held out one arm bent, and with the palm of her other hand slapped her elbow—­“There!” cried she.

What Jemmy’s wife meant by this sign, it is impossible for us to say; but that it was a very significant one was certain, for Mr Vanslyperken foamed with rage, and all the cutter’s crew were tittering and laughing.  It was a species of free-masonry known only to the initiated at the Sallyport.

“Send the marines aft here.  Take this woman below,” cried Vanslyperken.  “I shall put all this down to your husband’s account, and give him a receipt in full, depend upon it.”

“So you may.  Marines, keep off, if you don’t wish your heads broken; and I’ll put all this down to your account; and as you say that you’ll pay off on my pet, mark my words, if I don’t pay off on yours—­on your nasty cur there.  I’ll send him to cruise after Corporal Van Spitter.  As sure as I stand here, if you dare to lay a finger on my Jemmy, I’ll kill the brute wherever I find him, and make him into saussingers, just for the pleasure of eating him.  I’ll send you a pound as a present.  You marine, don’t be a fool—­I can walk forward without your hoffering your arm, and be d——­d to you.”  So saying, Moggy stalked forward and joined the men on the forecastle.

“D’ye know much of that strapping lass?” said Mr Vanslyperken’s new acquaintance.

“Not I,” replied Vanslyperken, not much pleased at the observation.

“Well, look out for squalls, she’ll be as good as her word.  We’ll draw the foresheet, and stand in now, if you please.”