“How dare you beat my dog, you villain?” said the lieutenant at last, choking with passion.
“He’s a-bitten my leg through and through, sir,” replied Smallbones, with a face of alarm.
“Well, sir, why have you such thin legs, then?”
“ ’Cause I gets nothing to fill ’em up with.”
“Have you not a herring there, you herring-gutted scoundrel? which, in defiance of all the rules of the service, you have brought on his Majesty’s quarter-deck, you greedy rascal, and for which I intend—”
“It ar’n’t my herring, sir, it be yours, for your breakfast; the only one that is left out of the half-dozen.”
This last remark appeared somewhat to pacify Mr. Vanslyperken.
“Go down below, sir,” said he, after a pause “and let me know when my breakfast is ready.”
Smallbones obeyed immediately, too glad to escape so easily.
“Snarleyyow,” said his master, looking at the dog, who remained on the other side of the forecastle; “O Snarleyyow, for shame! Come here, sir. Come here, sir, directly.”
But Snarleyyow, who was very sulky at the loss of his anticipated breakfast, was contumacious, and would not come. He stood at the other side of the forecastle, while his master apostrophised him, looking him in the face. Then, after a pause of indecision, he gave a howling sort of bark, trotted away to the main hatchway, and disappeared below. Mr. Vanslyperken returned to the quarter-deck, and turned, and turned as before.
Chapter Two.
Showing what Became of the Red-Herring.
Smallbones soon made his re-appearance, informing Mr. Vanslyperken that his breakfast was ready for him, and Mr. Vanslyperken, feeling himself quite ready for his breakfast, went down below. A minute after he had disappeared another man came up to relieve the one at the wheel, who, as soon as he had surrendered up the spokes, commenced warming himself after the most approved method, by flapping his arms round his body.
“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.”
Smallbones raised up his thin arms, and clasped his hands, pleading for mercy.
“And after the flogging you shall be keel-hauled.”
“O God!” screamed Smallbones, falling down on his knees, “mercy—mercy!”
But there was none. Snarleyyow, when he saw the lad go down on his knees, flew at him, and threw him on his back, growling over him, and occasionally looking at his master.
“Come here, Snarleyyow,” said Mr. Vanslyperken. “Come here, sir, and lie down.” But Snarleyyow had not forgotten the red-herring; so in revenge he first bit Smallbones in the thigh, and then obeyed his master.
“Get up, sir,” cried the lieutenant.
Smallbones rose, but his temper now rose also; he forgot all that he was to suffer, from indignation against the dog: with flashing eyes, and whimpering with rage, he cried out, as the tears fell, and his arms swung round, “I’ll not stand this—I’ll jump overboard—that I will: fourteen times has that ere dog a-bitten me this week. I’d sooner die at once than be made dog’s meat of in this here way.”
“Silence, you mutinous rascal, or I’ll put you in irons.”
“I wish you would—irons don’t bite, if they hold fast. I’ll run away—I don’t mind being hung—that I don’t—starved to death, bitten to death in this here way—”
“Silence, sir. It’s over-feeding that makes you saucy.”
“The Lord forgive you!” cried Smallbones, with surprise; “I’ve not had a full meal—”
“A full meal, you rascal! there’s no filling a thing like you—hollow from top to bottom, like a bamboo.”
“And what I does get,” continued Smallbones, with energy, “I pays dear for; that ere dog flies at me, if I takes a bit o’ biscuit. I never has a bite without getting a bite, and it’s all my own allowance.”
“A proof of his fidelity, and an example to you, you wretch,” replied the lieutenant, fondly patting the dog on the head.
“Well, I wish you’d discharge me, or hang me, I don’t care which. You eats so hearty, and the dog eats so hearty, that I gets nothing. We are only victualled