“Why,” replied Jemmy Ducks, “at all events, imp o’ Satan or not, that here Smallbones fought him to-day with his own weapons.”
“And beat him too,” said. Coble.
“Yes,” said Short.
“Now, it’s my opinion, that Smallbones ar’nt afraid of him,” continued Jemmy Ducks, “and devil or no devil, he’ll kill him, if he can.”
“He’s the proper person to do it,” replied Coble; “the more so, as you may say that he’s his natural enemy.”
“Yes, mein Got, de poy is de man,” said Jansen.
“We’ll put him up to it at all events, as soon as he is out of his hammock,” rejoined Jemmy Ducks.
A little more conversation took place, and then it was carried unanimously that Smallbones should destroy the animal, if it was possible to destroy it.
The only party who was not consulted was Smallbones himself, who lay fast asleep in his hammock. The consultation then broke up, and they all went below.
Chapter Six.
In which as often happens at Sea when Signals are not made out, Friends exchange Broadsides.
Notwithstanding all the precautions of the party on the forecastle, this consultation had been heard by no less a person than the huge Corporal Van Spitter, who had an idea that there was some mystery going on forward, and had contrived to crawl up under the bulwark, and throw himself down on the fore-staysail, which lay between two of the guns. Having so done without being perceived, for it was the very moment that the party were all listening to Bill Spurey’s legend of the dog’s first appearance on board, he threw a part of the sail over his fat carouse, and thus remained undiscovered during the remainder of the colloquy. He heard them all descending below, and remained still quiet, till he imagined that the forecastle was clear. In the meantime, Mr. Vanslyperken who had been walking the deck abaft, unaccompanied by his faithful attendant (for Snarleyyow remained coiled up on his master’s bed), was meditating deeply how to gratify the two most powerful passions in our nature, love and revenge: at one moment thinking of the fat fair Vandersloosh, and of hauling in her guilders, at another reverting to the starved Smallbones and the comfort of a keel-hauling. The long conference on the forecastle had not been unperceived by the hawk’s eye of the lieutenant, and as they descended he walked forward to ascertain if he could not pick up some straggler who, unsupported by his comrades, might be induced by fear to acquaint him with the subject of the discussion. Now, just as Mr. Vanslyperken came forward, Corporal Van Spitter had removed the canvas from his body, and was about to rise from his bed, when he perceived somebody coming forward. Not making it out to be the lieutenant, he immediately dropped down again and drew the canvas over him. Mr. Vanslyperken perceived this manoeuvre, and thought he had now caught one of the conspirators, and, moreover, one who showed such fear as to warrant the supposition that he should be able to extract from him the results of the night’s unusually long conference.
Mr. Vanslyperken walked up to where the corporal lay as quiet but not quite so small as a mouse. It occurred to Mr. Vanslyperken that a little taste of punishment in esse would very much assist the threats of what might be received in posse; so he laid aside his speaking-trumpet, looked round, picked up a handspike, and raising it above his head, down it came, with all the force of the lieutenant’s arm, upon Corporal Van Spitter, whose carcase resounded like a huge kettle-drum.
“Tunder and flame!” roared the corporal under the canvas, thinking that one of the seamen, having discovered him eavesdropping, had thus wreaked his revenge, taking advantage of his being covered up, and pretending not to know him. “Tunder and flame!” roared the corporal, muffled up in the canvas, and trying to extricate himself; but his voice was not recognised by the lieutenant, and, before he could get clear of his envelope, the handspike had again descended; when up rose the corporal, like a buffalo out of his muddy lair, half blinded by the last blow, which had fallen on his head, ran full butt at the lieutenant, and precipitated his senior officer and commander headlong down the fore-hatchway.
Vanslyperken fell with great force, was stunned, and lay without motion at the foot of the ladder, while the corporal, whose wrath was always excessive when his blood was up, but whose phlegmatic blood could not be raised without some such decided stimulus as a handspike, now turned round and round the forecastle, like a bull looking for his assailants; but the corporal had the forecastle all to himself, and, as he gradually cooled down, he saw lying close to him the speaking-trumpet of his senior officer.
“Tousand tyfels,” murmured Corporal Van Spitter, “but it must have been the skipper. Got for dam, dis is hanging matter!” Corporal Van Spitter was as cool as a cucumber as soon as he observed what a mistake he had made; in fact he quivered and trembled in his fat. “But then,” thought he, “perhaps he did not know me—no, he could not, or he never would have handspiked me.” So Corporal Van Spitter walked down the hatchway, where he ascertained that his commandant lay insensible. “Dat is good,” thought he; and he went aft, lighted his lantern, and, as a ruse, knocked at the cabin-door. Receiving no answer but the growl of Snarleyyow, he went in, and then ascended to the quarter-deck, looked round him, and inquired of the man at the wheel where Mr. Vanslyperken might be. The man replied that he had gone forward a few minutes before, and thither the corporal proceeded. Of course, not finding him, he returned, telling the man that the skipper was not in the cabin or the forecastle, and wondering where he could be. He then descended to the next officer in command, Dick Short, and called him.
“Well,” said Short.
“Can’t find Mr. Vanslyperken anywhere,” said the corporal.
“Look,” replied Dick, turning round in his hammock.
“Mein Got, I have looked de forecastle, de quarter-deck, and de cabin—he not anywhere.”
“Overboard,” replied Dick.
“I come to you, sir, to make inquiry,” said the corporal.
“Turn out,” said Dick, suiting the action to the words, and lighting with his feet on the deck in his shirt.
While Short was dressing himself, the corporal summoned up all his marines; and the noise occasioned by this turn out, and the conversation overheard by those who were awake, soon gave the crew of the cutter to understand that some accident had happened to their commander. Even Smallbones had it whispered in his ear that Mr. Vanslyperken had fallen overboard, and he smiled as he lay in the dark, smarting with his wounds, muttering to himself that Snarleyyow should soon follow his master. By the time that Short was on the quarterdeck, Corporal Van Spitter, who knew very well where to look for it, had, very much to the disappointment of the crew found the body of Mr. Vanslyperken, and the marines had brought it aft to the cabin, and would have laid it on the bed, had not Snarleyyow, who had no feeling in his composition, positively denied its being put there.
Short came down and examined his superior officer.
“Is he dead,” inquired the corporal with alarm.
“No,” replied Short.
“Vat can it be then?” said the corporal.
“Stunned,” replied Short.
“Mein Got! how could it happen?”
“Tumbled,” replied Short.
“What shall we do, sir?” rejoined the corporal.
“Bed,” replied Short, turning on his heel, and a minute after turning into his hammock.
“Mein Got, the dog will not let him go to bed,” exclaimed the corporal.
“Let’s put him in,” said