Chapter Thirty One.In which Snarleyyow again triumphs over his Enemies.But we must return to the cabin, and state what took place during this long absence of the commander, who had gone on shore about three o’clock, and had given directions for his boat to be at the Point at sunset. There had been a council of war held on the forecastle, in which Corporal Van Spitter and Smallbones were the most prominent; and the meeting was held to debate whether they should or should not make one more attempt to destroy the dog; singular that the arguments and observations very nearly coincided with those mane use of by Vanslyperken and his mother, when they debated how to get rid of Smallbones.“Water won’t touch him, I sees that,” observed Smallbones.“No. Mein Gott, das was to trow time and de trouble away,” replied the corporal.“Hanging’s just as natural a death for a cur,” observed Spurey.“Yes,” observed Short.“I’m a-feared that the rope’s not laid that’s to hang that animal,” observed Coble, shaking his head. “If water won’t do, I’m persuaded nothing will, for did not they use, in former days, today all spirits in the Red Sea?”“Yes,” quoth Short.“But he ban’t a spirit yet,” replied Smallbones; “he be flesh and blood o’ some sort. If I gets fairly rid of his body, damn his soul, I say; he may keep that and welcome.”“But then, you know, he’ll haunt us just as much as ever—we shall see him here just the same.”“A spirit is only a spirit,” observed Smallbones; “he may live in the cabin all day and night afore I care; but, d’ye see, there’s a great difference between the ghost of a dog and the dog himself.”“Why, if the beast ar’n’t natural, I can’t see much odds,” observed Spurey.“But I can’t feel ’em,” replied Smallbones. “This here dog has a-bitten me all to bits, but a ghost of a dog can’t bite, anyhow.”“No,” replied Short.“And now, d’ye see, as Obadiah Coble has said as how spirits must be laid, I think if we were to come for to go for to lay this here hanimal in the cold hearth, he may perhaps not be able to get up again.”“That’s only a perhaps,” observed Coble.“Well, a perhaps is better than nothing at all,” said the lad.“Yes,” observed Short.“That depends upon sarcumstances,” observed Spurey. “What sort of a breakfast would you make upon a perhaps?”“A good one, perhaps,” replied Smallbones, grinning at the jingling of the words.“Twenty dozen tyfels! Smallbones is in de right,” observed Jansen, who had taken no part in the previous conversation. “Suppose you bury de dog, de dog body not get up again. Suppose he will come, his soul come, leave him body behind him.”“That’s exactly my notion of the thing,” observed Smallbones.“Do you mean for to bury him alive?” inquired Spurey.“Alive! Gott in himmel—no. I knock de brains out first, perry afterwards.”“There’s some sense in that, corporal.”“And the dog can’t have much left anyhow, dog or devil, when his brains are all out.”“No,” quoth Short.“But who is to do it?”“Corporal and I,” replied Smallbones; “we be agreed, ban’t we, corporal?”“Mein Gott, yes!”“And now I votes that we tries it off-hand; what’s the use of shilly-shally? I made a mortal vow that that ’ere dog and I won’t live together—there ban’t room enough for us two.”“It’s a wide world, nevertheless,” observed Coble, hitching up his trousers; “howsomever, I have nothing to say, but I wish you, luck; but if you kill that dog, I’m a bishop—that’s all.”“And if I don’t try for to do so, I am an harchbishop, that’s all,” replied the gallant Smallbones. “Come along, corporal.”And, here was to be beheld a novel scene. Smallbones followed in obedience by his former persecutor and his superior, officer; a bag of bones—a reed—a lath—a scarecrow; like a pilot cutter ahead of an Indiaman, followed in his wake by Corporal Van Spitter, weighing twenty stone. How could this be? It was human nature. Smallbones took the lead, because he was the more courageous of the two, and the corporal following, proved he tacitly admitted it.“He be a real bit of stuff, that ’ere Phil Smallbones,” said one of the men.“I thinks he be a supernatural himself, for my part,” rejoined Spurey.“At all events, he ar’n’t afeard of him,” said another.“We shall see,” replied Coble, squirting out his tobacco-juice under the gun.“Come, men, we must go to work now. Shall we, Mr Short?”“Yes,” replied the commanding officer; and the conference broke up.In the meantime the consultation was continued between Smallbones and the corporal. The latter had received instruction to take on shore Mr Vanslyperken’s dirty linen to the washerwoman, and of course, as a corporal, he was not obliged to carry it, and would take Smallbones for that purpose. Then he could easily excuse taking the dog on shore upon the plea of taking care of it. It was therefore so arranged; the dog would follow the corporal in the absence of his master, but no one else. In a few minutes the corporal, Smallbones, Snarleyyow, and a very small bundle of linen, were in the boat, and shoved off with as many good wishes and as much anxiety for their success, as probably Jason and his followers received when they departed in search of the Golden Fleece.The three parties kept in company, and passed through the town of Portsmouth. The washerwoman lived outside the Lines, and there they proceeded. Snarleyyow very much in spirits at being able to eat the grass, which his health very much required. They walked on until they arrived at a large elm-tree, on the side of the road, which lay between two hedges and ditches.“This will do,” observed the corporal solemnly. “Mein Gott! I wish it was over,” continued he, wiping the perspiration from his bull-forehead.“How shall we kill him, corporal?” inquired Smallbones.“Mein Gott! knock him head against de tree, I suppose.”“Yes, and bury him in the ditch. Here, dog—Snarleyyow—here, dog,” said Smallbones; “come, a poor doggy—come here.”But Snarleyyow was not to be coaxed by Smallbones; he suspected treachery.“He won’t a-come to me, corporal, or I’d soon settle his hash,” observed Smallbones.The corporal had now got over a little panic which had seized him. He called Snarleyyow, who came immediately. Oh! had he imagined what the corporal was about to do, he might have died like Caesar, exclaiming, “Et tu, Brute?” which in plain English means, “and you—you brute?”The corporal, with a sort of desperation, laid hold of the dog by the tail, drawing him back till he could swing him round. In a second or two, Snarleyyow was whirling round the corporal, who turned with him, gradually approaching the trunk of the elm-tree, till at last his head came in contact with it with a resounding blow, and the dog fell senseless. “Try it again, corporal, let’s finish him.” The corporal again swung round the inanimate body of the dog; again, and again, and again, did the head come in contact with the hard wood; and then the corporal, quite out of breath with the exertion, dropped the body on the grass. Neither of them spoke a word for some time, but watched the body, as it lay motionless, doubled up, with the fore and hind feet meeting each other, and the one eye closed.“Well, I’ve a notion that he is done for, any how,” said Smallbones, “at last.”“Mein Gott, yes!” replied the corporal. “He never get on his legs again, be he tog or be he tyfel.”“Now for to come for to go for to bury him,” said Smallbones, swinging the dog by the tail, and dragging him towards the ditch. “I wonder if we could get a spade anywhere, corporal.”“Mein Gott! if we ask for a spade they will ask what for, and Vanslyperken may find it all out.”“Then I’ll bury him and cover him up, anyhow; he’ll not come to life again; if he does, may I be knocked on the head like him, that’s all.” Smallbones dragged the body into the ditch, and collecting out of the other parts of the ditch a great quantity of wet leaves, covered the body a foot deep. “There, they won’t find him now, because they won’t know where to look for him. I say, corporal, I’ve a notion we had better not be seen here too long.”“No,” said the corporal, wiping his forehead, putting his handkerchief in his cap, and his cap on his head; “we must go now.”They went to the washerwoman’s, delivered the bundle, and then returned on board, when the whole crew were informed of the success of the expedition, and appeared quite satisfied that there was an end of the detested cur; all but Coble, who shook his head.“We shall see,” says he; “but I’m blessed if I don’t expect the cur back to-morrow morning.”We must now return to Vanslyperken, who left the public house in a state of consternation. “How could she possibly know anything about it?” exclaimed he. “My life in the power of that she-devil!” And Vanslyperken walked on, turning over the affair in his mind. “I have gone too far to retreat now. I must either go on, or fly the country. Fly—where? What a fool have I been!” but then Vanslyperken thought of the money. “No, no, not a fool, but I am very unfortunate.” Vanslyperken continued his route, until it at last occurred to him that he would go to the Jew Lazarus, and speak with him; for, thought Vanslyperken, if all is discovered, they may think that I have informed, and then my life will be sought by both parties. Vanslyperken arrived at the Jew’s abode, knocked softly, but received no answer: he knocked again, louder; a bustle and confusion was heard inside, and at last the door, with the chain fixed, was opened a couple of inches, and the Jew stammered out, “Wot vash there at this late hour of the night?”“It is me, the lieutenant of the cutter,” replied Vanslyperken. “I must speak with you directly.”The door was opened, several figures, and the clatter of arms, were heard in the dark passage, and as soon as Vanslyperken had entered it was relocked, and he was left in the dark.In a minute the Jew, in a woollen wrapper, made his appearance with a light, and led Vanslyperken into the room where he had been shown before. “Now then, Mishter Leeftenant, vat vash de matter?”“We are discovered, I’m afraid!” exclaimed Vanslyperken.“Holy father Abraham!” exclaimed the Jew, starting back. “But tell me vy you shay sho.”“A woman told me this night that she knew why I came to your house—that I was in her power.”“Vat woman?”“A hell-cat, who hates me as she does the devil.”“A hell-cat vould not hate de divil,” slowly observed the Jew.“Well, perhaps not; but she will ruin me if she can.”“Vat vash her name?” said Lazarus.“Moggy Salisbury.”“Paah! is dat all? vy, my good friend, she is one of us. Dere, you may go vay—you may go to bed, Mr Vanslyperken.”“What do you mean?”“I mean dat she laughed at you, and frighten you—dat she is one of us, and so is her husband, who was in your chip. Ven you hang, she and I vill all hang together; now you comprehend?”“Yes,” replied Vanslyperken, “I do now: but how could you trust such people?”“Trust such people, Mr Vanslyperken! If you prove as true as those people, vy all de bitter; now go avay—go to bed—you have vaked up all the peoples here. Good night, Mr Leeftenant,” and the Jew led the way to the door, and let Vanslyperken out.“So then,” thought Vanslyperken, as he pursued his way down to the Point, “that woman and her husband are—damnation, but I’ve a great mind to discover all, if it’s only to hang them.” But on second thoughts, Vanslyperken thought that it was not worth while to be hanged himself, just for the pleasure of hanging others. It was a great relief to his mind to know that there was no fear of discovery. The tip of his nose itched, and he rubbed it mechanically; the rubbing brought away all the skin. He remembered the hot poker—the money he had been forced to pay—his being made to sing and to beg pardon on his knees; and he cursed Moggy in his heart, the more so, as he felt that he dared not take any steps against her.When he came to the Point, he stood on the shingle, looking for his boat, but the men had waited till twelve o’clock, and then, presuming that their commander did not intend to come at all that night, had pulled on board again. He was looking round for a waterman to pull him off, when something cold touched his hand, Vanslyperken started, and almost screamed with fear. He looked and it was the cold nose of Snarleyyow, who now leaped upon his master.“Snarleyyow, my poor dog how came you on shore?”But the dog not being able to speak, made no answer.While Vanslyperken was wondering how the dog could possibly have come on shore, and what Corporal Van Spitter could be about to have allowed it, the small casement of a garret window near him was opened, and a head was thrust out.“Do you want to go on board, sir?” said a tremulous voice.“Yes,” replied Vanslyperken.“I will be down directly, sir,” replied the old boatman, who in a minute or two appeared with his sculls on his shoulder.“Not easy to find a boat at this time of the morning, sir,” said the man; “but I heard you speaking, for I’ve had such a toothache these two nights that I can’t shut my eyes.”The old man unlocked the chain which fastened his wherry, and in a few minutes Vanslyperken was on the deck of the cutter, but he found there was no one to receive him—no watch kept.“Very well,” thought he, “we’ll talk about this to-morrow morning. Short or Coble, I wonder which of the two—pretty neglect of duty indeed—report to the admiral, by heavens!”So saying, Mr Vanslyperken, with Snarleyyow at his heels, went down into the cabin—undressed in the dark, for he would not let any one know that he was on board. It being about three o’clock in the morning, and Mr Vanslyperken being well tired with the events of the day, he was soon in a sound sleep. There will be no difficulty in accounting for the return of the dog, which had a skull much thicker than even the corporal’s. He had been stunned with the heavy blows, but not killed. After a certain time he came to himself in his bed of leaves, first scratched with one paw, and then with another, till his senses returned: he rose, worked his way out, and lay down to sleep. After he had taken a long nap, he rose recovered, shook himself, and trotted down to the beach, but the boat had shoved off, and the cur had remained there waiting for an opportunity to get on board, when his master came down with the same object in view.But as every soul is fast asleep, we shall now finish the chapter.
But we must return to the cabin, and state what took place during this long absence of the commander, who had gone on shore about three o’clock, and had given directions for his boat to be at the Point at sunset. There had been a council of war held on the forecastle, in which Corporal Van Spitter and Smallbones were the most prominent; and the meeting was held to debate whether they should or should not make one more attempt to destroy the dog; singular that the arguments and observations very nearly coincided with those mane use of by Vanslyperken and his mother, when they debated how to get rid of Smallbones.
“Water won’t touch him, I sees that,” observed Smallbones.
“No. Mein Gott, das was to trow time and de trouble away,” replied the corporal.
“Hanging’s just as natural a death for a cur,” observed Spurey.
“Yes,” observed Short.
“I’m a-feared that the rope’s not laid that’s to hang that animal,” observed Coble, shaking his head. “If water won’t do, I’m persuaded nothing will, for did not they use, in former days, today all spirits in the Red Sea?”
“Yes,” quoth Short.
“But he ban’t a spirit yet,” replied Smallbones; “he be flesh and blood o’ some sort. If I gets fairly rid of his body, damn his soul, I say; he may keep that and welcome.”
“But then, you know, he’ll haunt us just as much as ever—we shall see him here just the same.”
“A spirit is only a spirit,” observed Smallbones; “he may live in the cabin all day and night afore I care; but, d’ye see, there’s a great difference between the ghost of a dog and the dog himself.”
“Why, if the beast ar’n’t natural, I can’t see much odds,” observed Spurey.
“But I can’t feel ’em,” replied Smallbones. “This here dog has a-bitten me all to bits, but a ghost of a dog can’t bite, anyhow.”
“No,” replied Short.
“And now, d’ye see, as Obadiah Coble has said as how spirits must be laid, I think if we were to come for to go for to lay this here hanimal in the cold hearth, he may perhaps not be able to get up again.”
“That’s only a perhaps,” observed Coble.
“Well, a perhaps is better than nothing at all,” said the lad.
“Yes,” observed Short.
“That depends upon sarcumstances,” observed Spurey. “What sort of a breakfast would you make upon a perhaps?”
“A good one, perhaps,” replied Smallbones, grinning at the jingling of the words.
“Twenty dozen tyfels! Smallbones is in de right,” observed Jansen, who had taken no part in the previous conversation. “Suppose you bury de dog, de dog body not get up again. Suppose he will come, his soul come, leave him body behind him.”
“That’s exactly my notion of the thing,” observed Smallbones.
“Do you mean for to bury him alive?” inquired Spurey.
“Alive! Gott in himmel—no. I knock de brains out first, perry afterwards.”
“There’s some sense in that, corporal.”
“And the dog can’t have much left anyhow, dog or devil, when his brains are all out.”
“No,” quoth Short.
“But who is to do it?”
“Corporal and I,” replied Smallbones; “we be agreed, ban’t we, corporal?”
“Mein Gott, yes!”
“And now I votes that we tries it off-hand; what’s the use of shilly-shally? I made a mortal vow that that ’ere dog and I won’t live together—there ban’t room enough for us two.”
“It’s a wide world, nevertheless,” observed Coble, hitching up his trousers; “howsomever, I have nothing to say, but I wish you, luck; but if you kill that dog, I’m a bishop—that’s all.”
“And if I don’t try for to do so, I am an harchbishop, that’s all,” replied the gallant Smallbones. “Come along, corporal.”
And, here was to be beheld a novel scene. Smallbones followed in obedience by his former persecutor and his superior, officer; a bag of bones—a reed—a lath—a scarecrow; like a pilot cutter ahead of an Indiaman, followed in his wake by Corporal Van Spitter, weighing twenty stone. How could this be? It was human nature. Smallbones took the lead, because he was the more courageous of the two, and the corporal following, proved he tacitly admitted it.
“He be a real bit of stuff, that ’ere Phil Smallbones,” said one of the men.
“I thinks he be a supernatural himself, for my part,” rejoined Spurey.
“At all events, he ar’n’t afeard of him,” said another.
“We shall see,” replied Coble, squirting out his tobacco-juice under the gun.
“Come, men, we must go to work now. Shall we, Mr Short?”
“Yes,” replied the commanding officer; and the conference broke up.
In the meantime the consultation was continued between Smallbones and the corporal. The latter had received instruction to take on shore Mr Vanslyperken’s dirty linen to the washerwoman, and of course, as a corporal, he was not obliged to carry it, and would take Smallbones for that purpose. Then he could easily excuse taking the dog on shore upon the plea of taking care of it. It was therefore so arranged; the dog would follow the corporal in the absence of his master, but no one else. In a few minutes the corporal, Smallbones, Snarleyyow, and a very small bundle of linen, were in the boat, and shoved off with as many good wishes and as much anxiety for their success, as probably Jason and his followers received when they departed in search of the Golden Fleece.
The three parties kept in company, and passed through the town of Portsmouth. The washerwoman lived outside the Lines, and there they proceeded. Snarleyyow very much in spirits at being able to eat the grass, which his health very much required. They walked on until they arrived at a large elm-tree, on the side of the road, which lay between two hedges and ditches.
“This will do,” observed the corporal solemnly. “Mein Gott! I wish it was over,” continued he, wiping the perspiration from his bull-forehead.
“How shall we kill him, corporal?” inquired Smallbones.
“Mein Gott! knock him head against de tree, I suppose.”
“Yes, and bury him in the ditch. Here, dog—Snarleyyow—here, dog,” said Smallbones; “come, a poor doggy—come here.”
But Snarleyyow was not to be coaxed by Smallbones; he suspected treachery.
“He won’t a-come to me, corporal, or I’d soon settle his hash,” observed Smallbones.
The corporal had now got over a little panic which had seized him. He called Snarleyyow, who came immediately. Oh! had he imagined what the corporal was about to do, he might have died like Caesar, exclaiming, “Et tu, Brute?” which in plain English means, “and you—you brute?”
The corporal, with a sort of desperation, laid hold of the dog by the tail, drawing him back till he could swing him round. In a second or two, Snarleyyow was whirling round the corporal, who turned with him, gradually approaching the trunk of the elm-tree, till at last his head came in contact with it with a resounding blow, and the dog fell senseless. “Try it again, corporal, let’s finish him.” The corporal again swung round the inanimate body of the dog; again, and again, and again, did the head come in contact with the hard wood; and then the corporal, quite out of breath with the exertion, dropped the body on the grass. Neither of them spoke a word for some time, but watched the body, as it lay motionless, doubled up, with the fore and hind feet meeting each other, and the one eye closed.
“Well, I’ve a notion that he is done for, any how,” said Smallbones, “at last.”
“Mein Gott, yes!” replied the corporal. “He never get on his legs again, be he tog or be he tyfel.”
“Now for to come for to go for to bury him,” said Smallbones, swinging the dog by the tail, and dragging him towards the ditch. “I wonder if we could get a spade anywhere, corporal.”
“Mein Gott! if we ask for a spade they will ask what for, and Vanslyperken may find it all out.”
“Then I’ll bury him and cover him up, anyhow; he’ll not come to life again; if he does, may I be knocked on the head like him, that’s all.” Smallbones dragged the body into the ditch, and collecting out of the other parts of the ditch a great quantity of wet leaves, covered the body a foot deep. “There, they won’t find him now, because they won’t know where to look for him. I say, corporal, I’ve a notion we had better not be seen here too long.”
“No,” said the corporal, wiping his forehead, putting his handkerchief in his cap, and his cap on his head; “we must go now.”
They went to the washerwoman’s, delivered the bundle, and then returned on board, when the whole crew were informed of the success of the expedition, and appeared quite satisfied that there was an end of the detested cur; all but Coble, who shook his head.
“We shall see,” says he; “but I’m blessed if I don’t expect the cur back to-morrow morning.”
We must now return to Vanslyperken, who left the public house in a state of consternation. “How could she possibly know anything about it?” exclaimed he. “My life in the power of that she-devil!” And Vanslyperken walked on, turning over the affair in his mind. “I have gone too far to retreat now. I must either go on, or fly the country. Fly—where? What a fool have I been!” but then Vanslyperken thought of the money. “No, no, not a fool, but I am very unfortunate.” Vanslyperken continued his route, until it at last occurred to him that he would go to the Jew Lazarus, and speak with him; for, thought Vanslyperken, if all is discovered, they may think that I have informed, and then my life will be sought by both parties. Vanslyperken arrived at the Jew’s abode, knocked softly, but received no answer: he knocked again, louder; a bustle and confusion was heard inside, and at last the door, with the chain fixed, was opened a couple of inches, and the Jew stammered out, “Wot vash there at this late hour of the night?”
“It is me, the lieutenant of the cutter,” replied Vanslyperken. “I must speak with you directly.”
The door was opened, several figures, and the clatter of arms, were heard in the dark passage, and as soon as Vanslyperken had entered it was relocked, and he was left in the dark.
In a minute the Jew, in a woollen wrapper, made his appearance with a light, and led Vanslyperken into the room where he had been shown before. “Now then, Mishter Leeftenant, vat vash de matter?”
“We are discovered, I’m afraid!” exclaimed Vanslyperken.
“Holy father Abraham!” exclaimed the Jew, starting back. “But tell me vy you shay sho.”
“A woman told me this night that she knew why I came to your house—that I was in her power.”
“Vat woman?”
“A hell-cat, who hates me as she does the devil.”
“A hell-cat vould not hate de divil,” slowly observed the Jew.
“Well, perhaps not; but she will ruin me if she can.”
“Vat vash her name?” said Lazarus.
“Moggy Salisbury.”
“Paah! is dat all? vy, my good friend, she is one of us. Dere, you may go vay—you may go to bed, Mr Vanslyperken.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean dat she laughed at you, and frighten you—dat she is one of us, and so is her husband, who was in your chip. Ven you hang, she and I vill all hang together; now you comprehend?”
“Yes,” replied Vanslyperken, “I do now: but how could you trust such people?”
“Trust such people, Mr Vanslyperken! If you prove as true as those people, vy all de bitter; now go avay—go to bed—you have vaked up all the peoples here. Good night, Mr Leeftenant,” and the Jew led the way to the door, and let Vanslyperken out.
“So then,” thought Vanslyperken, as he pursued his way down to the Point, “that woman and her husband are—damnation, but I’ve a great mind to discover all, if it’s only to hang them.” But on second thoughts, Vanslyperken thought that it was not worth while to be hanged himself, just for the pleasure of hanging others. It was a great relief to his mind to know that there was no fear of discovery. The tip of his nose itched, and he rubbed it mechanically; the rubbing brought away all the skin. He remembered the hot poker—the money he had been forced to pay—his being made to sing and to beg pardon on his knees; and he cursed Moggy in his heart, the more so, as he felt that he dared not take any steps against her.
When he came to the Point, he stood on the shingle, looking for his boat, but the men had waited till twelve o’clock, and then, presuming that their commander did not intend to come at all that night, had pulled on board again. He was looking round for a waterman to pull him off, when something cold touched his hand, Vanslyperken started, and almost screamed with fear. He looked and it was the cold nose of Snarleyyow, who now leaped upon his master.
“Snarleyyow, my poor dog how came you on shore?”
But the dog not being able to speak, made no answer.
While Vanslyperken was wondering how the dog could possibly have come on shore, and what Corporal Van Spitter could be about to have allowed it, the small casement of a garret window near him was opened, and a head was thrust out.
“Do you want to go on board, sir?” said a tremulous voice.
“Yes,” replied Vanslyperken.
“I will be down directly, sir,” replied the old boatman, who in a minute or two appeared with his sculls on his shoulder.
“Not easy to find a boat at this time of the morning, sir,” said the man; “but I heard you speaking, for I’ve had such a toothache these two nights that I can’t shut my eyes.”
The old man unlocked the chain which fastened his wherry, and in a few minutes Vanslyperken was on the deck of the cutter, but he found there was no one to receive him—no watch kept.
“Very well,” thought he, “we’ll talk about this to-morrow morning. Short or Coble, I wonder which of the two—pretty neglect of duty indeed—report to the admiral, by heavens!”
So saying, Mr Vanslyperken, with Snarleyyow at his heels, went down into the cabin—undressed in the dark, for he would not let any one know that he was on board. It being about three o’clock in the morning, and Mr Vanslyperken being well tired with the events of the day, he was soon in a sound sleep. There will be no difficulty in accounting for the return of the dog, which had a skull much thicker than even the corporal’s. He had been stunned with the heavy blows, but not killed. After a certain time he came to himself in his bed of leaves, first scratched with one paw, and then with another, till his senses returned: he rose, worked his way out, and lay down to sleep. After he had taken a long nap, he rose recovered, shook himself, and trotted down to the beach, but the boat had shoved off, and the cur had remained there waiting for an opportunity to get on board, when his master came down with the same object in view.
But as every soul is fast asleep, we shall now finish the chapter.
Chapter Thirty Two.Listeners never hear any Good of Themselves.Vanslyperken was awakened three hours after he had fallen asleep by the noise of the buckets washing the decks. He heard the men talking on deck, and aware that no one knew that he was on board, he rose from his bed, and opened one of the sliding sashes of the skylight, that he might overhear the conversation. The first words he heard were from Bill Spurey.“I say, Coble, I wonder what the skipper will say when he comes on board, and finds that the dog is gone?”“Hoh! hoh!” thought Vanslyperken.“I ar’n’t convinced that he is gone yet,” replied Coble.“Smallbones swears that he’s settled this time,” replied Spurey.“So he did before,” replied Coble.“Smallbones again,” thought Vanslyperken. “I’ll—Smallbones him, if I hang for it.”“Why, he says he buried him two feet deep.”“Ay, ay; but what’s the use of burying an animal who’s not a human creature? For my part I say this, that the imp belongs to his master, and is bound to serve him as long as his master lives. When he dies, the dog may be killed, and then—”“Then what?”“Why, with the blessing of God, they’ll both go to hell together, and I don’t care how soon.”“Kill me, you old villain!” muttered Vanslyperken, grinding his teeth.“Well, any how, if the dog be not made away with, no more be Smallbones. He ar’n’t afeard of the devil himself.”“No, not he; I’m of opinion Smallbones wa’n’t sent here for nothing.”“He’s escaped him twice, at all events.”“Then they know it,” thought Vanslyperken, turning pale.“Ay, and I will take you any bet you please, that the skipper never takes that boy’s life. He’s charmed, or I am a gudgeon.”Vanslyperken felt that it was his own suspicion, and he trembled at the idea of the lad being supernatural.“Out of the way, Coble, or I’ll fill your shoes,” cried out one of the men, slashing a bucket of water.“That’s not quite so easy, ’cause I’ve got boots on,” replied Coble. “However, I’ll take up another berth.”The men walked away, and Vanslyperken could hear no more; but he had heard quite enough. The life of the dog had been attempted by Smallbones, it was evident. Mr Vanslyperken, after a little agitation, rang the bell.“By all that’s blue, the skipper’s on board!” exclaimed the men on deck.“When the devil did he come?”“Not in my watch, at all events,” replied Coble. “Did he come in yours, Short?”“No,” replied Short.“Then it must have been in the corporal’s.”“The corporal never called me, nor was he on deck,” replied Coble. “I’ve a notion he never kept his watch.”The ring at the bell particularly concerned two people, the two culprits, Smallbones and Corporal Van Spitter.The latter made his appearance; but previous to his answering the bell, Mr Vanslyperken had time to reflect. “So they think my dog is supernatural,” said he; “so much the better. I’ll make them believe it still more.” Mr Vanslyperken called the dog, and pointed to his bed. The dog, who was fond of a warm berth, and but seldom allowed to get on the bed, immediately jumped up into it when invited, and Mr Vanslyperken patted him, and covered him up with the bedclothes. He then drew the curtains of the bed, and waited to see who would answer the bell. Corporal Van Spitter made his appearance.“Corporal, I came on board very late, where have you put the dog? Bring him into the cabin.”Here the corporal, who was prepared, shook his head, smoothed down the hair of his forehead, and made a very melancholy face.“It was all my fault, Mynheer Vanslyperken; yet I do for the best, but te tog be lost.”“How is that, corporal?”The corporal then stated that he had taken the precaution to take the dog on shore, as he was afraid to leave it on board when he went to the washerwoman’s, and that he was not long there, but while he was, the dog disappeared. He had looked everywhere, but could not find it.“You took Smallbones with you?” said Vanslyperken.“Yes, mynheer, to carry de linen.”“And where was he when you were at the washer-woman’s.”“He was here and dere.”“I know that it was he who killed and buried the dog, corporal.”Corporal Van Spitter started; he thought he was discovered.“Kilt and perryed! mein Gott!” said the corporal, obliged to say something.“Yes, I overheard the men say so on deck, corporal. He must have taken the opportunity when you were in the house counting the linen.”Now the corporal had time to recover himself, and he argued that any thing was better than that he should be suspected. Smallbones was already known to have attempted the life of the dog, so he would leave the lieutenant in his error.“Mein Gott! he is von damned kill-dog feller,” observed the corporal. “I look everywhere, I no find te tog. Den de tog is dead?”“Yes,” replied Vanslyperken, “but I’ll punish the scoundrel, depend upon it. That will do, corporal; you may go.”As Snarleyyow remained perfectly quiet during this conversation, we must give Vanslyperken great credit for his manoeuvre. The corporal went to Smallbones, and repeated what had passed. Smallbones snapped his fingers.“He may keel-haul, or hang me, for all I care. The dog is dead. Never fear, corporal, I won’t peach upon you. I’m game, and I’ll die so—if so be I must.”Vanslyperken sent for Smallbones. Smallbones, who was worked up to the highest state of excitement, came in boldly.“So you villain, you’ve killed my dog, and buried it.”“No, I ar’n’t,” replied Smallbones. “I knows nothing about your dog, sir.”“Why, the men on deck said so, you scoundrel—I heard them.”“I don’t care what the men say; I never killed your dog, sir.”“You rascal, I’ll have your life!” exclaimed Vanslyperken. Smallbones grinned diabolically, and Vanslyperken, who remembered all that the men had said in confirmation of his own opinion relative to Smallbones, turned pale, Smallbones, on his part, aware from Corporal Van Spitter that the lieutenant had such an idea, immediately took advantage of the signs in the lieutenant’s countenance, and drawled out,—“That’s—not—so—easy!”Vanslyperken turned away. “You may go now, sir, but depend upon it you shall feel my vengeance!” and Smallbones quitted the cabin.Vanslyperken finished his toilet, and then turned the dog out of the bed.He went on deck, and after he had walked a little while sent for Corporal Van Spitter to consult as to the best method of ascertaining what had become of Snarleyyow. Having entered apparently very earnestly into the corporal’s arrangements, who was to go on shore immediately, he desired the corporal to see his breakfast got ready in the cabin.It so happened, that the corporal went into the cabin, followed by Smallbones: the first object that met his view, was Snarleyyow, sitting upon the chest, scratching his ragged ear as if nothing had happened.“Gott in himmel!” roared the corporal, turning back, and running out of the cabin, upsetting Smallbones, whom he met in the passage, and trotting, like an elephant, right over him. Nor was Smallbones the only one who suffered; two marines and three seamen were successively floored by the corporal, who, blinded with fear, never stopped till he ran his head butt against the lining in the fore peak of the cutter, which, with the timbers of the vessel, brought him up, not all standing, in one sense of the word, for in his mad career his head was dashed so violently against them, that the poor corporal fell down, stunned to insensibility.In the meantime Smallbones had gained his feet, and was rubbing his ribs, to ascertain if they were all whole. “Well, I’m sure,” said he, “if I ain’t flattened for all the world like a pancake, with that ’ere corporal’s weight. One may as well have a broad-wheel waggon at once go over one’s body; but what could make him come for to go to run away bellowing in that odd manner? He must have seen the devil; or, perhaps,” thought Smallbones, “that imp of the devil, Snarleyyow. I’ll go and see what it was, anyhow.”Smallbones, rubbing his abdomen, where the corporal had trod hardest, walked into the cabin, where he beheld the dog. He stood with his mouth wide open.“I defy the devil and all his works,” exclaimed he, at last, “and you be one of his, that’s sartin. I fear God, and I honour the king, and the parish taught me to read the Bible. There you be resurrectioned up again. Well, it’s no use, I suppose. Satan, I defy you, anyhow; but it’s very hard that a good Christian should have to get the breakfast ready, of which you’ll eat one half: I don’t see why I’m to wait upon the devil or his imps.”Then Smallbones stopped, and thought a little. “I wonder whether he bee’d dead, as I thought. Master came on board last night without no one knowing nothing about it, and he might have brought the dog with him, if so be he came to again. I won’t believe that he’s haltogether not to be made away with, for how come his eye out? Well, I don’t care, I’m a good Christian, and may I be swamped if I don’t try what he’s made of yet! First time we cut’s up beef, I’ll try and chop your tail, anyhow, that I will, if I am hung for it.”Smallbones regained his determination. He set about laying the things for breakfast, and when they were ready he went up to the quarter-deck, reporting the same to Mr Vanslyperken, who had expected to see him frightened out of his wits, and concluding his speech by saying, “If you please, sir, the dog be in the cabin, all right; I said as how I never kilt your dog, nor buried him neither.”“The dog in the cabin!” exclaimed Mr Vanslyperken, with apparent astonishment. “Why, how the devil could he have come there?”“He cummed off, I suppose, sir, same way as you did, without nobody knowing nothing about it,” drawled out Smallbones, who then walked away.In the meantime the corporal had been picked up, and the men were attempting to recover him. Smallbones went forward to see what had become of him, and learnt how it was that he was insensible.“Well, then,” thought Smallbones, “it may have been all the same with the dog, and I believe there’s humbug in it; for if the dog had made his appearance, as master pretends he did, all of a sudden, he’d a been more frightened than me.”So reasoned Smallbones, and he reasoned well. In the meantime the corporal opened his eyes, and gradually returned to his senses, and then, for the first time, the ship’s company, who were all down at their breakfast, demanded of Smallbones the reason of the corporal’s conduct.“Why,” replied Smallbones, “because that ’ere beast, Snarleyyow, be come back again, all alive, a’ter being dead and buried—he’s in the cabin now—that’s all.”“That’s all!” exclaimed one. “All!” cried another. “The devil!” said a third.“I said as how it would be,” said Obadiah Coble—“that dog is no dog, as sure as I sit here.”The return of the dog certainly had a strong effect upon the whole of the ship’s company. The corporal swore that he was not in the cabin, and that Mr Vanslyperken had arranged for his going on shore to look for him, when all of a sudden the dog made his appearance, no one knew how. Smallbones found himself so much in the minority, that he said nothing. It was perfect heresy not to believe that the dog was sent from the lower regions; and as for any further attempts to destroy it, it was considered as perfect insanity.But this renewed attempt on the part of Smallbones, for Vanslyperken was convinced that an attempt had been made, although it had not been successful, again excited the feelings of Mr Vanslyperken against the lad, and he resolved somehow or another to retaliate. His anger overcame his awe, and he was reckless in his desire of vengeance. There was not the least suspicion of treachery on the part of Corporal Van Spitter in the heart of Mr Vanslyperken, and the corporal played his double part so well, that, if possible, he was now higher in favour than ever.After a day or two, during which Mr Vanslyperken remained on board, he sent for the corporal, determining to sound him as to whether he would make any attempts upon Smallbones; for to such a height had Vanslyperken’s enmity arrived, that he now resolved to part with some of his darling money, to tempt the corporal, rather than not get rid of the lad. After many hints thrown out, but not taken by the wily corporal, who was resolved that Vanslyperken should speak plainly, the deed and the reward of ten guineas were openly proclaimed, and Vanslyperken waited for the corporal’s reply.“Mein Gott, Mynheer Vanslyperken! suppose it was possible, I not take your money, I do it wid pleasure; but, sir, it not possible.”“Not possible!” exclaimed Vanslyperken.“No, mynheer,” replied the corporal; “I not tell you all, tousand tyfils, I not tell you all;” and here the corporal put his hand to his forehead and was silent, much to Vanslyperken’s amazement. But the fact was, that Corporal Van Spitter was thinking what he possibly could say. At last, a brilliant thought struck him—he narrated to the lieutenant how he had seen the ghost of Smallbones, as he thought, when he was floating about, adrift on the Zuyder Zee—described with great force his horror at the time of the appearance of the supernatural object, and tailed on to what he believed to be true, that which he knew to be false, to wit, that the apparition had cried out to him, that “he was not to be hurt by mortal men.”“Gott in himmel,” finished the corporal, “I never was so frightened in my life. I see him now, as plain as I see you, mynheer. Twenty tousand tyfils, but the voice was like de tunder—and his eye like de lightning—I fell back in one swoon. Ah, mein Gott, mein Gott!”So well did the corporal play his part, that Vanslyperken became quite terrified; the candle appeared to burn dim, and he dared not move to snuff it. He could not but credit the corporal, for there was an earnestness of description, and a vividness of colouring, which could not have been invented; besides, was not the corporal his earnest and only friend? “Corporal,” said Vanslyperken, “perhaps you’ll like a glass of scheedam; there’s some in the cupboard.”This was very kind of Mr Vanslyperken, but he wanted one himself, much more than the corporal. The corporal produced the bottle and the glass, poured it out, made his military salute, and tossed it off.“Give me another glass, corporal,” said Vanslyperken, in a tremulous tone. The lieutenant took one, two, three glasses, one after another, to recover himself.The corporal had really frightened him. He was convinced that Smallbones had a charmed life. Did he not float to the Nab buoy and back again?—did not a pistol ball pass through him without injury? Vanslyperken shuddered; he took a fresh glass, and then handed the bottle to the corporal, who helped himself, saluted, and the liquor again disappeared in a moment.Dutch courage is proverbial, although a libel upon one of the bravest of nations. Vanslyperken now felt it, and again he commenced with the corporal. “What were the words?” inquired he.“Dat he was not to be hurt by mortal man, mynheer. I can take mine piple oath of it,” replied the corporal.“Damnation!” cried Vanslyperken; “but stop—mortal man—perhaps he may be hurt by woman.”“Dat is quite anoder ting, mynheer.”“He shan’t escape if I can help it,” retorted Vanslyperken. “I must think about it.” Vanslyperken poured out another glass of scheedam, and pushed the stone bottle to the corporal, who helped himself without ceremony. Mr Vanslyperken was now about two thirds drunk, for he was not used to such a quantity of spirits.“Now, if I had only been friends with that—that—hell fire Moggy Salisbury,” thought Vanslyperken, speaking aloud to himself.“Mein Gott, yes, mynheer,” replied the corporal.Vanslyperken took another glass—spilling a great deal on the table as he poured it out; he then covered his eyes with his hand, as if in thought. Thereupon the corporal filled without being asked; and, as he perceived that his superior remained in the same position, and did not observe him, he helped himself to a second glass, and then waited till Vanslyperken should speak again; but the liquor had overpowered him, and he spoke no more.The corporal, after a few minutes, went up to his superior; he touched him on the shoulder, saying, “Mynheer,” but he obtained no reply. On the contrary, the slight touch made Mr Vanslyperken fall forward on the table. He was quite insensible.So the corporal took him up in his arms, laid him in his bed, then taking possession of the lieutenant’s chair, for he was tired of standing so long, he set to work to empty the bottle, which, being large and full at the time that it was produced from the cupboard, took some time, and before it was accomplished, the Corporal Van Spitter had fallen fast asleep in the chair. Shortly afterwards the candle burnt out, and the cabin was in darkness.It was about three o’clock in the morning when Mr Vanslyperken began to recover his senses, and as his recollection returned, so were his ears met with a stupendous roaring and unusual noise. It was, to his imagination, unearthly, for he had been troubled with wild dreams about Smallbones, and his appearance to the corporal. It sounded like thunder, and Mr Vanslyperken thought that he could plainly make out, “Mortal man! Mortal man!” and, at times, the other words of the supernatural intimation to the corporal. The mortal man was drawn out in lengthened cadence, and in a manner truly horrible. Vanslyperken called out, “Mor—tal—man,” was the reply.Again Vanslyperken almost shrieked in a perspiration of fear. The sound now ceased; but it was followed up by a noise like the rattling of glasses, tumbling about of the chairs and table, and Vanslyperken buried his face under the clothes. Then the door, which had been shut, was heard by him to slam like thunder; and then Snarleyyow barked loud and deep. “Oh! God forgive me!” cried the terrified lieutenant. “Our Father—which art in heaven—save me—save me!”Shortly afterwards the corporal made his appearance with a light, and inquired if Mr Vanslyperken had called. He found him reeking with perspiration, and half dead with fear. In broken words he stated how he had been visited, and how the same intimation that no mortal man could hurt Smallbones had been rung into his ears.“It was only one dream, Mynheer Vanslyperken,” observed the corporal.“No—it was no dream,” replied Vanslyperken. “Stay in the cabin, good corporal.”“Yes, mynheer,” replied the corporal, drawing the curtains of the bed; and then quietly picking up the various articles on the floor, the table and chairs which had been overturned.Alas! fear is the mate of guilt. All this horrible visitation was simply that Mr Vanslyperken had heard the corporal’s tremendous snoring, as he slept in the chair, and which his imagination had turned into the words, “Mortal man.” The first exclamation of Mr Vanslyperken had awoke the corporal, who, aware of the impropriety of his situation, had attempted to retreat; in so doing he had overturned the table and chairs, with the bottles and glasses upon them.Fearful of discovery upon this unexpected noise, he had hastened out of the cabin, slammed the door, and waked up Snarleyyow; but he knew, from the exclamations of Vanslyperken, that the lieutenant was frightened out of his wits: so he very boldly returned with a candle to ascertain the result of the disturbance, and was delighted to find that the lieutenant was still under the delusion.So soon as he had replaced everything, the corporal took a chair, and finding that he had fortunately put the cork into the stone bottle before he fell asleep, and that there was still one or two glasses in it, he drank them off, and waited patiently for daylight. By this time Vanslyperken was again asleep and snoring; so the corporal took away all the broken fragments, put the things in order, and left the cabin.When Vanslyperken awoke and rang his bell, Smallbones entered. Vanslyperken got up, and finding the cabin as it was left the night before, was more than ever persuaded that he had been supernaturally visited. Fear made him quite civil to the lad, whose life he now considered, as the ship’s company did that of the dog’s, it was quite useless for him, at least, to attempt, and thus ends this chapter of horrors.
Vanslyperken was awakened three hours after he had fallen asleep by the noise of the buckets washing the decks. He heard the men talking on deck, and aware that no one knew that he was on board, he rose from his bed, and opened one of the sliding sashes of the skylight, that he might overhear the conversation. The first words he heard were from Bill Spurey.
“I say, Coble, I wonder what the skipper will say when he comes on board, and finds that the dog is gone?”
“Hoh! hoh!” thought Vanslyperken.
“I ar’n’t convinced that he is gone yet,” replied Coble.
“Smallbones swears that he’s settled this time,” replied Spurey.
“So he did before,” replied Coble.
“Smallbones again,” thought Vanslyperken. “I’ll—Smallbones him, if I hang for it.”
“Why, he says he buried him two feet deep.”
“Ay, ay; but what’s the use of burying an animal who’s not a human creature? For my part I say this, that the imp belongs to his master, and is bound to serve him as long as his master lives. When he dies, the dog may be killed, and then—”
“Then what?”
“Why, with the blessing of God, they’ll both go to hell together, and I don’t care how soon.”
“Kill me, you old villain!” muttered Vanslyperken, grinding his teeth.
“Well, any how, if the dog be not made away with, no more be Smallbones. He ar’n’t afeard of the devil himself.”
“No, not he; I’m of opinion Smallbones wa’n’t sent here for nothing.”
“He’s escaped him twice, at all events.”
“Then they know it,” thought Vanslyperken, turning pale.
“Ay, and I will take you any bet you please, that the skipper never takes that boy’s life. He’s charmed, or I am a gudgeon.”
Vanslyperken felt that it was his own suspicion, and he trembled at the idea of the lad being supernatural.
“Out of the way, Coble, or I’ll fill your shoes,” cried out one of the men, slashing a bucket of water.
“That’s not quite so easy, ’cause I’ve got boots on,” replied Coble. “However, I’ll take up another berth.”
The men walked away, and Vanslyperken could hear no more; but he had heard quite enough. The life of the dog had been attempted by Smallbones, it was evident. Mr Vanslyperken, after a little agitation, rang the bell.
“By all that’s blue, the skipper’s on board!” exclaimed the men on deck.
“When the devil did he come?”
“Not in my watch, at all events,” replied Coble. “Did he come in yours, Short?”
“No,” replied Short.
“Then it must have been in the corporal’s.”
“The corporal never called me, nor was he on deck,” replied Coble. “I’ve a notion he never kept his watch.”
The ring at the bell particularly concerned two people, the two culprits, Smallbones and Corporal Van Spitter.
The latter made his appearance; but previous to his answering the bell, Mr Vanslyperken had time to reflect. “So they think my dog is supernatural,” said he; “so much the better. I’ll make them believe it still more.” Mr Vanslyperken called the dog, and pointed to his bed. The dog, who was fond of a warm berth, and but seldom allowed to get on the bed, immediately jumped up into it when invited, and Mr Vanslyperken patted him, and covered him up with the bedclothes. He then drew the curtains of the bed, and waited to see who would answer the bell. Corporal Van Spitter made his appearance.
“Corporal, I came on board very late, where have you put the dog? Bring him into the cabin.”
Here the corporal, who was prepared, shook his head, smoothed down the hair of his forehead, and made a very melancholy face.
“It was all my fault, Mynheer Vanslyperken; yet I do for the best, but te tog be lost.”
“How is that, corporal?”
The corporal then stated that he had taken the precaution to take the dog on shore, as he was afraid to leave it on board when he went to the washerwoman’s, and that he was not long there, but while he was, the dog disappeared. He had looked everywhere, but could not find it.
“You took Smallbones with you?” said Vanslyperken.
“Yes, mynheer, to carry de linen.”
“And where was he when you were at the washer-woman’s.”
“He was here and dere.”
“I know that it was he who killed and buried the dog, corporal.”
Corporal Van Spitter started; he thought he was discovered.
“Kilt and perryed! mein Gott!” said the corporal, obliged to say something.
“Yes, I overheard the men say so on deck, corporal. He must have taken the opportunity when you were in the house counting the linen.”
Now the corporal had time to recover himself, and he argued that any thing was better than that he should be suspected. Smallbones was already known to have attempted the life of the dog, so he would leave the lieutenant in his error.
“Mein Gott! he is von damned kill-dog feller,” observed the corporal. “I look everywhere, I no find te tog. Den de tog is dead?”
“Yes,” replied Vanslyperken, “but I’ll punish the scoundrel, depend upon it. That will do, corporal; you may go.”
As Snarleyyow remained perfectly quiet during this conversation, we must give Vanslyperken great credit for his manoeuvre. The corporal went to Smallbones, and repeated what had passed. Smallbones snapped his fingers.
“He may keel-haul, or hang me, for all I care. The dog is dead. Never fear, corporal, I won’t peach upon you. I’m game, and I’ll die so—if so be I must.”
Vanslyperken sent for Smallbones. Smallbones, who was worked up to the highest state of excitement, came in boldly.
“So you villain, you’ve killed my dog, and buried it.”
“No, I ar’n’t,” replied Smallbones. “I knows nothing about your dog, sir.”
“Why, the men on deck said so, you scoundrel—I heard them.”
“I don’t care what the men say; I never killed your dog, sir.”
“You rascal, I’ll have your life!” exclaimed Vanslyperken. Smallbones grinned diabolically, and Vanslyperken, who remembered all that the men had said in confirmation of his own opinion relative to Smallbones, turned pale, Smallbones, on his part, aware from Corporal Van Spitter that the lieutenant had such an idea, immediately took advantage of the signs in the lieutenant’s countenance, and drawled out,—“That’s—not—so—easy!”
Vanslyperken turned away. “You may go now, sir, but depend upon it you shall feel my vengeance!” and Smallbones quitted the cabin.
Vanslyperken finished his toilet, and then turned the dog out of the bed.
He went on deck, and after he had walked a little while sent for Corporal Van Spitter to consult as to the best method of ascertaining what had become of Snarleyyow. Having entered apparently very earnestly into the corporal’s arrangements, who was to go on shore immediately, he desired the corporal to see his breakfast got ready in the cabin.
It so happened, that the corporal went into the cabin, followed by Smallbones: the first object that met his view, was Snarleyyow, sitting upon the chest, scratching his ragged ear as if nothing had happened.
“Gott in himmel!” roared the corporal, turning back, and running out of the cabin, upsetting Smallbones, whom he met in the passage, and trotting, like an elephant, right over him. Nor was Smallbones the only one who suffered; two marines and three seamen were successively floored by the corporal, who, blinded with fear, never stopped till he ran his head butt against the lining in the fore peak of the cutter, which, with the timbers of the vessel, brought him up, not all standing, in one sense of the word, for in his mad career his head was dashed so violently against them, that the poor corporal fell down, stunned to insensibility.
In the meantime Smallbones had gained his feet, and was rubbing his ribs, to ascertain if they were all whole. “Well, I’m sure,” said he, “if I ain’t flattened for all the world like a pancake, with that ’ere corporal’s weight. One may as well have a broad-wheel waggon at once go over one’s body; but what could make him come for to go to run away bellowing in that odd manner? He must have seen the devil; or, perhaps,” thought Smallbones, “that imp of the devil, Snarleyyow. I’ll go and see what it was, anyhow.”
Smallbones, rubbing his abdomen, where the corporal had trod hardest, walked into the cabin, where he beheld the dog. He stood with his mouth wide open.
“I defy the devil and all his works,” exclaimed he, at last, “and you be one of his, that’s sartin. I fear God, and I honour the king, and the parish taught me to read the Bible. There you be resurrectioned up again. Well, it’s no use, I suppose. Satan, I defy you, anyhow; but it’s very hard that a good Christian should have to get the breakfast ready, of which you’ll eat one half: I don’t see why I’m to wait upon the devil or his imps.”
Then Smallbones stopped, and thought a little. “I wonder whether he bee’d dead, as I thought. Master came on board last night without no one knowing nothing about it, and he might have brought the dog with him, if so be he came to again. I won’t believe that he’s haltogether not to be made away with, for how come his eye out? Well, I don’t care, I’m a good Christian, and may I be swamped if I don’t try what he’s made of yet! First time we cut’s up beef, I’ll try and chop your tail, anyhow, that I will, if I am hung for it.”
Smallbones regained his determination. He set about laying the things for breakfast, and when they were ready he went up to the quarter-deck, reporting the same to Mr Vanslyperken, who had expected to see him frightened out of his wits, and concluding his speech by saying, “If you please, sir, the dog be in the cabin, all right; I said as how I never kilt your dog, nor buried him neither.”
“The dog in the cabin!” exclaimed Mr Vanslyperken, with apparent astonishment. “Why, how the devil could he have come there?”
“He cummed off, I suppose, sir, same way as you did, without nobody knowing nothing about it,” drawled out Smallbones, who then walked away.
In the meantime the corporal had been picked up, and the men were attempting to recover him. Smallbones went forward to see what had become of him, and learnt how it was that he was insensible.
“Well, then,” thought Smallbones, “it may have been all the same with the dog, and I believe there’s humbug in it; for if the dog had made his appearance, as master pretends he did, all of a sudden, he’d a been more frightened than me.”
So reasoned Smallbones, and he reasoned well. In the meantime the corporal opened his eyes, and gradually returned to his senses, and then, for the first time, the ship’s company, who were all down at their breakfast, demanded of Smallbones the reason of the corporal’s conduct.
“Why,” replied Smallbones, “because that ’ere beast, Snarleyyow, be come back again, all alive, a’ter being dead and buried—he’s in the cabin now—that’s all.”
“That’s all!” exclaimed one. “All!” cried another. “The devil!” said a third.
“I said as how it would be,” said Obadiah Coble—“that dog is no dog, as sure as I sit here.”
The return of the dog certainly had a strong effect upon the whole of the ship’s company. The corporal swore that he was not in the cabin, and that Mr Vanslyperken had arranged for his going on shore to look for him, when all of a sudden the dog made his appearance, no one knew how. Smallbones found himself so much in the minority, that he said nothing. It was perfect heresy not to believe that the dog was sent from the lower regions; and as for any further attempts to destroy it, it was considered as perfect insanity.
But this renewed attempt on the part of Smallbones, for Vanslyperken was convinced that an attempt had been made, although it had not been successful, again excited the feelings of Mr Vanslyperken against the lad, and he resolved somehow or another to retaliate. His anger overcame his awe, and he was reckless in his desire of vengeance. There was not the least suspicion of treachery on the part of Corporal Van Spitter in the heart of Mr Vanslyperken, and the corporal played his double part so well, that, if possible, he was now higher in favour than ever.
After a day or two, during which Mr Vanslyperken remained on board, he sent for the corporal, determining to sound him as to whether he would make any attempts upon Smallbones; for to such a height had Vanslyperken’s enmity arrived, that he now resolved to part with some of his darling money, to tempt the corporal, rather than not get rid of the lad. After many hints thrown out, but not taken by the wily corporal, who was resolved that Vanslyperken should speak plainly, the deed and the reward of ten guineas were openly proclaimed, and Vanslyperken waited for the corporal’s reply.
“Mein Gott, Mynheer Vanslyperken! suppose it was possible, I not take your money, I do it wid pleasure; but, sir, it not possible.”
“Not possible!” exclaimed Vanslyperken.
“No, mynheer,” replied the corporal; “I not tell you all, tousand tyfils, I not tell you all;” and here the corporal put his hand to his forehead and was silent, much to Vanslyperken’s amazement. But the fact was, that Corporal Van Spitter was thinking what he possibly could say. At last, a brilliant thought struck him—he narrated to the lieutenant how he had seen the ghost of Smallbones, as he thought, when he was floating about, adrift on the Zuyder Zee—described with great force his horror at the time of the appearance of the supernatural object, and tailed on to what he believed to be true, that which he knew to be false, to wit, that the apparition had cried out to him, that “he was not to be hurt by mortal men.”
“Gott in himmel,” finished the corporal, “I never was so frightened in my life. I see him now, as plain as I see you, mynheer. Twenty tousand tyfils, but the voice was like de tunder—and his eye like de lightning—I fell back in one swoon. Ah, mein Gott, mein Gott!”
So well did the corporal play his part, that Vanslyperken became quite terrified; the candle appeared to burn dim, and he dared not move to snuff it. He could not but credit the corporal, for there was an earnestness of description, and a vividness of colouring, which could not have been invented; besides, was not the corporal his earnest and only friend? “Corporal,” said Vanslyperken, “perhaps you’ll like a glass of scheedam; there’s some in the cupboard.”
This was very kind of Mr Vanslyperken, but he wanted one himself, much more than the corporal. The corporal produced the bottle and the glass, poured it out, made his military salute, and tossed it off.
“Give me another glass, corporal,” said Vanslyperken, in a tremulous tone. The lieutenant took one, two, three glasses, one after another, to recover himself.
The corporal had really frightened him. He was convinced that Smallbones had a charmed life. Did he not float to the Nab buoy and back again?—did not a pistol ball pass through him without injury? Vanslyperken shuddered; he took a fresh glass, and then handed the bottle to the corporal, who helped himself, saluted, and the liquor again disappeared in a moment.
Dutch courage is proverbial, although a libel upon one of the bravest of nations. Vanslyperken now felt it, and again he commenced with the corporal. “What were the words?” inquired he.
“Dat he was not to be hurt by mortal man, mynheer. I can take mine piple oath of it,” replied the corporal.
“Damnation!” cried Vanslyperken; “but stop—mortal man—perhaps he may be hurt by woman.”
“Dat is quite anoder ting, mynheer.”
“He shan’t escape if I can help it,” retorted Vanslyperken. “I must think about it.” Vanslyperken poured out another glass of scheedam, and pushed the stone bottle to the corporal, who helped himself without ceremony. Mr Vanslyperken was now about two thirds drunk, for he was not used to such a quantity of spirits.
“Now, if I had only been friends with that—that—hell fire Moggy Salisbury,” thought Vanslyperken, speaking aloud to himself.
“Mein Gott, yes, mynheer,” replied the corporal.
Vanslyperken took another glass—spilling a great deal on the table as he poured it out; he then covered his eyes with his hand, as if in thought. Thereupon the corporal filled without being asked; and, as he perceived that his superior remained in the same position, and did not observe him, he helped himself to a second glass, and then waited till Vanslyperken should speak again; but the liquor had overpowered him, and he spoke no more.
The corporal, after a few minutes, went up to his superior; he touched him on the shoulder, saying, “Mynheer,” but he obtained no reply. On the contrary, the slight touch made Mr Vanslyperken fall forward on the table. He was quite insensible.
So the corporal took him up in his arms, laid him in his bed, then taking possession of the lieutenant’s chair, for he was tired of standing so long, he set to work to empty the bottle, which, being large and full at the time that it was produced from the cupboard, took some time, and before it was accomplished, the Corporal Van Spitter had fallen fast asleep in the chair. Shortly afterwards the candle burnt out, and the cabin was in darkness.
It was about three o’clock in the morning when Mr Vanslyperken began to recover his senses, and as his recollection returned, so were his ears met with a stupendous roaring and unusual noise. It was, to his imagination, unearthly, for he had been troubled with wild dreams about Smallbones, and his appearance to the corporal. It sounded like thunder, and Mr Vanslyperken thought that he could plainly make out, “Mortal man! Mortal man!” and, at times, the other words of the supernatural intimation to the corporal. The mortal man was drawn out in lengthened cadence, and in a manner truly horrible. Vanslyperken called out, “Mor—tal—man,” was the reply.
Again Vanslyperken almost shrieked in a perspiration of fear. The sound now ceased; but it was followed up by a noise like the rattling of glasses, tumbling about of the chairs and table, and Vanslyperken buried his face under the clothes. Then the door, which had been shut, was heard by him to slam like thunder; and then Snarleyyow barked loud and deep. “Oh! God forgive me!” cried the terrified lieutenant. “Our Father—which art in heaven—save me—save me!”
Shortly afterwards the corporal made his appearance with a light, and inquired if Mr Vanslyperken had called. He found him reeking with perspiration, and half dead with fear. In broken words he stated how he had been visited, and how the same intimation that no mortal man could hurt Smallbones had been rung into his ears.
“It was only one dream, Mynheer Vanslyperken,” observed the corporal.
“No—it was no dream,” replied Vanslyperken. “Stay in the cabin, good corporal.”
“Yes, mynheer,” replied the corporal, drawing the curtains of the bed; and then quietly picking up the various articles on the floor, the table and chairs which had been overturned.
Alas! fear is the mate of guilt. All this horrible visitation was simply that Mr Vanslyperken had heard the corporal’s tremendous snoring, as he slept in the chair, and which his imagination had turned into the words, “Mortal man.” The first exclamation of Mr Vanslyperken had awoke the corporal, who, aware of the impropriety of his situation, had attempted to retreat; in so doing he had overturned the table and chairs, with the bottles and glasses upon them.
Fearful of discovery upon this unexpected noise, he had hastened out of the cabin, slammed the door, and waked up Snarleyyow; but he knew, from the exclamations of Vanslyperken, that the lieutenant was frightened out of his wits: so he very boldly returned with a candle to ascertain the result of the disturbance, and was delighted to find that the lieutenant was still under the delusion.
So soon as he had replaced everything, the corporal took a chair, and finding that he had fortunately put the cork into the stone bottle before he fell asleep, and that there was still one or two glasses in it, he drank them off, and waited patiently for daylight. By this time Vanslyperken was again asleep and snoring; so the corporal took away all the broken fragments, put the things in order, and left the cabin.
When Vanslyperken awoke and rang his bell, Smallbones entered. Vanslyperken got up, and finding the cabin as it was left the night before, was more than ever persuaded that he had been supernaturally visited. Fear made him quite civil to the lad, whose life he now considered, as the ship’s company did that of the dog’s, it was quite useless for him, at least, to attempt, and thus ends this chapter of horrors.
Chapter Thirty Three.In which there is nothing very Particular or very Interesting.We must now change the scene for a short time, and introduce to our readers a company assembled in the best inn which, at that time, was to be found in the town of Cherbourg. The room in which they were assembled was large in dimensions, but with a low ceiling—the windows were diminutive, and gave but a subdued light, on account of the vicinity of the houses opposite. The window-frames were small, and cut diamond-wise; and in the centre of each of the panes was a round of coarsely-painted glass. A narrow table ran nearly the length of the room, and, at each end of it there was a large chimney, in both of which logs of wood were burning cheerfully. What are now termedchaises longues, were drawn to the sides of the table, or leaning against the walls of the room, which were without ornament, and neatly coloured with yellow ochre.The company assembled might have been about thirty in number, of which half-a-dozen, perhaps, were in the ecclesiastical dress of the time; while the others wore the habiliments then appropriated to cavaliers or gentlemen, with very little difference from those as worn in the times of the Charleses in England, except that the cloak had been discarded, and the more substantial roquelaure substituted in its place. Most of the party were men who had not yet arrived to middle age, if we except the clericals, who were much more advanced in life; and any one, who had ever fallen in with the smuggling lugger and its crew, would have had no difficulty in recognising many of them, in the well-attired and evidently high-born and well-educated young men who were seated or standing in the room. Among them Sir Robert Barclay was eminently conspicuous; he was standing by the fire conversing with two of the ecclesiastics.“Gentlemen,” said he at last, “our worthy Father Lovell has just arrived from St. Germain; and, as the most rapid communication is now necessary, he is empowered to open here and before us every despatch which we bring over, before it is transmitted to head-quarters, with permission to act as may seem best to the friends of his majesty here assembled.”The fact was, that King James had lately completely given himself up to religious exercises and mortification, and any communication to him was attended with so much delay, that it had been considered advisable to act without consulting him; and to avoid the delay consequent on the transmission of communications to Paris, the most active parties had determined that they would, for the present, take up their residence at Cherbourg, and merely transmit to their friends at St. Germain an account of their proceedings, gaining, at least, a week by this arrangement. Thee party assembled had many names of some note. Among the ecclesiastics were Lovell, Collier, Snatt, and Cooke; among the cavaliers were those of Musgrave, Friend, and Perkins, whose relatives had suffered in the cause; Smith, Clancey, Herbert, Cunningham, Leslie, and many others.When Sir Robert Barclay approached the table, the others took their seats in silence.“Gentlemen,” said Sir Robert, laying down the despatches, which had been opened, “you must be aware that our affairs now wear a very prosperous appearance. Supported as we are by many in the Government of England, and by mere in the House of Commons, with so many adherents here to our cause, we have every rational prospect of success. During the first three months of this year much has been done; and, at the same time, it must be confessed that the usurper and the heretics have taken every step in their power to assail and to crush us. By this despatch, now in my hand, it appears that a Bill has passed the Commons, by which it is enacted, ‘That no person born after the 25th March next, being a Papist, shall be capable of inheriting any title of honour or estate, within the kingdom of England, dominion of Wales, or town of Berwick-on-the-Tweed.’”Here some of the ecclesiastics lifted up their eyes, others struck their clenched hands on the table, and the cavaliers, as if simultaneously, made the room ring, by seizing hold of the handles of their swords.“And further, gentlemen, ‘that no Papist shall be capable of purchasing any lands, tenements, or hereditaments, either in his own name, or in the name of any other person in trust for him.’”The reader must be reminded, that in those days there was no “Times” or “Morning Herald” laid upon the breakfast table with the debates of the House—that communication was anything but rapid, there being no regular post—so that what had taken place two months back was very often news.“It appears, then, gentlemen, that our only chance is to win our properties with our own good swords.”“We will!” was the unanimous reply of the laity present.“In Scotland, our adherents increase daily; the interests of so many have been betrayed by the usurper, that thousands of swords will start from their scabbards so soon as we can support the cause with the promised assistance of the court of Versailles: and we have here intelligence that the parliament are in a state of actual hostility to the usurper, and that the national ferment is so great as to be almost on the verge of rebellion. I have also gained from a private communication from our friend Ramsay, who is now at Amsterdam, and in a position to be most useful to us, that the usurper has intimated to his own countrymen, although it is not yet known in England, that he will return to the Hague in July. Such, gentlemen, is the intelligence I have to impart as respects our own prospects in our own country—to which I have to add, that the secret partition treaty, which is inimical to the interests of the French king, has been signed both in London and the Hague, as well as by the French envoy there. A more favourable occurrence for us, perhaps, never occurred, as it will only increase the already well-known ill-will of his Catholic Majesty against the usurper of his own father-in-law’s crown. I have now, gentlemen, laid before you our present position and future prospects; and, as we are met to consult upon the propriety of further measures, I shall be most happy to hear the suggestions of others.”Sir Robert Barclay then sat down.Lovell, the Jesuit, first rose. “I have,” said he, “no opinion to offer relative to warlike arrangements, those not being suitable to my profession. I leave them to men like Sir Robert, whose swords are always ready, and whose talents are so well able to direct their swords; still, it is well known, that the sources of war must be obtained, if war is to be carried on; and I have great pleasure in announcing to those assembled, that from our friends in England I have received advice of the two several sums of ninety-three thousand pounds, and twenty-nine thousand pounds, sterling money, having been actually collected, and now held in trust for the support of the good cause; and, further, that the collections are still going on with rapidity and success. From his most Catholic Majesty we have received an order upon the minister for the sum of four thousand louis, which has been duly honoured, and from our blessed father, the Pope, an order for five hundred thousand paolis, amounting to about thirteen thousand pounds in sterling money, together with entire absolution for all sins already committed, and about to be committed, and a secure promise of paradise to those who fall in the maintenance of the true faith and the legitimate king. I have, further, great expectations from Ireland, and many promises from other quarters, in support of the cause which, with the blessing of God, I trust will yet triumph.”As soon as Lovell sat down, Collier, the ecclesiastic, rose.“That we shall find plenty of willing swords, and a sufficient supply of money for our purposes, there can be no doubt; but I wish to propose one question to the company here assembled. It is an undoubted article of the true faith that we are bound to uphold it by any and by every means. All human attempts are justifiable in the service of God. Many have already been made to get rid of the usurper, but they have not been crowned with success, as we too well know; and the blood of our friends, many of whom were not accessories to the act, has been lavishly spilt by the insatiate heretic.“But they have, before this, received immortal crowns, in suffering as martyrs in the cause of religion and justice, I still hold that our attempts to cut off the usurper should be continued; some hand more fortunate may succeed. But not only is his life to be taken, if possible, but the succession must be cut off root and branch. You all know that, of the many children born to the heretic William, all but one have been taken away from him, in judgment for his manifold crimes. One only remains, the present Duke of Gloucester; and I do consider that this branch of heresy should be removed, even in preference to his parent, whose conduct is such as to assist our cause, and whose death may weaken the animosity of his Catholic Majesty, whose hostility is well known to be personal. I have neither men nor money to offer you, but I have means, I trust, soon to accomplish this point, and I dedicate my useless life to the attempt.”It would occupy too much of our pages, if we were to narrate all that was said and done at this conference, which we have been obliged to report, as intimately connected with our history. Many others addressed the meeting, proposals were made, rejected, and acceded to. Lists of adherents were produced, and of those who might be gained over. Resolutions were entered into and recorded, and questions debated. Before the breaking up, the accounts of the sums expended, and the monies still on hand, were brought forward; and in the former items, the name of Vanslyperken appeared rather prominent. As soon as the accounts were audited, the conference broke up.We have said, that among those who were at the conference might be observed some persons who might be recognised as part of the crew of the lugger. Such was the case; Sir Robert Barclay and many others were men of good family and stout Jacobites. These young men served in the boat with the other men, who were no more than common seamen; but this was considered necessary in those times of treachery. The lugger pulled eighteen oars, was clinker built, and very swift, even with a full cargo. The after-oars were pulled by the adherents of Sir Robert, and the arm-chest was stowed in the stern-sheets: so that these young men being always armed, no attempt to betray them, or to rise against them, on the part of the smugglers, had they been so inclined, could have succeeded. Ramsay’s trust as steersman had been appropriated to Jemmy Salisbury, but no other alteration had taken place. We have entered into this detail to prove the activity of the Jacobite party. About an hour after the conference, Sir Robert and his cavaliers had resumed their seaman’s attire, for they were to go over that night; and two hours before dusk, those who had been at a conference, in which the fate of kingdoms and crowned heads was at stake, were to be seen labouring at the oar, in company with common seamen, and urging the fast boat through the yielding waters, towards her haven at the cove.
We must now change the scene for a short time, and introduce to our readers a company assembled in the best inn which, at that time, was to be found in the town of Cherbourg. The room in which they were assembled was large in dimensions, but with a low ceiling—the windows were diminutive, and gave but a subdued light, on account of the vicinity of the houses opposite. The window-frames were small, and cut diamond-wise; and in the centre of each of the panes was a round of coarsely-painted glass. A narrow table ran nearly the length of the room, and, at each end of it there was a large chimney, in both of which logs of wood were burning cheerfully. What are now termedchaises longues, were drawn to the sides of the table, or leaning against the walls of the room, which were without ornament, and neatly coloured with yellow ochre.
The company assembled might have been about thirty in number, of which half-a-dozen, perhaps, were in the ecclesiastical dress of the time; while the others wore the habiliments then appropriated to cavaliers or gentlemen, with very little difference from those as worn in the times of the Charleses in England, except that the cloak had been discarded, and the more substantial roquelaure substituted in its place. Most of the party were men who had not yet arrived to middle age, if we except the clericals, who were much more advanced in life; and any one, who had ever fallen in with the smuggling lugger and its crew, would have had no difficulty in recognising many of them, in the well-attired and evidently high-born and well-educated young men who were seated or standing in the room. Among them Sir Robert Barclay was eminently conspicuous; he was standing by the fire conversing with two of the ecclesiastics.
“Gentlemen,” said he at last, “our worthy Father Lovell has just arrived from St. Germain; and, as the most rapid communication is now necessary, he is empowered to open here and before us every despatch which we bring over, before it is transmitted to head-quarters, with permission to act as may seem best to the friends of his majesty here assembled.”
The fact was, that King James had lately completely given himself up to religious exercises and mortification, and any communication to him was attended with so much delay, that it had been considered advisable to act without consulting him; and to avoid the delay consequent on the transmission of communications to Paris, the most active parties had determined that they would, for the present, take up their residence at Cherbourg, and merely transmit to their friends at St. Germain an account of their proceedings, gaining, at least, a week by this arrangement. Thee party assembled had many names of some note. Among the ecclesiastics were Lovell, Collier, Snatt, and Cooke; among the cavaliers were those of Musgrave, Friend, and Perkins, whose relatives had suffered in the cause; Smith, Clancey, Herbert, Cunningham, Leslie, and many others.
When Sir Robert Barclay approached the table, the others took their seats in silence.
“Gentlemen,” said Sir Robert, laying down the despatches, which had been opened, “you must be aware that our affairs now wear a very prosperous appearance. Supported as we are by many in the Government of England, and by mere in the House of Commons, with so many adherents here to our cause, we have every rational prospect of success. During the first three months of this year much has been done; and, at the same time, it must be confessed that the usurper and the heretics have taken every step in their power to assail and to crush us. By this despatch, now in my hand, it appears that a Bill has passed the Commons, by which it is enacted, ‘That no person born after the 25th March next, being a Papist, shall be capable of inheriting any title of honour or estate, within the kingdom of England, dominion of Wales, or town of Berwick-on-the-Tweed.’”
Here some of the ecclesiastics lifted up their eyes, others struck their clenched hands on the table, and the cavaliers, as if simultaneously, made the room ring, by seizing hold of the handles of their swords.
“And further, gentlemen, ‘that no Papist shall be capable of purchasing any lands, tenements, or hereditaments, either in his own name, or in the name of any other person in trust for him.’”
The reader must be reminded, that in those days there was no “Times” or “Morning Herald” laid upon the breakfast table with the debates of the House—that communication was anything but rapid, there being no regular post—so that what had taken place two months back was very often news.
“It appears, then, gentlemen, that our only chance is to win our properties with our own good swords.”
“We will!” was the unanimous reply of the laity present.
“In Scotland, our adherents increase daily; the interests of so many have been betrayed by the usurper, that thousands of swords will start from their scabbards so soon as we can support the cause with the promised assistance of the court of Versailles: and we have here intelligence that the parliament are in a state of actual hostility to the usurper, and that the national ferment is so great as to be almost on the verge of rebellion. I have also gained from a private communication from our friend Ramsay, who is now at Amsterdam, and in a position to be most useful to us, that the usurper has intimated to his own countrymen, although it is not yet known in England, that he will return to the Hague in July. Such, gentlemen, is the intelligence I have to impart as respects our own prospects in our own country—to which I have to add, that the secret partition treaty, which is inimical to the interests of the French king, has been signed both in London and the Hague, as well as by the French envoy there. A more favourable occurrence for us, perhaps, never occurred, as it will only increase the already well-known ill-will of his Catholic Majesty against the usurper of his own father-in-law’s crown. I have now, gentlemen, laid before you our present position and future prospects; and, as we are met to consult upon the propriety of further measures, I shall be most happy to hear the suggestions of others.”
Sir Robert Barclay then sat down.
Lovell, the Jesuit, first rose. “I have,” said he, “no opinion to offer relative to warlike arrangements, those not being suitable to my profession. I leave them to men like Sir Robert, whose swords are always ready, and whose talents are so well able to direct their swords; still, it is well known, that the sources of war must be obtained, if war is to be carried on; and I have great pleasure in announcing to those assembled, that from our friends in England I have received advice of the two several sums of ninety-three thousand pounds, and twenty-nine thousand pounds, sterling money, having been actually collected, and now held in trust for the support of the good cause; and, further, that the collections are still going on with rapidity and success. From his most Catholic Majesty we have received an order upon the minister for the sum of four thousand louis, which has been duly honoured, and from our blessed father, the Pope, an order for five hundred thousand paolis, amounting to about thirteen thousand pounds in sterling money, together with entire absolution for all sins already committed, and about to be committed, and a secure promise of paradise to those who fall in the maintenance of the true faith and the legitimate king. I have, further, great expectations from Ireland, and many promises from other quarters, in support of the cause which, with the blessing of God, I trust will yet triumph.”
As soon as Lovell sat down, Collier, the ecclesiastic, rose.
“That we shall find plenty of willing swords, and a sufficient supply of money for our purposes, there can be no doubt; but I wish to propose one question to the company here assembled. It is an undoubted article of the true faith that we are bound to uphold it by any and by every means. All human attempts are justifiable in the service of God. Many have already been made to get rid of the usurper, but they have not been crowned with success, as we too well know; and the blood of our friends, many of whom were not accessories to the act, has been lavishly spilt by the insatiate heretic.
“But they have, before this, received immortal crowns, in suffering as martyrs in the cause of religion and justice, I still hold that our attempts to cut off the usurper should be continued; some hand more fortunate may succeed. But not only is his life to be taken, if possible, but the succession must be cut off root and branch. You all know that, of the many children born to the heretic William, all but one have been taken away from him, in judgment for his manifold crimes. One only remains, the present Duke of Gloucester; and I do consider that this branch of heresy should be removed, even in preference to his parent, whose conduct is such as to assist our cause, and whose death may weaken the animosity of his Catholic Majesty, whose hostility is well known to be personal. I have neither men nor money to offer you, but I have means, I trust, soon to accomplish this point, and I dedicate my useless life to the attempt.”
It would occupy too much of our pages, if we were to narrate all that was said and done at this conference, which we have been obliged to report, as intimately connected with our history. Many others addressed the meeting, proposals were made, rejected, and acceded to. Lists of adherents were produced, and of those who might be gained over. Resolutions were entered into and recorded, and questions debated. Before the breaking up, the accounts of the sums expended, and the monies still on hand, were brought forward; and in the former items, the name of Vanslyperken appeared rather prominent. As soon as the accounts were audited, the conference broke up.
We have said, that among those who were at the conference might be observed some persons who might be recognised as part of the crew of the lugger. Such was the case; Sir Robert Barclay and many others were men of good family and stout Jacobites. These young men served in the boat with the other men, who were no more than common seamen; but this was considered necessary in those times of treachery. The lugger pulled eighteen oars, was clinker built, and very swift, even with a full cargo. The after-oars were pulled by the adherents of Sir Robert, and the arm-chest was stowed in the stern-sheets: so that these young men being always armed, no attempt to betray them, or to rise against them, on the part of the smugglers, had they been so inclined, could have succeeded. Ramsay’s trust as steersman had been appropriated to Jemmy Salisbury, but no other alteration had taken place. We have entered into this detail to prove the activity of the Jacobite party. About an hour after the conference, Sir Robert and his cavaliers had resumed their seaman’s attire, for they were to go over that night; and two hours before dusk, those who had been at a conference, in which the fate of kingdoms and crowned heads was at stake, were to be seen labouring at the oar, in company with common seamen, and urging the fast boat through the yielding waters, towards her haven at the cove.
Chapter Thirty Four.Besides other Matter, containing an Argument.We left Ramsay domiciliated in the house of the syndic Van Krause, on excellent terms with his host, who looked upon him as the mirror of information, and not a little in the good graces of the syndic’s daughter, Wilhelmina. There could not be a more favourable opportunity, perhaps, for a handsome and well-informed young man to prosecute his addresses and to gain the affections of the latter, were he so inclined. Wilhelmina had been brought up in every luxury, but isolated from the world. She was now just at the age at which it was her father’s intention to introduce her; but, romantic in her disposition, she cared little for the formal introduction which it was intended should take place. Neither had she seen, in any of the young Dutch aristocracy, most of whom were well known to her by sight, as pointed out to her by her father when riding with him, that form and personal appearance which her mind’s eye had embodied in her visions of her future lover. Her mind was naturally refined, and she looked for that elegance and grace of deportment which she sought for in vain among her countrymen, but which had suddenly been presented to her in the person of Edward Ramsay.In the few meetings of her father’s friends at their house, the conversation was uninteresting, if not disgusting; for it was about goods and merchandise, money and speculation, occasionally interrupted by politics, which were to her of as little interest. How different was the demeanour, the address, and the conversation of the young Englishman, who had been bred in courts, and, at the same time, had travelled much! There was an interest in all he said, so much information blended with novelty and amusement, so much wit and pleasantry crowning all, that Wilhelmina was fascinated without her being aware of it; and, before the terms of intimacy had warranted her receiving his hand on meeting, she had already unconsciously given her heart. The opportunities arising from her father’s close attention to his commercial affairs, and the mutual attraction which brought them together during the major part of the day, she anxious to be amused, and he attracted by her youth and beauty, were taken advantage of by them both, and the consequence was, that, before ten days, they were inseparable.The syndic either did not perceive the danger to which his child was exposed, provided that there was any objection to the intimacy, or else, equally pleased with Ramsay, he had no objection to matters taking their course.As for Ramsay, that he had at first cultivated the intimacy with Wilhelmina more perhaps from distraction than with any definite purpose, is certain; but he soon found that her attractions were too great to permit him to continue it, if he had not serious intentions. When he had entered his own room, before he had been a week in the house, he had taxed himself severely as to the nature of his feelings, and he was then convinced that he must avoid her company, which was impossible if he remained in the house, or, as a man of honour, make a timely retreat; for Ramsay was too honourable to trifle with the feelings of an innocent girl. Having well weighed this point, he then calculated the probability of his being discovered, and the propriety of his continuing his attentions to the daughter of one whom he was deceiving, a whose political opinions were at such variance with his own—but this was a point on which he could come to no decision. His duty to the cause he supported would not allow him to quit the house—to remain in the house without falling in love was impossible.Why should his political opinions ever be known? and why should not Wilhelmina be of the same opinion as he was?—and why—. Ramsay fell asleep, putting these questions to himself, and the next morning he resolved that things should take their chance.It was about a fortnight since the cutter had left for England. Ramsay was rather impatient for intelligence, but the cutter had not yet returned. Breakfast had been over some time, Mynheer Van Krause had descended to his warehouses, and Ramsay and Wilhelmina were sitting together upon one of the sofas in the saloon, both reclining, and free from that restraint of which nothing but extreme intimacy will divest you.“And so, my Wilhelmina,” said Ramsay, taking up her hand, which lay listless at her side, and playing with her taper fingers, “you really think William of Nassau is a good man?”“And do not you, Ramsay?” replied Wilhelmina, surprised.“However I may rejoice at his being on the throne of England, I doubt whether it can justify his conduct to the unfortunate King James, in leagueing against his own father-in-law and dispossessing him of his kingdom. Suppose, now, Wilhelmina, that any fortunate man should become one day your husband: what a cruel—what a diabolical conduct it would be on his part—at least, so it appears to me—if, in return for your father putting him in possession of perhaps his greatest treasure on earth, he were to seize upon all your father’s property, and leave him a beggar, because other people were to invite him so to do.”“I never heard it placed in that light before, Ramsay; that the alliance between King William and his father-in-law should have made him very scrupulous, I grant, but when the happiness of a nation depended on it, ought not a person in William’s situation to waive all minor considerations?”“The happiness of a nation, Wilhelmina! In what way would you prove that so much was at stake?”“Was not the Protestant religion at stake? Is not King James a bigoted Catholic?”“I grant that, and therefore ought not to reign over a Protestant nation; but if you imagine that the happiness of any nation depends upon his religion, I am afraid you are deceived. Religion has been made the excuse for interfering with the happiness of a nation whenever no better excuse could be brought forward; but depend upon it, the mass of the people will never quarrel about religion if they are left alone, and their interests not interfered with. Had King James not committed himself in other points, he might have worshipped his Creator in any form he thought proper. That a Protestant king was all that was necessary to quiet the nation is fully disproved by the present state of the country, now that the sceptre has been, for some years, swayed by King William, it being, at this moment, in a state very nearly approaching to rebellion.”“But is not that occasioned by the machinations of the Jacobite party, who are promoting dissension in every quarter?” replied Wilhelmina.“I grant that they are not idle,” replied Ramsay; “but observe the state of bitter variance between William and the House of Commons, which represents the people of England. What can religion have to do with that? No, Wilhelmina; although, in this country, there are few who do not rejoice at their king being called to the throne of England, there are many, and those the most wise, in that country, who lament it quite as much.”“But why so?”“Because mankind are governed by interest, and patriotism is little more than a cloak. The benefits to this country, by the alliance with England, are very great, especially in a commercial point of view, and therefore you will find no want of patriots; but to England the case is different: it is not her interest to be involved and mixed up in continental wars and dissensions, which must now inevitably be the case. Depend upon it, that posterity will find that England will have paid very dear for a Protestant king; religion is what every one is willing to admit the propriety and necessity of, until they are taxed to pay for it, and then it is astonishing how very indifferent, if not disgusted, they become to it.”“Why, Ramsay, one would never imagine you to be such a warm partisan of the present Government, as I believe you really are, to hear you talk this morning,” replied Wilhelmina.“My public conduct, as belonging to a party, does not prevent my having my private opinions. To my party, I am, and ever will be, stedfast; but knowing the world, and the secret springs of most people’s actions, as I do, you must not be surprised at my being so candid with you, Wilhelmina. Our conversation, I believe, commenced upon the character of King William; and I will confess to you, that estimating the two characters in moral worth, I would infinitely prefer being the exiled and Catholic James than the unnatural and crowned King William.”“You will say next, that you would just as soon be a Catholic as a Protestant.”“And if I had been brought up in the tenets of the one instead of the other, what difference would it have made, except that I should have adhered to the creed of my forefathers, and have worshipped the Almighty after their fashion, form, and ceremonies? And are not all religions good if they be sincere?—do not they all tend to the same object, and have the same goal in view—that of gaining heaven? Would you not prefer a good, honest, conscientious man, were he a Catholic, to a mean, intriguing, and unworthy person, who professed himself a Protestant?”“Most certainly; but I should prefer to the just Catholic a man who was a just Protestant.”“That is but natural; but recollect, Wilhelmina, you have seen and heard, as yet, but one side of the question; and if I speak freely to you, it is only to give you the advantage of my experience from having mixed with the world. I am true to my party, and, as a man, I must belong to a party, or I become a nonentity. But were I in a condition so unshackled that I may take up or lay down my opinions as I pleased, without loss of character—as a woman may, for instance—so little do I care for party—so well balanced do I know the right and the wrong to be on both sides—that I would, to please one I loved, at once yield up my opinions, to agree with her, if she would not yield up hers to agree with mine.”“Then you think a woman might do so?—that is no compliment to the sex, Ramsay; for it is as much as to assert that we have not only no weight or influence in the world, but also that we have no character or stability.”“Far from it; I only mean to say that women do not generally enter sufficiently into politics to care much for them; they generally imbibe the politics of those they live with, without further examination, and that it is no disgrace to them if they change them. Besides there is one feeling in women so powerful as to conquer all others, and when once that enters the breast, the remainder are absorbed or become obedient to it.”“And that feeling is—”“Love, Wilhelmina; and if a woman happens to have been brought up in one way of thinking by her parents, when she transfers her affections to her husband, should his politics be adverse, she will soon come round to his opinion, if she really loves him.”“I am not quite so sure of that, Ramsay.”“I am quite sure she ought. Politics and party are ever a subject of dispute, and therefore should be avoided by a wife; besides, if a woman selects one as her husband, her guide and counsellor through life, one whom she swears to love, honour, cherish, and obey, she gives but a poor proof of it, if she does not yield up her judgment in all matters more peculiarly his province.”“You really put things in such a new light, Ramsay, that I hardly know how to answer you, even when I am not convinced.”“Because you have not had sufficient time for reflection, Wilhelmina; but weigh well, and dwell upon what I have said, and then you will either acknowledge that I am right, or find arguments to prove that I am wrong. But you promised me some singing. Let me lead you into the music-room.”We have introduced this conversation between Wilhelmina and Ramsay, to show not only what influence he had already gained over the artless yet intelligent girl, but also the way by which he considerately prepared her for the acknowledgment which he resolved to make to her on some future opportunity; for, although Ramsay cared little for deceiving the father, he would not have married the daughter without her being fully aware of who he was. These conversations were constantly renewed, as if accidentally, by Ramsay; and long before he had talked in direct terms of love, he had fully prepared her for it, so that he felt she would not receive a very severe shock when he threw off the mask, even when she discovered that he was a Catholic, and opposed to her father in religion as well as in politics. The fact was, that Ramsay, at first, was as much attracted by her wealth as by her personal charms; but, like many other men, as his love increased, so did he gradually become indifferent to her wealth, and he was determined to win her for his wife in spite of all obstacles, and even if he were obliged to secure her hand, by carrying her off without the paternal consent.Had it been requisite, it is not certain whether Ramsay might not have been persuaded to have abandoned his party, so infatuated had he at last become with the really fascinating Wilhelmina.But Ramsay was interrupted in the middle of one of his most favourite songs, by old Koops, who informed him that the lieutenant of the cutter was waiting for him in his room. Apologising for the necessary absence, Ramsay quitted the music-room, and hastened to meet Vanslyperken.Mr Vanslyperken had received his orders to return to the Hague a few days after the fright he had received from the nasal organ of the corporal. In pursuance of his instructions from Ramsay, he had not failed to open all the Government despatches, and extract their contents. He had also brought over letters from Ramsay’s adherents.“You are sure these extracts are quite correct?” said Ramsay, after he had read them over.“Quite so, sir,” replied Vanslyperken.“And you have been careful to seal the letters again, so as to avoid suspicion?”“Does not my life depend upon it, Mr Ramsay?”“Very true, and also upon your fidelity to us. Here’s your money. Let me know when you sail, and come for orders.”Vanslyperken then took his bag of money, made his bow, and departed, and Ramsay commenced reading over the letters received from his friends. Mynheer Van Krause observed Vanslyperken as he was leaving the house, and immediately hastened to Ramsay’s room to inquire the news. A portion of the contents of the despatches were made known to him, and the syndic was very soon afterwards seen to walk out, leaving his people to mark and tally the bales which were hoisting out from a vessel in the canal. The fact was, that Mynheer Van Krause was so anxious to get rid of his secret, that he could not contain himself any longer, and had set off to communicate to one of the authorities what he had obtained.“But from whence did you receive this intelligence, Mynheer Krause?” demanded the other. “The despatches have not yet been opened; we are waiting for Mynheer Van Wejen. I suppose we shall learn something there. You knew all before we did, when the cutter arrived last time. You must have some important friends at the English court, Mynheer Van Krause.”Here Mynheer Van Krause nodded his head, and looked very knowing, and shortly afterwards took his leave.But this particular friend of Mynheer Krause was also his particular enemy. Krause had lately imparted secrets which were supposed to be known and entrusted to none but those in the entire confidence of the Government. How could he have obtained them unless by the treachery of some one at home; and why should Mynheer Krause, who was not trusted by the Government there, notwithstanding his high civil office, because he were known to be unsafe, be trusted by some one at home, unless it were for treacherous purposes? So argued Mr Krause’s most particular friend, who thought it proper to make known his opinions on the subject, and to submit to the other authorities whether this was not a fair subject for representation in their next despatches to England; and, in consequence of his suggestion, the representation was duly made. Mynheer Krause was not the first person whose tongue had got him into difficulties.So soon as Vanslyperken had delivered his despatches to Ramsay, he proceeded to the widow Vandersloosh, when, as usual, he was received with every apparent mark of cordial welcome, was again installed on the little sofa, and again drank the beer of the widow’s own brewing, and was permitted to take her fat hand. Babette inquired after the corporal, and, when rallied by the lieutenant, appeared to blush, and turned her head away. The widow also assisted in the play, and declared that it should be a match, and that Babette and herself should be married on the same day. As the evening drew nigh, Vanslyperken took his leave, and went on board, giving permission to the corporal to go on shore, and very soon the corporal was installed in his place.This is a sad world of treachery and deceit.
We left Ramsay domiciliated in the house of the syndic Van Krause, on excellent terms with his host, who looked upon him as the mirror of information, and not a little in the good graces of the syndic’s daughter, Wilhelmina. There could not be a more favourable opportunity, perhaps, for a handsome and well-informed young man to prosecute his addresses and to gain the affections of the latter, were he so inclined. Wilhelmina had been brought up in every luxury, but isolated from the world. She was now just at the age at which it was her father’s intention to introduce her; but, romantic in her disposition, she cared little for the formal introduction which it was intended should take place. Neither had she seen, in any of the young Dutch aristocracy, most of whom were well known to her by sight, as pointed out to her by her father when riding with him, that form and personal appearance which her mind’s eye had embodied in her visions of her future lover. Her mind was naturally refined, and she looked for that elegance and grace of deportment which she sought for in vain among her countrymen, but which had suddenly been presented to her in the person of Edward Ramsay.
In the few meetings of her father’s friends at their house, the conversation was uninteresting, if not disgusting; for it was about goods and merchandise, money and speculation, occasionally interrupted by politics, which were to her of as little interest. How different was the demeanour, the address, and the conversation of the young Englishman, who had been bred in courts, and, at the same time, had travelled much! There was an interest in all he said, so much information blended with novelty and amusement, so much wit and pleasantry crowning all, that Wilhelmina was fascinated without her being aware of it; and, before the terms of intimacy had warranted her receiving his hand on meeting, she had already unconsciously given her heart. The opportunities arising from her father’s close attention to his commercial affairs, and the mutual attraction which brought them together during the major part of the day, she anxious to be amused, and he attracted by her youth and beauty, were taken advantage of by them both, and the consequence was, that, before ten days, they were inseparable.
The syndic either did not perceive the danger to which his child was exposed, provided that there was any objection to the intimacy, or else, equally pleased with Ramsay, he had no objection to matters taking their course.
As for Ramsay, that he had at first cultivated the intimacy with Wilhelmina more perhaps from distraction than with any definite purpose, is certain; but he soon found that her attractions were too great to permit him to continue it, if he had not serious intentions. When he had entered his own room, before he had been a week in the house, he had taxed himself severely as to the nature of his feelings, and he was then convinced that he must avoid her company, which was impossible if he remained in the house, or, as a man of honour, make a timely retreat; for Ramsay was too honourable to trifle with the feelings of an innocent girl. Having well weighed this point, he then calculated the probability of his being discovered, and the propriety of his continuing his attentions to the daughter of one whom he was deceiving, a whose political opinions were at such variance with his own—but this was a point on which he could come to no decision. His duty to the cause he supported would not allow him to quit the house—to remain in the house without falling in love was impossible.
Why should his political opinions ever be known? and why should not Wilhelmina be of the same opinion as he was?—and why—. Ramsay fell asleep, putting these questions to himself, and the next morning he resolved that things should take their chance.
It was about a fortnight since the cutter had left for England. Ramsay was rather impatient for intelligence, but the cutter had not yet returned. Breakfast had been over some time, Mynheer Van Krause had descended to his warehouses, and Ramsay and Wilhelmina were sitting together upon one of the sofas in the saloon, both reclining, and free from that restraint of which nothing but extreme intimacy will divest you.
“And so, my Wilhelmina,” said Ramsay, taking up her hand, which lay listless at her side, and playing with her taper fingers, “you really think William of Nassau is a good man?”
“And do not you, Ramsay?” replied Wilhelmina, surprised.
“However I may rejoice at his being on the throne of England, I doubt whether it can justify his conduct to the unfortunate King James, in leagueing against his own father-in-law and dispossessing him of his kingdom. Suppose, now, Wilhelmina, that any fortunate man should become one day your husband: what a cruel—what a diabolical conduct it would be on his part—at least, so it appears to me—if, in return for your father putting him in possession of perhaps his greatest treasure on earth, he were to seize upon all your father’s property, and leave him a beggar, because other people were to invite him so to do.”
“I never heard it placed in that light before, Ramsay; that the alliance between King William and his father-in-law should have made him very scrupulous, I grant, but when the happiness of a nation depended on it, ought not a person in William’s situation to waive all minor considerations?”
“The happiness of a nation, Wilhelmina! In what way would you prove that so much was at stake?”
“Was not the Protestant religion at stake? Is not King James a bigoted Catholic?”
“I grant that, and therefore ought not to reign over a Protestant nation; but if you imagine that the happiness of any nation depends upon his religion, I am afraid you are deceived. Religion has been made the excuse for interfering with the happiness of a nation whenever no better excuse could be brought forward; but depend upon it, the mass of the people will never quarrel about religion if they are left alone, and their interests not interfered with. Had King James not committed himself in other points, he might have worshipped his Creator in any form he thought proper. That a Protestant king was all that was necessary to quiet the nation is fully disproved by the present state of the country, now that the sceptre has been, for some years, swayed by King William, it being, at this moment, in a state very nearly approaching to rebellion.”
“But is not that occasioned by the machinations of the Jacobite party, who are promoting dissension in every quarter?” replied Wilhelmina.
“I grant that they are not idle,” replied Ramsay; “but observe the state of bitter variance between William and the House of Commons, which represents the people of England. What can religion have to do with that? No, Wilhelmina; although, in this country, there are few who do not rejoice at their king being called to the throne of England, there are many, and those the most wise, in that country, who lament it quite as much.”
“But why so?”
“Because mankind are governed by interest, and patriotism is little more than a cloak. The benefits to this country, by the alliance with England, are very great, especially in a commercial point of view, and therefore you will find no want of patriots; but to England the case is different: it is not her interest to be involved and mixed up in continental wars and dissensions, which must now inevitably be the case. Depend upon it, that posterity will find that England will have paid very dear for a Protestant king; religion is what every one is willing to admit the propriety and necessity of, until they are taxed to pay for it, and then it is astonishing how very indifferent, if not disgusted, they become to it.”
“Why, Ramsay, one would never imagine you to be such a warm partisan of the present Government, as I believe you really are, to hear you talk this morning,” replied Wilhelmina.
“My public conduct, as belonging to a party, does not prevent my having my private opinions. To my party, I am, and ever will be, stedfast; but knowing the world, and the secret springs of most people’s actions, as I do, you must not be surprised at my being so candid with you, Wilhelmina. Our conversation, I believe, commenced upon the character of King William; and I will confess to you, that estimating the two characters in moral worth, I would infinitely prefer being the exiled and Catholic James than the unnatural and crowned King William.”
“You will say next, that you would just as soon be a Catholic as a Protestant.”
“And if I had been brought up in the tenets of the one instead of the other, what difference would it have made, except that I should have adhered to the creed of my forefathers, and have worshipped the Almighty after their fashion, form, and ceremonies? And are not all religions good if they be sincere?—do not they all tend to the same object, and have the same goal in view—that of gaining heaven? Would you not prefer a good, honest, conscientious man, were he a Catholic, to a mean, intriguing, and unworthy person, who professed himself a Protestant?”
“Most certainly; but I should prefer to the just Catholic a man who was a just Protestant.”
“That is but natural; but recollect, Wilhelmina, you have seen and heard, as yet, but one side of the question; and if I speak freely to you, it is only to give you the advantage of my experience from having mixed with the world. I am true to my party, and, as a man, I must belong to a party, or I become a nonentity. But were I in a condition so unshackled that I may take up or lay down my opinions as I pleased, without loss of character—as a woman may, for instance—so little do I care for party—so well balanced do I know the right and the wrong to be on both sides—that I would, to please one I loved, at once yield up my opinions, to agree with her, if she would not yield up hers to agree with mine.”
“Then you think a woman might do so?—that is no compliment to the sex, Ramsay; for it is as much as to assert that we have not only no weight or influence in the world, but also that we have no character or stability.”
“Far from it; I only mean to say that women do not generally enter sufficiently into politics to care much for them; they generally imbibe the politics of those they live with, without further examination, and that it is no disgrace to them if they change them. Besides there is one feeling in women so powerful as to conquer all others, and when once that enters the breast, the remainder are absorbed or become obedient to it.”
“And that feeling is—”
“Love, Wilhelmina; and if a woman happens to have been brought up in one way of thinking by her parents, when she transfers her affections to her husband, should his politics be adverse, she will soon come round to his opinion, if she really loves him.”
“I am not quite so sure of that, Ramsay.”
“I am quite sure she ought. Politics and party are ever a subject of dispute, and therefore should be avoided by a wife; besides, if a woman selects one as her husband, her guide and counsellor through life, one whom she swears to love, honour, cherish, and obey, she gives but a poor proof of it, if she does not yield up her judgment in all matters more peculiarly his province.”
“You really put things in such a new light, Ramsay, that I hardly know how to answer you, even when I am not convinced.”
“Because you have not had sufficient time for reflection, Wilhelmina; but weigh well, and dwell upon what I have said, and then you will either acknowledge that I am right, or find arguments to prove that I am wrong. But you promised me some singing. Let me lead you into the music-room.”
We have introduced this conversation between Wilhelmina and Ramsay, to show not only what influence he had already gained over the artless yet intelligent girl, but also the way by which he considerately prepared her for the acknowledgment which he resolved to make to her on some future opportunity; for, although Ramsay cared little for deceiving the father, he would not have married the daughter without her being fully aware of who he was. These conversations were constantly renewed, as if accidentally, by Ramsay; and long before he had talked in direct terms of love, he had fully prepared her for it, so that he felt she would not receive a very severe shock when he threw off the mask, even when she discovered that he was a Catholic, and opposed to her father in religion as well as in politics. The fact was, that Ramsay, at first, was as much attracted by her wealth as by her personal charms; but, like many other men, as his love increased, so did he gradually become indifferent to her wealth, and he was determined to win her for his wife in spite of all obstacles, and even if he were obliged to secure her hand, by carrying her off without the paternal consent.
Had it been requisite, it is not certain whether Ramsay might not have been persuaded to have abandoned his party, so infatuated had he at last become with the really fascinating Wilhelmina.
But Ramsay was interrupted in the middle of one of his most favourite songs, by old Koops, who informed him that the lieutenant of the cutter was waiting for him in his room. Apologising for the necessary absence, Ramsay quitted the music-room, and hastened to meet Vanslyperken.
Mr Vanslyperken had received his orders to return to the Hague a few days after the fright he had received from the nasal organ of the corporal. In pursuance of his instructions from Ramsay, he had not failed to open all the Government despatches, and extract their contents. He had also brought over letters from Ramsay’s adherents.
“You are sure these extracts are quite correct?” said Ramsay, after he had read them over.
“Quite so, sir,” replied Vanslyperken.
“And you have been careful to seal the letters again, so as to avoid suspicion?”
“Does not my life depend upon it, Mr Ramsay?”
“Very true, and also upon your fidelity to us. Here’s your money. Let me know when you sail, and come for orders.”
Vanslyperken then took his bag of money, made his bow, and departed, and Ramsay commenced reading over the letters received from his friends. Mynheer Van Krause observed Vanslyperken as he was leaving the house, and immediately hastened to Ramsay’s room to inquire the news. A portion of the contents of the despatches were made known to him, and the syndic was very soon afterwards seen to walk out, leaving his people to mark and tally the bales which were hoisting out from a vessel in the canal. The fact was, that Mynheer Van Krause was so anxious to get rid of his secret, that he could not contain himself any longer, and had set off to communicate to one of the authorities what he had obtained.
“But from whence did you receive this intelligence, Mynheer Krause?” demanded the other. “The despatches have not yet been opened; we are waiting for Mynheer Van Wejen. I suppose we shall learn something there. You knew all before we did, when the cutter arrived last time. You must have some important friends at the English court, Mynheer Van Krause.”
Here Mynheer Van Krause nodded his head, and looked very knowing, and shortly afterwards took his leave.
But this particular friend of Mynheer Krause was also his particular enemy. Krause had lately imparted secrets which were supposed to be known and entrusted to none but those in the entire confidence of the Government. How could he have obtained them unless by the treachery of some one at home; and why should Mynheer Krause, who was not trusted by the Government there, notwithstanding his high civil office, because he were known to be unsafe, be trusted by some one at home, unless it were for treacherous purposes? So argued Mr Krause’s most particular friend, who thought it proper to make known his opinions on the subject, and to submit to the other authorities whether this was not a fair subject for representation in their next despatches to England; and, in consequence of his suggestion, the representation was duly made. Mynheer Krause was not the first person whose tongue had got him into difficulties.
So soon as Vanslyperken had delivered his despatches to Ramsay, he proceeded to the widow Vandersloosh, when, as usual, he was received with every apparent mark of cordial welcome, was again installed on the little sofa, and again drank the beer of the widow’s own brewing, and was permitted to take her fat hand. Babette inquired after the corporal, and, when rallied by the lieutenant, appeared to blush, and turned her head away. The widow also assisted in the play, and declared that it should be a match, and that Babette and herself should be married on the same day. As the evening drew nigh, Vanslyperken took his leave, and went on board, giving permission to the corporal to go on shore, and very soon the corporal was installed in his place.
This is a sad world of treachery and deceit.