I replaced the chart, drank a tumbler of grog, and stepping on deck, marched to the wheel and looked at the card. Call grasped the spokes. “Let her go off. The course is----” and I gave the fellow the course. The swollen, dusky shapes of Bol, Galen, and others of the crew trudged in the gangway. It was a fine, clear night. I sang out: “Trim sail and then heap it on her. Set stun’s’ls and let her go.” My voice was instantly echoed by Bol. “Hurrah, my ladts! Man der braces. Clear avay der foretopmast stun’s’l. Hurrah for beesiness! All vhas right now. Dis vhas a happy ship.” I stood beside the wheel while the men trimmed and made sail, Bol roaring at them, deeply thunderous, with excitement and satisfaction. Presently the great Dutchman came up to me. “Mr. Fielding, vhas he a disgrace to shake handts now?” I gave him my hand, and the brute squeezed it. He then looked at the card, observed the course, and said, “Dot vhas for der Cape!” “Yaw.” “He vill not bring der land aboardt? All hands would gif der Point of Agulhas a vide berth.” “I’ll run you as far south as you choose.” “Vell, I dessay a hondred mile vhas sout enough.” “Is the fresh water going to carry us to Amsterdam Island?” “Dot vhas to findt out. If not, dere vhas plenty of rain in der sky before dere casks gif out. But she vhas not longer to Amsterdam Island dan to England, and dere vhas water to last to England, so dot vhas all right, I hope. Dere is fresh water on der island.” “And your provisions?” “She vhas to be seen to likewise.” “You’ll find nothing to eat at Amsterdam Island; nothing to carry you on to Port Jackson.” “Vhen der money vhas hid dere vhas St. Paul hard by, mit goats, und cabbage, und fish for drying.” I cursed him behind my teeth. The villain looked far ahead; all hands knew what they were about, while I saw nothing, an inch beyond my nose. “Mr. Fielding, ve vhas all gladt dot you remain in sharge. Mitout you ve vhas at sea indeedt. You vhas now von of us. Dere vhas no robbery. Tink a leedle, Mr. Fielding. How vhas Tulp to know dot ve hov der dollars? Tink a leedle, sir. Ve gifs him our vages--our verk costs her not von stiver. Der captain vhas deadt--der money by der law of expeditions like ash dis vhas, I mean expedition dot vhas all der same as privateering, belongs to der surfifers. Suppose I die? Vell, my share goes by rights to you und der oders. Dot vhas onderstood. Now, Mr. Fielding, vhat vhas your share to be?” On his asking me this question I walked off.