While we walked and talked I remarked that he kept the Dutch mate in the corner of his eye, but he never addressed him. Once he found the brig half a point, perhaps more than half a point, off her course. He spoke strongly and sternly to the man at the helm, but never a word did he say to Van Laar, whom to be sure he should have reprimanded for not conning the brig. I thought this silence very significant. Presently the lad Jimmy--I called him a lad; his age was about seventeen--this lad came out of the caboose with the cabin breakfast. His knock-kneed legs seemed to have been created for the carriage of a tray full of crockery and eatables along a sharply heaving deck. Galloon trotted out of the caboose at the youth’s heels, and they descended into the cabin together. Presently Jimmy arrived to announce breakfast, and with him was Galloon. “What is there for breakfast?” inquired Captain Greaves. “There’s sausage and ’am and tea,” answered the lad. “Nothing of the sort,” said Greaves. “There is no sausage aboard this ship, and I ordered neither ‘’am,’ as you call it, nor tea. Say eggs and bacon and coffee.” The lad put himself in the position of a soldier at attention. “Say eggs and bacon and coffee,” he shouted; and the dog howled in company with the youth. “Again, if you please.” “Say eggs and bacon and coffee,” roared the lad; and the dog increased its volume of howl as though to encourage the youth to support this trial. “A third time, if you please.” The dog began before the lad and howled horribly while Jimmy yelled, “Say eggs and bacon and coffee.” The four of us then entered the cabin, where I found an excellent breakfast prepared. Galloon sat upon a chair opposite me, and he was waited upon by Jimmy as the captain and I were. “You are treating me very hospitably, Captain Greaves,” said I. “I am happy to have found a companion,” he answered. “After Van Laar”--he stopped with a look at the skylight--“Dern Mynheer Tulp, though he _is_ my step-father and the one merchant adventurer in this undertaking. How sullen and obstinate is the Dutch intellect! Yet who but Dutchmen could have reclaimed a bog from the sea, dried it, settled it, and flourished on it?” “I hope this weather will soon moderate,” said I. “I am anxious to get to England.” “Of course you are. And so shall I be anxious presently.” “Where do you touch, captain?” “Nowhere. An empty ship has plenty of stowage room, and there are provisions enough aboard to last such a crew as my people number as long a time as would make two or three of Anson’s voyages.” “Ah!” thought I with a short laugh, with the velocity of thought founding a fancy of his errand upon his mention of the name of Anson, and upon my recollection of his saying that he had been all his life dreaming of galleons. “What amuses you?” said he. “Galloon there,” said I, laughing again and looking at the dog. CHAPTER VII. A STRANGE STORY.