We had not entered the cabin five minutes when Van Laar descended the companion steps. It was four o’clock. Yan Bol had come on to the quarter-deck to relieve the mate until the hour of six, and Van Laar, descending the ladder, was rolling in a thrusting and sprawling walk to his berth, without taking the least notice of the captain and me, when Greaves stopped him. “Van Laar, sit down. I have something to say to you.” The Dutch mate rounded suddenly. The insipid and meaningless layers of fat which formed his face were quickened by an expression of surprise. He had pulled his cloth cap off on entering, and now worried it between his hands as he stared at Greaves. His mind worked slowly. Presently he gathered from the looks of Greaves that he was to expect something unpleasant, on which he said: “I do not wish to sit down. Vy der doyvil should I sit down? Vot hov you to say, Captain Greaves?” “You are already aware that I am dissatisfied with you,” said Greaves. “‘Ow vhas dot?” “I desire no words. Enough if I tell you _simply_ that you do not suit me.” “Vy der doyvil did you engage me, den?” “I was misled by Mynheer Tulp, who was misled by Mynheer somebody else,” answered Greaves, admirably controlling his voice, but nevertheless sternly surveying the man whom he addressed. “I was told that you knew your duty as a seaman and as a mate, but you are so ignorant of your duty that I will no longer trust you on my quarter-deck.” “Vy der doyvil did you ask me to schip? If I do not know my duty, vhas dere a half-drown man ash we drag on boardt dot can teach her to me?” “I do not choose to go into that,” exclaimed Captain Greaves calmly. “I presume you are not so ignorant of the sea but that you know what my powers as a commander are?” “Hey! you speaks too vast for me.” The captain slowly and deliberately repeated his remark. “Oh, yes,” exclaimed Van Laar, with a slow sideways motion of the head. “I need not to be instrocted as to dere powers of a commander, nor do I need to be instrocted as to dere rights of dose who sail oonder her. I vhas your mate; vhat hov you to say against dot?” “Which will you do,” said Greaves, with a note of impatience in his voice, “will you take the place of second mate, in the room of Yan Bol, who will be glad to be relieved of that trust, or will you go home by the first ship that’ll receive you?” Van Laar looked from Greaves to me, and from me to Greaves, and putting his cap upon the table, and thrusting his immensely fat hands into his immensely deep trousers’ pockets, he exclaimed, with a succession of nods: “Dis vhas a consbiracy.” “Conspiracy or no conspiracy,” said Greaves, scarcely concealing a smile, “you will give me your answer at once, if you please. My mind is made up.” “Dis vhas your doing,” said Van Laar, looking at me; and he pulled his right hand out of his pocket and held it clenched.