This was a small business and promptly dispatched. Two men were at the wheel, and eight men, leaving Jim Vinten out, came to the mainmast to hear what the captain had to say. He said no more than this: “Yan Bol, and you men: Mr. Van Laar is under arrest in his cabin, and Mr. William Fielding here is and will be the mate of the _Black Watch_. He is a much better man than Van Laar. You would split your throats with huzzas did you know how very much smarter Mr. Fielding is than Van Laar. We want nothing but sharp and able men aboard the _Black Watch_. You’ll know why anon--you’ll know why anon. I have my eye upon ye, lads, and so far, I’m very well satisfied. You seem a willing crew; keep so. A man, after he has heard our errand, would sooner have cut his throat than fail me. Heed me well, hearts, for this is to be a big cruise. Here’s your mate, Mr. William Fielding,” and he put his hand upon my shoulder. The fellows stared very hard. They were strangers to me as yet, and I knew not which were Dutch and which were English; but some exchanged looks with a half-suppressed grin, and those I guessed were English. Yan Bol stood forward--Yan we called him, though he spelt his name with a J. He was, as you have heard, boatswain, carpenter, and sailmaker, a stern, bearded, beetle-browed man, heavily clothed with hair--leonine--indeed, in the matter of hair. “I beg pardon, captain,” said he, “does Herr Van Laar goom forward?” “No,” answered the captain, “he goes over the side presently, when there’s a ship to pick him up.” “I vhas to be second mate still?” “Yaw, it is so, Yan. We want no better man.” But the compliment was not relished. Methought Yan Bol, as he fronted the stormy western light, looked sterner and more beetle-browed, hairier, and more bearded than before, when he understood that he was to remain second mate. “There are three Dutchmen aboard not counting you, Bol,” said the captain, “and seven Englishmen. I want such a distribution of watches, as will put the three Dutchmen under you, Yan. Wirtz, you and Hals will come out of the starboard into the larboard watch, and Meehan and Travers will take their place. That’s all I’ve got to say, excepting this--pipe for grog, Bol, to drink the health of the new mate.” This dismissed them chuckling. Bol sounded his whistle, and Jimmy presently came out of the cabin and went forward with a can of black rum swinging in his hand. “I am lumping the Dutchmen together under one head,” said Greaves, as we paced the deck, “to give their characters a chance of developing, before they learn the motive of this voyage. Not that I have more or less faith in Dutchmen than in Englishmen; but sailors of a nationality do not distrust one another, therefore whatever is bad will quickly ripen: but mix them with others and you arrest rapid development by misgiving; and a difficulty, that might come to a head quickly, is delayed until a remedy becomes difficult or impracticable.”