Dogs -- Fiction; Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Seafaring life -- Fiction
"Here's bad luck to him in his own good stuff," said Smallbones, tossing
off a third glass, and, filling it again, he handed it to Coble.
"Here's reformation to him," said Coble, draining the glass again.
"Yes," replied Short, taking the replenished vessel.
"Here's d----n to him and his dog for ever and ever, Amen," cried
Smallbones, tippling off his second allowance.
"Who's there?" said Vanslyperken in a faint voice, opening his eyes
with a vacant look.
Smallbones replaced the bottle in the cupboard, and replied, "It's only
Smallbones, sir, and the mates, come to help you."
"Smallbones!" said Vanslyperken, still wandering. "Smallbones is
drowned--and the whole pot of black paint."
"Conscience," said Short.
"Carving-knife," rejoined Coble.
"Carving-knife!" said Vanslyperken, raising himself up; "I never said a
word about a carving-knife, did I? Who is it that I see? Short--and
Coble--help me up. I've had a sad fall. Where's Smallbones? Is he
alive--really alive?"
"I believe as how I bees," replied Smallbones.
Mr Vanslyperken had now recovered his perfect senses. He had been raised
on a chair, and was anxious to be rid of intruders, so he told Short and
Coble that he would now do very well, and they might go; upon which,
without saying a word, they both quitted the cabin.
Mr Vanslyperken collected himself--he wished to know how Smallbones had
been saved, but still dared not broach the subject, as it would be
admitting his own guilt.
"What has happened, Smallbones?" said Vanslyperken. "I still feel very
faint."
"Take a glass of this," replied Smallbones, opening the cupboard, and
bringing out the scheedam. He poured out a glass, which Vanslyperken
drank, and then observed, "How did you know what was in that
cupboard sirrah?"
"Because you called for it when you were in your fits," replied
Smallbones.
"Called for scheedam?"
"Yes, sir, and said you had lost the carving-knife."
"Did I?" replied Vanslyperken, afraid that he had committed himself. "I
have been ill, very ill," continued he, putting his hand up to his
forehead. "By-the-bye, Smallbones, did you bring in that pot of paint?"
said Vanslyperken, adroitly.
"No, sir, I didn't, because I tumbled overboard, pot and all," replied
Smallbones.
"Tumbled overboard! why, I did not leave the ship till afterwards, and I
heard nothing about it."
"No, sir, how could you?" replied Smallbones, who was all prepared for
this explanation, "when the tide swept me past the saluting battery in
a moment."
"Past the saluting battery?" exclaimed Vanslyperken, "why, how were you
saved?"
"Because, thanks to somebody, I be too light to sink. I went out to the
Nab buoy, and a mile ayond it."
"The Nab buoy!" exclaimed Vanslyperken.
"Yes, and ayond it, afore the tide turned, and then I were swept back
again, and came into harbour again, just half-an-hour afore you
come aboard."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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