"Ho, ho! Mr Vanslyperken:--well, well, Mr Vanslyperken, we will see," continued the widow, indignant at the lieutenant receiving so large a sum, which would otherwise have been, in all probability, made over to Corporal Van Spitter, with whom she now felt that their interests were in common. "Tousand tyfels!" roared the corporal, dashing his foot upon one of the flaps of the little table before them with so much force, that it was broken short off and fell down on the floor. "Hundred tousand tyfels!" continued the corporal, when he witnessed the effects of his violence. Although the widow lamented her table, she forgave the corporal with a smile; she liked such proofs of strength in her intended, and she, moreover, knew that the accident was occasioned by indignation at Vanslyperken. "Yes, yes, Mr Vanslyperken, you'll pay me for that," exclaimed she; "I prophesy that before long you and your nasty cur will both swing together." The corporal now walked across the little parlour and back again, then turned to the widow Vandersloosh, and with a most expressive look slowly muttered:-- "Yes, mein Gott!" After which he sat down again by the side of the widow, and they had a short consultation; before it was over, Corporal Spitter declared himself the deadly enemy of Lieutenant Vanslyperken; swore that he would be his ruin, and ratified the oath upon the widow's lips. Alas! what changes there are in this world! After which solemn compact the corporal rose, took his leave, went on board, and reported himself, as we have stated in the preceding chapter. CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. IN WHICH SNARLEYYOW PROVES TO BE THE DEVIL, AND NO MISTAKE.