Dogs -- Fiction; Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Seafaring life -- Fiction
"I'll tell you," replied Moggy, walking close up to him; "from Lazarus
the Jew. Will you hear it, or shall I leave it with Dick Short?"
"Silence--silence--not a word; come down into the cabin, good Moggy.
Come down--I'll hear it then."
"With all my heart, Mr Vanslyperken, but none of your attacks on my
vartue; recollect I am an honest woman."
"Don't be afraid, my good Moggy--I never hurt a child."
"I don't think you ever did," retorted Moggy, following Vanslyperken,
who could hardly keep his feet.
"Well, there's Abacadabra there, any how," observed Coble to Short, as
they went down.
"Why, she turns him round her finger."
"Yes," quoth Short.
"I can't comprehend this, not no how."
"No," quoth Short.
As soon as they were in the cabin, Moggy observed the bottle of scheedam
on the table. "Come, Mr Vanslyperken, you'll treat me to-night, and
drink my health again, won't you?"
"Yes, Moggy, yes--we're friends now, you know;" for Vanslyperken, like
all others suffering under the stings of conscience, was glad to make
friends with his bitterest enemy.
"Come, then, help me, Mr Vanslyperken, and then I'll give my message."
As soon as Moggy had taken her glass of scheedam, she began to think
what she should say, for she had no message ready prepared; at last a
thought struck her.
"I am desired to tell you, that when a passenger, or a person disguised
as a sailor, either asks for a passage, or volunteers for the vessel,
you are to take him on board immediately, even if you should know them
in their disguise not to be what they pretend to be--do you understand?"
"Yes," replied Vanslyperken, who was quite muddled.
"Whether they apply from here, or from the other side of the Channel, no
consequence, you must take them--if not--"
"If not, what?" replied Vanslyperken.
"You'll swing, that's all, my buck. Good night to you," replied Moggy,
leaving the cabin.
"I'll swing," muttered Vanslyperken, rolling against the bulkhead.
"Well, if I do, others shall swing too. Who cares? damn the faggot!"
Here Mr Vanslyperken poured out another glass of scheedam, the contents
of which overthrew the small remnant of his reasoning faculties. He
then tumbled into his bed with his clothes on, saying, as he turned on
his side, "Smallbones is dead and gone, at all events."
Moggy took leave of her friends on deck, and pushed on shore. She
permitted Smallbones, whom she found fast asleep, to remain undisturbed
until nearly three o'clock in the morning, during which time she watched
by the bed-side. She then roused him, and they sallied forth, took a
boat, and dropped alongside of the cutter. Smallbones' hammock had been
prepared for him by the corporal. He was put into it, and Moggy then
left the vessel.
Mr Vanslyperken was in a state of torpor during this proceeding, and
was, with great difficulty, awoke by the corporal, according to orders
given, when it was daylight, and the cutter was to weigh anchor.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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