"She may prove a harmless merchantman--perhaps a sturdy Hollander--that will give you plenty of tobacco for a little of your silver," said Imogene, striking in with her sweet smile, and melodious voice, like a sunbeam upon turbulent waters. "If you are in doubt why not shift your helm, gentlemen?" said I. "Ah, skipper!" cried Van Vogelaar, sardonically, "we have an adviser here. It is fit that a Dutch ship should be served by an English pilot!" I held my peace. At this moment the clock struck, and the parrot, as though some fiend was inside her green bosom prompting her to breed trouble, cried out "Wyn Zyn al Verdomd!" with fierce energy, severely clawing her wires, and exhibiting more agitation than seems possible in a fowl of naturally dull and leaden motions. "I believe she speaks the truth," exclaimed Van Vogelaar, turning his face towards the cage. "The parrot hath been known to possess a witch-like capacity of forecasting and divining." "Oh, but you know, Heer, that she had that sentence by heart when the captain bought her," said Imogene, with a mixed air of distress and petulance in her face. "I know, madam," he replied, "that yonder bird never spoke those words with such energy as she now puts into them before this gentleman arrived." Vanderdecken looked at him and then at me, but did not speak. "What do you suspect from the increased energy of the bird's language?" said I, fixing my eyes upon the mate. He would not meet my gaze, but answered with his eyes upon his plate, "What is your motive in examining this ship, sir?" "The harmless curiosity of a sailor," I replied. He was about to speak, but I lifted my hand, meaning to entreat silence whilst I continued, but he, mistaking the gesture for a threat, shrank very abjectly from his seat, proving himself a timorous, cowardly fellow, and the more to be feared, perhaps, for being so. "Captain Vanderdecken," said I, keeping my hand lifted, that he and his mate might understand I intended no menace, "I know not what base and degrading charges Herr Van Vogelaar would insinuate. I am an honest man and mean well, and, sir, add to that the gratitude of one whose life you have preserved. You were pleased, on one occasion, to speak kindly of my countrymen, and regret that feud should ever exist between two nations whose genius seems to have a common root. I trust that your sympathy with Britain will cause you to turn a deaf ear to the unwarrantable hints against my honour as an English seaman, dropped by your first mate."