I made him a low grateful bow, secretly accepting his civility,
however, as does a man condemned to death the attentions of a gaoler or
the tenderness of the hangman.
Prins prepared the table for supper, and then set a bowl of steaming
punch before the captain. Shortly afterwards arrived Van Vogelaar and
Arents. Our party was now complete, and we fell to. I said: "Gentlemen,
you will forgive the curiosity of an English mariner who is unused to
the discipline of the Batavian ships. How, Mynheer Vanderdecken, are
the watches among you arranged when in harbour, as in a sense we may
take ourselves now to be?"
Imogene observing my drift came to my help and said in Dutch: "The
practice is as with our countrymen, Herr Fenton."
"Then the commandant stands the watch till midnight, and the mates
together till sunrise," said I, speaking inaccurately that I might draw
them into speech.
"No," exclaimed Arents. "With us the commander keeps no watch. The
mates take the deck as at sea, I till midnight, Van Vogelaar till four,
then I again."
"That is as it should be," said I, smiling into Arents' large, fat,
white face.
"And it is very proper," said Van Vogelaar, in his coarse sarcastic
voice, "that English sailors should apply to the Dutch for correct
ideas on true marine discipline."
"Gentlemen," said I, suavely, "I have learnt much since I have been
with you."
The mate darted one of his ugliest looks at me. And it was made
infernal by the twist of leering triumph in his heavy lips, though he
could not suppose I exactly understood what it meant.
We fell silent. Vanderdecken served out the punch with a small silver
goblet. I drank but a mouthful or two, dreading the fumes. The
others quaffed great draughts, making nothing of the potency of the
liquor, nor of the steaming heat of it. Had they been as I was or
Imogene--human and real--I should have rejoiced in their intemperance;
but 'twas impossible to suppose that the fumes of spirits could affect
the brains of men immortal in misery.
When they had done eating they called for pipes, and Vanderdecken told
Prins to bring him such and such a cloak, naming and describing it. The
fashion of it was about eighty years old; 'twas of very dark velvet,
with a silver chain at the throat and silk under-sleeves. He motioned
to Prins to put it down, giving me to know by the same gesture that
it was at my service. I thanked him with a slight inclination of the
head, grateful that he did not speak, as I knew not what effect the
news of my desire to sleep in the cabin might have upon the malignant
mate's suspicious mind.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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