"The skipper's out o' sorts again this morning," said Obadiah, after a
time. "I heard him muttering about the woman at the Lust Haus."
"Then, by Got, we will have de breeze," replied Jansen, who was a Dutch
seaman of huge proportions, rendered still more preposterous by the
multiplicity of his nether clothing.
"Yes, as sure as Mother Carey's chickens raise the gale, so does the
name of the Frau Vandersloosh. I'll be down and get my breakfast, there
may be keel-hauling before noon."
"Mein Got--dat is de tyfel."
"Keep her nor-east, Jansen, and keep a sharp look out for the boats."
"Got for dam--how must I steer the chip and look for de boats at de same
time?--not possible."
"That's no consarn o' mine. Those are the orders, and I passes them--you
must get over the unpossibility how you can." So saying, Obadiah Coble
walked below.
We must do the same, and introduce the reader to the cabin of Lieutenant
Vanslyperken, which was not very splendid in its furniture. One small
table, one chair, a mattress in a standing bed-place, with curtains made
of bunting, an open cupboard, containing three plates, one tea-cup and
saucer, two drinking glasses, and two knives.
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