“Corporal Van Spitter,” exclaimed Vanslyperken with a look of horror, “are you really in earnest, or are you not in your senses—­you really saw him?”

“As true as I stand here,” replied the corporal, who perceived his advantage.

“Then the Lord be merciful to me a sinner!” exclaimed Vanslyperken, falling on his knees, at the moment forgetting the presence of the corporal, and then recollecting himself, he jumped up—­“It is false, Corporal Van Spitter; false as you are yourself—­confess,” continued the lieutenant, seizing the corporal by the collar, “confess, that it is all a lie.”

“A lie,” exclaimed the corporal, who now lost his courage, “a lie, Mynheer Vanslyperken!  If it was not the tyfel himself it was one of his imps, I take my Bible oath.”

“One of his imps,” exclaimed Vanslyperken; “it’s a lie—­an infamous lie, confess,” continued he, shaking the corporal by the collar—­“confess the truth.”

At this moment Snarleyyow considered that he had a right to be a party in the fray, so he bounded forward at the corporal, who, terrified at the supernatural beast, broke from Vanslyperken’s grasp, and rushed out of the cabin, followed, however, the whole length of the lower deck by the dog, who snapped and bayed at him till he had gained the fore ladder.

Once more did the corporal make his appearance on the forecastle, frightened and out of breath.

“Mein Gott! de man is mad,” exclaimed he, “and de tog is de tyfel himself.”  The corporal then narrated in broken English what had passed.  For some time there was a confused whispering among the men; they considered the dog’s reappearance on this occasion even more wonderful than on the former, for the men declared positively that he never came off in the boat, which, had he done, would have unravelled the whole mystery; and that a dog thrown overboard, and swept away by the tide should be discovered shortly after perfectly dry and comfortable, not only on board of the cutter, which he could not have got on board of, but also in his master’s cabin, which he could not get into without being seen, proved at once that the animal was supernatural.  No one was now hardy enough to deny it, and no one appeared to have the least idea of how to proceed except Smallbones, who, as we have shown, was as full of energy as he was deficient in fat.  On all occasions of this kind the bravest becomes the best man and takes the lead, and Smallbones, who appeared more collected and less alarmed than the others, was now listened to with attention, and the crowd collected round him.

“I don’t care for him or for his dog either,” exclaimed Smallbones, with a drawling intrepid tone; “that dog I’ll settle the hash of some way or the other, if it be the devil’s own cousin.  I’ll not come for to go to leave off now, that’s sartain, as I am Peter Smallbones—­I’se got a plan.”