“I vowed by gum, that I’d have that ere dog’s tail off,” observed Smallbones; “and if no one will peach, off it shall go now.  And who cares?  If I can’t a kill him dead, I’ll get rid of him by bits.  There’s one eye out already, and now I’ve a mind for his tail.  Corporal, lend me the cleaver.”

“Bravo, Smallbones, we won’t peach—­not one of us.”

“I’m not sure of that,” replied Moggy; “some won’t, I know; but there are others who may, and then Smallbones will be keel-hauled as sure as fate, and Vanslyperken will have right on his side.  No, no, Smallbones—­you must not do it.  Give me the cleaver, corporal, I’ll do it; and anyone may tell him who pleases, when he comes on board.  I don’t care for him—­and he knows it, corporal.  Hand me the cleaver.”

“That’s right, let Moggy do it,” said the seamen.

The corporal turned the dog round, so as to leave his tail on the block, and fed him with small pieces of meat, to keep him in the same position.

“Are you all ready, Moggy?” said Smallbones.

“Back him a little more on the block, corporal, for I won’t leave him an inch if I can help it,” said Moggy; “and stand farther back, all of you.”

Moggy raised the cleaver, took good aim—­down it came upon the dog’s tail, which was separated within an inch of its insertion, and was left bleeding on the block, while the dog sprang away aft, howling most terribly, and leaving a dotted line of blood to mark his course upon the deck.

“There’s a nice skewer-piece for anyone who fancies it,” observed Moggy, looking at the dog’s tail, and throwing down the cleaver.  “I think Mr Vanslyperken has had enough now for trying to flog my Jemmy—­my own duck of a husband.”

“Well,” observed Coble, “seeing’s believing; but, otherwise, I never should have thought it possible to have divided that ere dog’s tail in that way.”

“He can’t be much of a devil now,” observed Bill Spurey; “for what’s a devil without a tail?  A devil is like a sarpent, whose sting is in his tail.”

“Yes,” replied Short, who had looked on in silence.

“But, I say, Moggy, perhaps it’s as well for him not to find you on board.”

“What do I care?” replied Moggy.  “He is more afraid of me than I of him; but, howsomever, it’s just as well not to be here, as it may get others in trouble.  Mind you say at once it was me—­I defy him.”

Moggy then wished them good-bye, and quitted the cutter, when she was met, as we have already observed, by Vanslyperken.

“Mein Gott! vat must be done now?” observed the corporal to those about him, looking at the mangy tail which still remained on the beef-block.

“Done, corporal,” replied Smallbones, “why, you must come for to go for to complain on it, as he comes on board.  You must take the tail, and tell the tale, and purtend to be as angry and as sorry as himself, and damn her up in heaps.  That’s what must be done.”