This was not bad advice on the part of Smallbones—­the ship’s company agreed to it, and the corporal perceived the propriety of it.

In the meantime, the dog had retreated to the cabin, and his howlings had gradually ceased; but he had left a track of blood along the deck, and down the ladder, which Dick Short perceiving, pointed to it, and cried out “Swabs.”

The men brought swabs aft, and had cleaned the deck and the ladder down to the cabin door, when Mr Vanslyperken came on board.

“Has that woman been here?” inquired Mr Vanslyperken, as he came on deck.

“Yes,” replied Dick Short.

“Did not I give positive orders that she should not?” cried Vanslyperken.

“No,” replied Dick Short.

“Then I do now,” continued the lieutenant.

“Too late,” observed Short, shrugging up his shoulders, and walking forward.

“Too late! what does he mean?” said Vanslyperken, turning to Coble.

“I knows nothing about it, sir,” replied Coble.  “She came for some of her husband’s things that were left on board.”

Vanslyperken turned round to look for the corporal for explanation.

There stood Corporal Van Spitter, perfectly erect, with a very melancholy face, one hand raised as usual to his cap, and the other occupied with the tail of Snarleyyow.

“What is it? what is the matter, corporal?”

“Mynheer Vanslyperken,” replied the corporal, retaining his respectful attitude, “here is de tail.”

“Tail! what tail?” exclaimed Vanslyperken, casting his eyes upon the contents of the corporal’s left hand.

“Te tog’s tail, mynheer,” replied the corporal, gravely, “which de dam tog’s wife—­Moggy—­”

Vanslyperken stared; he could scarcely credit his eyesight, but there it was.  For a time he could not speak for agitation; at last, with a tremendous oath, he darted into the cabin.

What were his feelings when he beheld Snarleyyow lying in a corner tailless, with a puddle of blood behind him.

“My poor, poor dog!” exclaimed Vanslyperken, covering up his face.

His sorrow soon changed to rage—­he invoked all the curses he could imagine upon Moggy’s head—­he vowed revenge—­he stamped with rage—­and then he patted Snarleyyow; and as the beast looked wistfully in his face, Vanslyperken shed tears.  “My poor, poor dog! first your eye—­and now your tail—­what will your persecutors require next?  Perdition seize them! may perdition be my portion if I am not revenged.  Smallbones is at the bottom of all this; I can—­I will be revenged on him.”

Vanslyperken rang the bell, and the corporal made his appearance with the dog’s tail still in his hand.

“Lay it down on the table, corporal,” said Vanslyperken, mournfully, “and tell me how this happened.”

The corporal then entered into a long detail of the way in which the dog had been detailed—­how he had been cutting up beef—­and how while his back was turned, and Snarleyyow, as usual, was at the block, picking up the bits, Moggy Salisbury, who had been allowed to come on board by Mr Short, had caught up the cleaver and chopped off the dog’s tail.