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.

  “Was Smallbones at the block?” inquired Vanslyperken.

  “He was, mynheer,” replied the corporal.

  “Who held the dog while his tail was chopped off?” inquired Vanslyperken; “some one must have held him.”

  This was a home question but the corporal replied, “Yes, mynheer, some one must have held the dog.”

  “You did not hear who it was, or if it were Smallbones?”

  “I did not, mynheer,” replied the corporal: “but,” added he with a significant look, “I tink I could say.”

  “Yes, yes, corporal I know who you mean. It was him — I am sure — and as sure as I sit here I’ll be revenged. Bring a swab, corporal, and wipe up all this blood. Do you think the poor animal will recover?”

  “Yes, mynheer; there be togs with tail and togs without tail.”

  “But the loss of blood — what must be done to stop the bleeding?”

  “Dat damn woman Moggy, when I say te tog die — tog bleed to death, she say, tell Mynheer Vanslyperken dat de best ting for cure de cur be de red hot poker.”

  Here Vanslyperken stamped his feet and swore horribly.

  “She say, mynheer, it stop all de bleeding.”

  “I wish she had a hot poker down her body,” exclaimed Vanslyperken, bitterly.

  “Go for the swab, corporal, and send Smallbones here.”

  Smallbones made his appearance.

  “Did you come for — to want me, sir?”

  “Yes, sir. I understand from the corporal that you held the dog while that woman cut off his tail.”

  “If so be as how as the corporal says that ‘ere,” cried Smallbones, striking the palm of his left hand with his right fist, “why I’m jiggered if he don’t tell a lie as big as himself — that’s all. That ‘ere man is my mortal henemy; and if that ‘ere dog gets into trouble I’m a sartain to be in trouble too. What should I cut the dog’s tail off for, I should like for to know? I ar’n’t so hungry as all that, any how.”

  The idea of eating his dog’s tail increased the choler of Mr Vanslyperken. With looks of malignant vengeance he ordered Smallbones out of the cabin.

  “Shall I shy this here overboard, sir?” said Smallbones, taking up the dog’s tail, which lay on the table.

  “Drop it, sir,” roared Vanslyperken.

  Smallbones walked away, grinning with delight, but his face was turned from Mr Vanslyperken.

  The corporal returned, swabbed up the blood, and reported that the bleeding had stopped. Mr Vanslyperken had no further orders for him — he wished to be left alone. He leaned his head upon his hand, and remained for some time in a melancholy reverie, with his eyes fixed upon the tail, which lay before him — that tail, now a “bleeding piece of earth,” which never was to welcome him with a wag again. What passed in Vanslyperken’s mind during this time it would be too difficult and too long to repeat, for the mind flies over time and space with the rapidity of the lightning’s flash. At last he rose, took up the dog’s tail, put it into his pocket, went on deck, ordered his boat, and pulled on shore.

  Chapter Thirty Seven.

  In which Mr Vanslyperken drives a very Hard Bargain.

  We will be just and candid in our opinion relative to the historical facts which we are now narrating. Party spirit, and various other feelings, independent of misrepresentation, do, at the time, induce people to form their judgment, to say the best, harshly, and but too often incorrectly. It is for posterity to calmly weigh the evidence handed down, and to examine into the merits of a case divested of party bias. Actuated by these feelings, we do not hesitate to assert, that, in the point at question, Mr Vanslyperken had great cause for being displeased; and that the conduct of Moggy Salisbury, in cutting off the tail of Snarleyyow, was, in our opinion, not justifiable.

  There is a respect for property, inculcated and protected by the law, which should never be departed from; and, whatever may have been the aggressions on the part of Mr Vanslyperken, or of the dog, still a tail is a tail, and whether mangy or not, is bonâ fide a part of the living body; and this aggression must inevitably come under the head of the cutting and maiming act, which act, however, it must, with the same candour which will ever guide our pen, be acknowledged, was not passed until a much later period than that to the history of which our narrative refers.

  Having thus, with all deference, offered our humble opinion, we shall revert to facts. Mr Vanslyperken went on shore, with the dog’s tail in his pocket. He walked with rapid strides towards the half-way houses, in one of which was the room tenanted by his aged mother; for, to whom else could he apply for consolation in this case of severe distress? That it was Moggy Salisbury who gave the cruel blow, was a fact completely substantiated by evidence; but that it was Smallbones who held the dog, and who thereby became a participator, and therefore equally culpable, was a surmise to which the insinuations of the corporal had given all the authority of direct evidence. And, as Mr Vanslyperken felt that Moggy was not only out of his power, but even if in his power, that he dare not retaliate upon her, for reasons which we have already explained to our readers; it was, therefore, clear to him, that Smallbones was the party upon whom his indignation could be the most safely vented; and, moreover, that in so doing, he was only paying off a long accumulating debt of hatred and ill-will. But, at the same time, Mr Vanslyperken had made up his mind that a lad who could be floated out to the Nab buoy and back again without sinking — who could have a bullet through his head without a mark remaining — and who could swallow a whole twopenny-worth of arsenic without feeling more than a twinge in his stomach, was not so very easy to be made away with. That the corporal’s vision was no fiction, was evident — the lad was not to be hurt by mortal man; but although the widow’s arsenic had failed, Mr Vanslyperken, in his superstition, accounted for it on the grounds that the woman was not the active agent on the occasion, having only prepared the herring, it not having been received from her hands by Smallbones. The reader may recollect that, in the last interview between Vanslyperken and his mother, the latter had thrown out hints that if she took Smallbones in hand he would not have such miraculous escapes as he had had, as, in all she undertook, she did her business thoroughly. Bearing this in mind, Mr Vanslyperken went to pour forth his sorrows, and to obtain the assistance of his much-to-be-respected and venerable mother.

  “Well, child, what is it — is it money you bring?” cried the old woman, when Vanslyperken entered the room.

  “No, mother,” replied Vanslyperken, throwing himself on the only chair in the room, except the one with the legs cut off half-way up, upon which his mother was accustomed to rock herself before the grate.

  “No, mother; but I have brought something — and I come to you for advice and assistance.”

  “Brought no money — yet brought something! — well, child, what have you brought?”

  “This!” exclaimed Vanslyperken, throwing the dog’s tail down upon the table.

  “This!” repeated the old beldame, lifting up the tail, and examining it as well as she could, as the vibration of her palsied members were communicated to the article— “and pray, child, what is this?”

  “Are you blind, old woman,” replied Vanslyperken in wrath, “not to perceive that it is my poor dog’s tail?”

  “Blind old woman! and dog’s tail, eh! Blind old woman, eh! Mr Cornelius, you dare to call me a blind old woman, and to bring here the mangy tail of a dog — and to lay it on my table! Is this your duty, sirrah? How dare you take such liberties? There, sir,” cried the hag in a rage, catching hold of the tail, and sending it flying out of the casement, which was open— “there, sir — and now you may follow your tail. D’ye hear? — leave the room instantly, or I’ll cleave your craven skull. Blind old woman, forsooth — undutiful child—”

  Vanslyperken, in spite of his mother’s indignation, could not prevent his eyes from following the tail of his dog, as it sailed through the ambient air surrounding the half-way houses, and was glad to observe it landed among some cabbage-leaves thrown into the road, without attracting notice. Satisfied that he should regain his treasure when he quitted the house, he now turned round to deprecate his mother’s wrath, who had not yet completed the sentence which we have quoted above.

  “I supplicate your pardon, my dear mother,” said Vanslyperken, who felt that in her present humour he was not likely to gain the point with her that he had in contemplation. “I was so vexed — so irritated — that I knew not what I was saying.”

  “Blind old woman, indeed!” repeated the beldame.

  “I again beg you to forgive me, dearest mother,” continued Vanslyperken.

  “All about a dog’s tail cut off. Better off than on — so much the less mange on the snarling cur.”

  This was touching up Vanslyperken on the raw; but he had a great object in view, and he restrained his feelings.

  “I was wrong, mother — very wrong — but I have done all I can, I have begged your pardon. I came here for your advice and assistance.”

  “What advice or assistance can you expect from a blind old woman?” retorted the old hag. “And what advice or assistance does so undutiful a child deserve?”

  It was some time before the ruffled temper of the beldame could be appeased: at last, Vanslyperken succeeded. He then entered into a detail of all that had passed, and concluded by observing, “that as Smallbones was not to be injured by mortal man, he had come to her for assistance.”

  “That is to say — you have come to me to ask me to knock the lad’s brains out — to take away his life — to murder him, in fact. Say, Cornelius, is it not so?”

  “It is exactly so, my dearest mother. I know your courage — your—”

  “Yes, yes, I understand all that: but, now hear me, child. There are deeds which are done, and which I have done, but those deeds are only done upon strong impulses. Murder is one; but people murder for two reasons only — for revenge and for gold. People don’t do such acts as are to torture their minds here, and perhaps be punished hereafter — that is, if there be one, child. I say, people don’t do such deeds as these, merely because a graceless son comes to them, and says, ‘If you please, mother.’ Do you understand that, child? I’ve blood enough on my hands already — good blood, too — they are not defiled with the scum of a parish boy, nor shall they be, without—”

  “Without what, mother?”

  “Have I not told you, Cornelius, that there are but two great excitements — revenge and gold? I have no revenge against the lad. If you have — if you consider that a dog’s tail demands a human victim — well and good — do the deed yourself.”

  “I would,” cried Vanslyperken, “but I have tried in vain. It must be done by woman.”

  “Then hear me, Cornelius; if it must be done by woman, you must find a woman to do it, and you must pay her for the deed. Murder is at a high price. You apply to me — I am content to do the deed; but I must have gold — and plenty too.”

  Vanslyperken paused before he replied. The old woman had charge of all his money — she was on the verge of the grave — for what could she require his gold? — could she be so foolish? — it was insanity. Vanslyperken was right — it was insanity, for avarice is no better.

  “Do you mean, mother,” replied Vanslyperken, “that you want gold from me?”

  “From whom else?” demanded the old woman, sharply.

  “Take it, then, mother — take as many pieces as you please.”

  “I must have all that there is in that chest, Cornelius.”

  “All, mother?”

  “Yes, all; and what is it, after all? What price is too high for blood which calls for retribution? Besides, Cornelius, it must be all yours again when I die; but I shall not die yet — no, no.”

  “Well, mother,” replied Vanslyperken, “if it must be so, it shall all be yours — not that I can see what difference it makes, whether it is called yours or mine.”

  “Then why not give it freely? Why do you hesitate to give to your poor old mother what may be again yours before the leaf again falls? Ask yourself why, Cornelius, and then you have my answer. The gold is here in my charge, but it is not my gold — it is yours. You little think how often I’ve laid in bed and longed that it was all mine. Then I would count it — count it again and again — watch over it, not as I do now, as a mere deposit in my charge, but as a mother would watch and smile upon her first-born child. There is a talisman in that word mine, that not approaching death can wean from life. It is our natures, child — say, then, is all that gold mine?”

  Vanslyperken paused; he also felt the magic of the word; and although it was but a nominal and temporary divestment of the property, even that gave him a severe struggle; but his avarice was overcome by his feelings of revenge, and he answered solemnly, “As I hope for revenge, mother, all that gold is yours, provided that you do the deed.”

  Here the old hag burst into a sort of shrieking laugh. “Send him here child;” and the almost unearthly cachinnation was continued— “send him here, child — I can’t go to seek him — and it is done — only bring him here.”

  So soon as this compact had been completed, Vanslyperken and his mother had a consultation; and it was agreed, that it would be advisable not to attempt the deed until the day before the cutter sailed, as it would remove all suspicion, and be supposed that the boy had deserted. This arrangement having been made, Vanslyperken made rather a hasty retreat. The fact was, that he was anxious to recover the fragment of Snarleyyow which his mother had so contemptuously thrown out of the casement.

  Chapter Thirty Eight.

  In which Mr Vanslyperken is taken for a Witch.

  Mr Vanslyperken hastened into the street, and walked towards the heap of cabbage-leaves, in which he observed the object of his wishes to have fallen; but there was some one there before him, an old sow, very busy groping among the refuse. Although Vanslyperken came on shore without even a stick in his hand, he had no fear of a pig, and walked up boldly to drive her away, fully convinced that, although she might like cabbage, not being exactly carnivorous, he should find the tail in statu quo. But it appeared that the sow not only would not stand being interfered with, but, moreover, was carnivorously inclined; for she was at that very moment routing the tail about with her nose, and received Vanslyperken’s advance with a very irascible grunt, throwing her head up at him with a savage augh? and then again busied herself with the fragment of Snarleyyow. Vanslyperken, who had started back, perceived that the sow was engaged with the very article in question; and finding it was a service of more danger than he had expected, picked up one or two large stones, and threw them at the animal to drive her away. This mode of attack had the effect desired in one respect; the sow made a retreat, but at the same time she would not retreat without the bonne bouche, which she carried away in her mouth.

  Vanslyperken followed: but the sow proved that she could fight as well as run, every minute turning round to bay, and chumping and grumbling in a very formidable manner. At last, after Vanslyperken had chased for a quarter of a mile, he received unexpected assistance from a large dog, who bounded from the side of the road, where he lay in the sun, and seizing the sow by the ear, made her drop the tail to save her own bacon.