"In rye, too."
"Don't talk about it."
"But at last they introduced some new devilry into the bills of lading."
"What was that?"
"How in the world could I tell! I saw it was something new and out of the regular course, and so I would not sign it."
"No, of course not."
"The clerk, who was some sort of a Dane, stood ready with the pen, and tried to persuade me that it meant nothing, that it was for the benefit of the ship, and so on; all of which one could see was a lie.
"So it ended by my swearing that I would only have the bills of lading to which I was accustomed, and that rather than sign, the brig and the rye should remain in Dantzic Roads until they both rotted."
"Of course," said Randulf.
"But whilst we stood and disputed about this, old Bencke himself came out into the office, and the Dane explained the case to him. The old man became dreadfully angry, you may guess, and began to scold and curse in German. I, too, got angry, and so I turned round and said to him, in German, you understand—I spoke just like this to him: 'Bin Bencke bös, bin Worse also bös.' When he saw that I knew German, he did not say another word, but merely, turning round on his heel, bundled out of the room. Some one got another bill of lading, and that person was me."