Before the corporal could reply, Smallbones, who had been summoned to the cabin on account of the corporal's unaccountable exit, sprang up the ladder with one bound, his hair flying in every direction, his eyes goggling, and his mouth wide open: lifting his hands over his head, and pausing as if for breath, the lad exclaimed with a solemn sepulchral voice, "By all the devils in hell he's come again!"
"Who?" exclaimed several voices at once.
"Snarleyyow," replied Smallbones, mournfully.
"Yes--mein Gott!" exclaimed Corporal Van Spitter, attempting to rise on his legs.
"Whew!" whistled Jemmy Ducks--but nobody else uttered a sound; they all looked at one another, some with compressed lips, others with mouths open. At last one shook his head--then another. The corporal rose on his feet and shook himself like an elephant.
"Dat tog is de tyfel's imp, and dat's de end on it," said he, with alarm still painted on his countenance.
"And is he really on board again?" inquired Coble, doubtingly.
"As sartin as I stands on this here forecastle--a-kissing and slobbering the lieutenant for all the world like a Christian," replied Smallbones, despondingly.
"Then he flare fire on me wid his one eye," said the corporal.
"Warn't even wet," continued Smallbones.