"Come, then, help me, Mr Vanslyperken, and then I'll give my message."
As soon as Moggy had taken her glass of scheedam, she began to think what she should say, for she had no message ready prepared; at last a thought struck her.
"I am desired to tell you, that when a passenger, or a person disguised as a sailor, either asks for a passage, or volunteers for the vessel, you are to take him on board immediately, even if you should know them in their disguise not to be what they pretend to be--do you understand?"
"Yes," replied Vanslyperken, who was quite muddled.
"Whether they apply from here, or from the other side of the channel, no consequence, you must take them--if not--"
"If not, what?" replied Vanslyperken.
"You'll swing, that's all, my buck. Good-night to you," replied Moggy, leaving the cabin.
"I'll swing," muttered Vanslyperken, rolling against the bulkhead. "Well, if I do, others shall swing too. Who cares? damn the faggot!"
Here Mr Vanslyperken poured out another glass of scheedam, the contents of which overthrew the small remnant of his reasoning faculties. He then tumbled into his bed with his clothes on, saying, as he turned on his side, "Smallbones is dead and gone, at all events."
Moggy took leave of her friends on deck, and pushed on shore. She permitted Smallbones, whom she found fast asleep, to remain undisturbed until nearly three o'clock in the morning, during which time she watched by the bedside. She then roused him, and they sallied forth, took a boat, and dropped alongside of the cutter. Smallbones' hammock had been prepared for him by the corporal. He was put into it, and Moggy then left the vessel.