Kees grumbled assent, and was instantly on the alert, for he was well drilled. His sharp little brown eyes scarcely strayed for one second away from the face of his mistress.
"The young gentleman here says he knows what God is. Do you know?"
Keesje shook his head quickly, showing all his sharp little white teeth in a grin. One would have said he was laughing, but his small eyes peered as seriously as ever from Marjon's mouth to her hand. There was nothing to laugh at. He must pay attention. That was clear. Goodies were bound to follow—or blows.
But Marjon laughed loudly.
"Here, Kees! Good Kees!"
And then he had the dainties, and soon was up on the mast, smacking aloud as he feasted.
The result of this affront was quite unexpected to Marjon. Johannes, who had been lying prone on the deck, with his chin in his hands, gazed sadly for a while at the horizon, and then hid his face in his folded arms, his body shaking with sobs.
"Stop now, Jo; you're silly! Cry for that!" said Marjon, half frightened, trying to pull his arms away from his face. But Johannes shook his head.
"Hush! Let me think," said he.
Marjon gave him about a quarter of an hour, and then she spoke, gently and kindly, as if to comfort him: