"All gone off with the natives," replied the fiddler.
"I thought as much," roared Vanderdecken, "and now I'll give you something for your good news."
Vanderdecken seized the end of the fore-brace and commenced a most furious attack upon the shoulders of Dirk Spattrel. The blows were given with great apparent force, but there was no sound, it was like buffeting a bag of wind; notwithstanding Dirk worked round and round, twisting and wincing, and crying, "Ah, yaw, ah!"
"Take that, scoundrel!" cried Vanderdecken, as much out of breath as a ghost could be.
"They're coming off now, captain," said Dirk Spattrel, rubbing his shoulders.
Jansen and the rest of the crew now made their appearance, looking very sheepish.
"Where have you been, scoundrels?"
"Mynheer Vanderdecken," replied Jansen, "the island is peopled with ghosts and goblins, and demons and devils; one of them seized upon each of us and carried us off the Lord knows where."
"Fools!—do you believe in such nonsense as ghosts and spectres?" replied Vanderdecken, "or do you think me such an ass as to credit you? Who ever saw a ghost or spectre! Stuff, Jansen, stuff—you ought to be ashamed of yourself."
"It's all true, captain; they came down and ran away with us. Is it not so, men?"