“I was misled by Mynheer Tulp, who was misled by Mynheer somebody else,” answered Greaves, admirably controlling his voice, but nevertheless sternly surveying the man whom he addressed. “I was told that you knew your duty as a seaman and as a mate, but you are so ignorant of your duty that I will no longer trust you on my quarter-deck.”
“Vy der doyvil did you ask me to schip? If I do not know my duty, vhas dere a half-drown man ash we drag on boardt dot can teach her to me?”
“I do not choose to go into that,” exclaimed Captain Greaves calmly. “I presume you are not so ignorant of the sea but that you know what my powers as a commander are?”
“Hey! you speaks too vast for me.”
The captain slowly and deliberately repeated his remark.
“Oh, yes,” exclaimed Van Laar, with a slow sideways motion of the head. “I need not to be instrocted as to dere powers of a commander, nor do I need to be instrocted as to dere rights of dose who sail oonder her. I vhas your mate; vhat hov you to say against dot?”
“Which will you do,” said Greaves, with a note of impatience in his voice, “will you take the place of second mate, in the room of Yan Bol, who will be glad to be relieved of that trust, or will you go home by the first ship that’ll receive you?”
Van Laar looked from Greaves to me, and from me to Greaves, and putting his cap upon the table, and thrusting his immensely fat hands into his immensely deep trousers’ pockets, he exclaimed, with a succession of nods:
“Dis vhas a consbiracy.”
“Conspiracy or no conspiracy,” said Greaves, scarcely concealing a smile, “you will give me your answer at once, if you please. My mind is made up.”