"Hark, Mr. Van Stadens, wait till I've done," exclaimed Thunder, with his face full of blood. "All that day the man remained moody, with a lunatic's sullenness. He refused to eat or drink. I was in and out a dozen times but couldn't get him to speak. Well, sir, at nine o'clock in the night the steward came and told me he was asleep. He was watched all night, but never stirred; all next night, and the day after that, and the night after that, sir, but he never stirred. For sixty hours he slept, Mr. Van Stadens, or may I not leave this room alive! and I thought he meant dying in that fashion. Then he awoke, sat up and talked rationally. His mind had come back to him and he was as sensible as you or me."
"Vell?"
"Well, he fed and rested a bit, and then feeling stronger, he told me his story." And here Captain Thunder repeated what is already known to the reader.
Mr. Van Stadens listened with his fat face full of incredulity.
"'Tis fonderful, inteet," said he, "but it isn't true."
"I believe every word of it," said Thunder. "Blast the Flying Dutchman! who doubts him?"
"Your sailor man is mad," said Van Stadens.
"Oh, indeed," sneered Thunder. "Then account to me for the boat I saw him in, for his female companion lying dead of a gunshot wound; for this," said he, holding up the diamond ring, "and for other matters I'll show you when we get aboard."
"Ve vill go on boort at oonst," cried Van Stadens.