“Couldn’t we stop and get some of the birds?” asked the Baron, who from habit was constantly thinking of the best way to supply his larder. “They would be a welcome addition to our sea-stock of provisions.”
“The lighthouse-men would consider that we were poaching on their preserves,” said the skipper; “besides which, if we were to go nearer than we now are, we should run the galiot ashore. See, we are already leaving the lighthouse astern, and are now clear of the river.”
“So I perceive,” groaned the Count, as the vessel had heeled over and began to pitch and tumble.
“Never fear, Count,” said the skipper, in an encouraging tone; “we shall soon be going free, and the galiot will then only roll pleasantly from side to side, and assist to rock you to sleep when you turn in your bunk.”
“I’d rather not be rocked to sleep in that fashion,” said the Count. “Ever since I was a baby I have been able to sleep perfectly well in my bed or arm-chair after dinner without being rocked. Couldn’t you manage to keep the galiot quiet, just to please me?”
“I could not keep her quiet to please the King of the Netherlands, or the Burgomaster of Amsterdam or Rotterdam; no, not if you paid ten times the sum you have for your passage-money,” answered the skipper, in a gruff tone.
“Then I suppose that I must submit to my hard fate,” groaned the Count. “Though I do wish—I cannot help wishing—that I had not come to sea; and I here register the firm resolution I now form, that of my own free will I will never—when once I set foot on shore—venture again on the stormy ocean.”
“Then I must observe, my dear Count, that we shall never manage to get round the world, as you led me to suppose, when we started on our travels, it was your desire to do,” observed the Baron.
“Yes, but I did not take into consideration that we should have to encounter so rough, ill-mannered, and boisterous a sea, and such howling winds,” answered the Count. “I had bargained to find the water as smooth as the Scheldt, and I still should have no hesitation about going round the world, providing you can guarantee that the ocean will keep perfectly quiet till we come back again.”
“As to that, I will guarantee that as far as my influence extends it shall remain as calm as a mill-pond,” said the Baron, in a confident tone. “Will that satisfy you, Count? If so, notwithstanding your unjust complaints, we will continue our travels.”