“I told you so, I told you so; there’s the sloop,” shouted the Baron. “I am right, am I not, friend mariner?”
“Ja, ja, that’s she,” answered the sober sailor, pulling towards the sloop, which was, as he had asserted would be the case, floating leisurely along, like a snail on a garden path. He soon pulled up alongside, when the Count and the Baron scrambled on board. The tipsy skipper and his tipsy crew were still both fast asleep in their respective bunks.
“Now I consider that it would be right and proper to let them float on after we have recovered our portmanteaus and umbrellas,” said the Baron.
“It would be more kind and charitable to anchor the sloop, or to take her alongside the nearest vessel we can reach,” said the Count. “What do you say, worthy mariner?”
“We cannot anchor her, because my messmate slipped her cable and left the anchor in the canal,” answered the sober sailor. “But we will tow her alongside another vessel and make her fast, where she will remain safe enough till I have conveyed you, Mynheers, and your luggage to the shore. We sailors make it a point of honour to look after our shipmates when they get overtaken by too abundant potations of schiedam or any other liquor.”
“But you do not mean to say that you ever get overtaken?” asked the Count.
“Not unless it is my turn to enjoy that pleasure,” answered the sober sailor. “It was my turn to-night to keep sober, as it would never do for the whole crew to get drunk together.” Having said this, the sober sailor stepped into the boat, and towed the sloop up to a vessel which lay conveniently near. Having secured her, and informed her skipper and crew of the condition of his skipper and crew, he pulled away up to the landing-place, carrying the Count and Baron, with their portmanteaus and umbrellas. They were not long, after landing, in finding a hotel, on entering
which the first words the Baron uttered were, “Supper for two.”
“I thought that you had supped,” remarked the Count.